The Complete Works of St. Teresa

St. Teresa of Avila

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The Complete Works of St. Teresa

Table of Contents

1. The Interior Castle or The Mansions

2. The Way of Perfection

3. The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, of The Order of Our Lady of Carmel

4. The Book Of The Foundations

5. The Letters of St. Teresa

6. Conceptions of the Love of God, Exclamations, Maxims and Poems

7. The Pater Noster

8. The Spirit of St. Teresa

The Interior Castle or The Mansions

Table of Contents

1. Introduction

1. Preface

2. Introduction

2. The First Mansions

1. Chapter I.

2. Chapter II.

3. The Second Mansions

1. Only Chapter

4. The Third Mansions

1. Chapter I.

2. Chapter II.

5. The Fourth Mansions

1. Chapter I.

2. Chapter II.

3. Chapter III.

6. The Fifth Mansions

1. Chapter I.

2. Chapter II.

3. Chapter III.

4. Chapter IV.

7. The Sixth Mansions

1. Chapter I.

2. Chapter II.

3. Introductory Note To Chapter III.

4. Chapter III.

5. Chapter IV.

6. Chapter V.

7. Chapter VI.

8. Chapter VII.

9. Chapter VIII.

10. Chapter IX.

11. Chapter X.

12. Chapter XI.

8. The Seventh Mansions

1. Chapter I.

2. Chapter II.

3. Chapter III.

4. Chapter IV.

5. IHS

Introduction

Preface

SAINT TERESA began to write the Interior Castle
on June 2, 1577, Trinity Sunday, and completed it on the eve of St. Andrew,
November 29, of the same year. But there was a long interruption of five
months,[1]  so that the actual time spent in the
composition of this work was reduced to about four weeks—a fortnight for the
first, and another fortnight for the second half of the book. The rapidity with
which it was written is easily explained by the fact that the Saint had
conceived its plan some time previously. On January 17, 1577, she had written
to her brother, Don Lorenzo de Cepeda, at Avila: ‘I have asked the bishop—Don
Alvaro Mendoza—for my book (the Life)
because I shall perhaps complete it by adding those new favours our Lord has
lately granted me. With these one may even compose a new work of considerable
size, provided God grants me the grace of explaining myself; otherwise the loss
will be of small account.’[2]  She never asked for permission to write
anything, but waited until she received a command from her superiors, which, in
this case, came from
Father Jerome Gracian, superior of the Discalced J. Carmelites of the Provinces
of Andalusia and Castille, and from Don Alonso Velasquez, canon of Toledo,
afterwards bishop of Osma.[3]  The Saint was not in good health at the time;
she repeatedly complains of noises in the head and other infirmities, but,
worst of all, she was weighed down by troubles and anxieties resulting from the
action of the superiors of the Order and of the Papal Nuncio against the nuns
and friars of the Reform. Matters became even more serious when, in October,
the nuns of the Incarnation of Avila proceeded to the election of a new
prioress. Notwithstanding the prohibition of the provincial, fifty-five
electors recorded their votes in favour of the Saint and were immediately
declared excommunicated. The whole work of the Reform seemed on the brink of
ruin, the Saint, as well as all her friends, was in disgrace, subject to
obloquy and ill-treatment.

No
trace of these trials is to be found in the Interior
Castle. Saint Teresa possessed the power of concentration of thought in a
marvellous degree. The early mornings and late evenings were devoted to the
composition of the book, while the rest of the day was taken up by the affairs
of the Order. Mother Mary of the Nativity, a member of the community
of Toledo, where the book was begun, declared afterwards,[4]  that she often saw her writing, generally
after Holy Communion, her face resplendent, with such rapidity and so absorbed
in her occupation that she seemed undisturbed by, and in fact quite unconscious
of, any noise that was made. Mother Mariana of the Angels[5]  reports having heard from the same witness,
that entering her cell one day to deliver a message, the holy Mother was just
beginning a new sheet of her book. While taking off her spectacles to listen to
the message she was seized by a trance in which she remained for several hours.
The nun, terrified at this, did not stir, but kept her eyes steadily on the
Saint. When she came to, it was seen that the paper, previously blank, was
covered with writing. Noticing that her visitor had discovered it, Saint Teresa
put the paper quietly in the box. Another
nun, Mary of St. Francis, left the following declaration: ‘I know that our holy
Mother wrote four books, the Life,
the Way of Perfection, the Foundations, and the Mansions, which I have seen her writing.
Once, while she was composing the last-named work, I entered to deliver a
message, and found her so absorbed that she did not notice me; her face seemed
quite illuminated and most beautiful. After having listened to me she said:
“Sit down, my child, and let me write what our Lord has told me ere I
forget it,” and she went on writing with great rapidity and without
stopping.’[6]

Mary
of St. Joseph says she heard from Mary of the Nativity that Father Jerome
Gracian commanded the Saint to write the Mansions;
she, however, begged to be excused, because so many books having been written
by holy and learned men, there remained nothing for a woman to write. At length
she yielded under obedience. This nun (Mary of the Nativity) was frequently in
the Saint’s cell while she was writing and she noticed her resplendent face and
the almost preternatural velocity with which her hand travelled over the paper.[7]

Writing
to Mother Mary of St. Joseph, Prioress of Seville, November 8, 1581, St. Teresa
gives her a message for Father Rodrigo Alvarez, S. J.: ‘Our Father (Jerome
Gracian, then provincial) tells me that he has handed you a book written by me, which
perhaps you do not feel inclined to read yourself. Kindly read to Father
Rodrigo Alvarez, at his next visit, the last Mansion, but under the seal of
confession, as he asks this in his superior wisdom. This is only for you two.
Tell him that the person he knows has arrived at this Mansion and enjoys the
peace there described; that she is entirely at rest, and that some grave
theologians have assured her that she is on a safe road. In case you could not
read these pages to him do not send him the book, for it might lead to
unpleasantness. Until I have his answer on this matter I will not write to him.
Give him my compliments.’

At
the end of the original manuscript, before the epilogue (marked with Ihs.)
there is a notice in Father Alvarez’ hand-writing to this effect: ‘The Mother
Prioress of the convent of Seville has read to me this seventh Mansion, whither
a soul may arrive in the present life. Let all the saints praise the infinite
goodness of God, Who communicates Himself to His creatures so that they truly
seek His glory and the salvation of their neighbour. What I feel and judge of
this matter is, that everything that has been read to me is conformable to
Catholic truth and in accordance with Holy Scripture and the teaching of the
Saints. Whosoever has read the doctrine of the Saints, such as the books of St.
Gertrude, St. Catharine of Siena, or St. Bridget of Sweden, and other saints
and spiritual writers, will
clearly understand that the spirit of Mother Tireza (sic) of Jesus is true, since it leads to the same effects as are to
be found in the saints; and because this is in truth my judgment and opinion, I
have hereunto set my name, this, the 22nd day of February, 1582. P. Rodrigo
Alvarez.’[8]

The
work was copied, probably under the supervision of the Saint, who introduced
many changes; when completed the original was handed to Father Jerome Gracian
and to the Dominican, Fray Diego de Yanguas, for approval. Both, particularly
the former, made numerous corrections, which Fuente, not without reason, calls
impertinent, scratching out whole sentences and adding others. The book thus
revised must have enjoyed a certain celebrity, though not to the same extent as
the Life, to which St. Teresa herself
preferred it. Scarcely a week after its completion she wrote to Father Salazar,
S.J.: ‘If Señor Carillo [Salazar himself] came, the person in question [the
Saint] thinks he would find another jewel which in her opinion is superior to
the former [the Life]. This one
reflects nothing foreign to itself, but is resplendent in its own beauty. It is
enriched with more delicate enamels than the former, the workmanship, too, is
more perfect. For, as the person in question says, the jeweller was less experienced
when he fashioned the previous one. Moreover, the gold of the new one
is of better quality than that of the former, though the precious stones are
not so well set. It has been done, as might be expected, according to the
designs of the Jeweller Himself.’[9]  Later on she wrote to Father Jerome Gracian:
The book I have written since seems to me superior [to the Life]; at least I had more experience when I wrote it.’[10]

One
day, speaking with Mother Mary of Jesus on spiritual matters, she said that our
Lord had communicated so much to her since she had reached what she described
in the seventh Mansion,—the spiritual Marriage,—that she did not consider it
possible to advance further in this life, in the way of prayer, nor even to
wish to do so.[11]

The
book was eagerly read by those who were able to obtain copies. At the
archiepiscopal Seminary at Salamanca it was read publicly after dinner; the
students, contrary to custom, sacrificing the recreation rather than miss so
edifying an instruction. The result was that several entered the religious
life, one becoming a Franciscan, two others, who had already taken their
degrees, joining the Discalced Carmelites.[12]  We also know of a lady who became a Poor
Clare through reading the Interior Castle.[13]  The process of Beatification contains the
following evidence of Don Francisco de Mora, architect to Philip III: ‘The same
prioress (of aconvent
of Dominican nuns) being concerned about my salvation gave me a book in
manuscript, called The Mansions, by
Mother Teresa, hoping I should derive some benefit from it. I fear this was not
the case, but it made me acquainted with Teresa of Jesus, the foundress of the
Discalced Carmelite nuns, of whom I had not yet heard, but for whom I now felt
devotion.’[14]

In
August 1586 it was decided to print Saint Teresa’s works, the Augustinian Fray
Luis de Leon being selected as editor, as he was unconcerned in the quarrels
raging round the Reform. Accordingly, the manuscript of the Interior Castle was handed to him. On
the first leaf he wrote the following note:

’Many
passages of this book written by the holy Mother have been scored through,
other words being substituted or notes being added in the margin. Most of these
corrections are badly done, the original text being much better. It will be
noticed that the holy Mother’s sentences are superior and agree with the
context, which is not the case with the corrections. These improvements and
glosses may therefore be dispensed with. Having myself read and considered
everything with great care, it appears to me that the reader, too, should have
before him the words of the author who knew best what to say; for this reason I
have left out the additions, and have restored what has been changed, excepting
only a few
corrections made by the writer herself. I beg of the reader that he would in
charity reverence the words and even the letters traced by so holy a hand, and
strive to understand what has been written. He will then see that there was no
need for corrections; should he fail to understand her, let him believe that
the writer knew what she said, and that her words cannot be tampered with if
they are not to lose their meaning; otherwise what was to the point will seem
out of place. This is how books become corrupted, useless, and are finally
lost.’[15]

When
Luis de Leon undertook the editing of St. Teresa’s writings he received a long
letter from Don Diego de Yepes, afterwards Bishop of Tarazona, a former friend
and confessor of the Saint, in which he records his personal recollections. I
shall only insert here what he says about the Interior Castle:

’This
holy Mother desired to see the beauty of a soul in the state of grace, a thing
greatly to be coveted both for the sake of seeing and of possessing it. While
this desire lasted, she was commanded to write a treatise on prayer, of which
she had much personal experience. On the eve of the Blessed Trinity, while
considering what subject to choose for this treatise, God, Who disposes
everything in due season, fulfilled her wish and furnished a suitable subject.
He showed her a most beautiful globe of
crystal, in the shape of a castle, with seven rooms, the seventh, situated in
the centre, being occupied by the King of glory, resplendent with the most
exquisite brilliancy, which shone through and adorned the remaining rooms. The
nearer these lay to the centre, the more did they partake of that wondrous
light. It did not, however, penetrate beyond the crystal, for everything round
about was a mass of darkness and impurity, full of toads and vipers and other
venomous animals.

She
was still admiring this beauty which, by the grace of God dwells in the soul,
when, to! the light suddenly disappeared, and the crystal, wherein the King of
glory was still residing, became opaque and as dark as coal, emitting an
intolerable odour; the venomous animals, formerly held in check outside,
obtained admittance into the castle. The holy Mother wished that every one
should behold this vision, for she thought that no one having seen the beauty
and splendour of grace, which is forfeited by sin and replaced by such
repulsive misery, would ever dare to offend God.

’She
told me this vision on the same day, for in this as well as in other things she
was so communicative that on the following morning she said to me: “How I
forgot myself yesterday! I cannot think how it could have happened. Those high
aspirations of mine, and the affection I have for you must have caused me to go
beyond all reasonable limits.
God grant I may have derived some profit therefrom.” I promised her to say
nothing about it during her lifetime, but since her death I should like to make
it known to all men. From this vision she learnt four important matters.

’First,
she came to understand this axiom, which in this form she had never heard of in
her life,[16]  that God is present in all things by His
essence, presence, and power. As she was deeply humble and submissive and
obedient to the doctrine of the Church and the teaching of the learned
ministers of God, she never rested until her revelations had been approved of
by her superiors and by theologians, and were shown to be conformable to Holy
Scripture. She went so far as to say that if all the angels of heaven said one
thing, and her superiors another, though she could not doubt that the former
were true angels, yet she would hold what was told her by her superiors,
because faith comes through these and there remains no room for deceit, whereas
revelations coming from angels might be illusionary.

’With
such regard for obedience, she asked me one day at Toledo—probably at the time
when she saw the vision of the Castle—whether it was true that God was in all
things by His power, presence, and
essence, to which I replied in the affirmative, explaining it as best I could
on the authority of St. Paul, particularly where he says “the sufferings
of this time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come that shall be
revealed in us,”(Rom. viii. 18).  Laying stress on these words, “shall be
revealed in us,” she was so overjoyed that I was quite astonished. Though
in a way it seemed to me a kind of curiosity, I could not help thinking there
was some mystery about it, for she said: “This is the very thing.”

’Secondly,
she was greatly surprised at the malice of sin, since, notwithstanding the
presence of God in these various ways, it prevents the soul from partaking of
that powerful light.

’Thirdly,
she derived such humility and self-knowledge from this vision, that from that
moment she never thought of herself in all the good she was doing; for she
learnt that all the beauty of the soul emanates from that resplendent light,
and that the powers of the soul and of the body are enlivened and strengthened
by the Power established in the centre, whence comes all our good, so that we
have but a small share in our good works. All the good she did, she from this
moment referred to God as its principal author.

’Fourthly,
she derived from it the subject of the book she was ordered to write on prayer,
comparing the
seven rooms of the Castle with as many degrees of prayer, whereby we enter
within ourselves and draw nearer to God. So that, penetrating to the depths of
our soul and gaining perfect self-knowledge, we reach the seventh room where
God Himself dwells, with Whom we become united by as perfect a union as is
possible in the present life, being made partakers of His light and love.

’I
will say no more of this vision and the Mansions,
because your Reverence must by now have seen this admirable book, and must know
with what accuracy, with what majestic doctrine, with what lucid examples she
describes the progress of the soul from the gate to the very centre. It is
clearly seen in this treatise how she communicated with our Lord, and how His
Majesty vouchsafed to place her in the centre and to unite her with Himself, as
she puts it, by the bonds of marriage and an inseparable union.’[17]

After
the publication of the Interior Castle,
in 1588 at Salamanca, it became not only more widely known, but also more and
more appreciated. Francis Suarez, the great theologian of the Society of Jesus,
says in his deposition in the process of Beatification that he had read some of
St. Teresa’s works, particularly the Mansions,
which contain an absolutely safe doctrine and give proof of a wonderful spirit
of prayer and contemplation.[18]

Thomas
Hurtado, professor of theology at Seville, speaks as follows:

As often as I read the books of the holy Mother, I admire the wonderful manner in
which God instructed her in mystical theology for the sake of souls giving
themselves truly to familiar intercourse with His divine Majesty. But where I
most regret my inability of expressing in fitting terms my sentiments towards
this excellent teacher is when I look at, and refresh myself in that Castle
with its seven rooms; for there is seen the effect of infused knowledge such as
St. Denis received from St. Hierotheus[19]  and both from St. Paul, and which has been
committed to writing in the famous book of Mystical
Theology. Hence comes, as from a fountain-head, notwithstanding the
obscurity (to our manner of thinking) of its language, the doctrine of the
great masters of the spiritual life such as Hugh of St. Victor, St. Bernard,
Ruysbroek, Tauler, Gerson, and many others whom I pass by.

’Nevertheless,
I will boldly say that no one has given us water more limpid from that
Apostolical and Areopagitical well than the holy Mother Teresa, who, in her
books, but chiefly in the Mansions,
has cleared up in simple language the most difficult questions of this divine
theology, and has brought forth light from darkness, as it is written:
(He) commanded light to shine out of darkness.’(2 Cor. iv. 6).  Who has ever been able to show as clearly as
our Saint how God takes possession of the soul, how He unites Himself with its
substance, whence comes to the intellect the light of faith, to the will the
ardour of love, and to the senses the jubilation over His works? No one has
ever turned theory into practice in a more convincing or more catholic manner.
The most profound secrets of this supernatural wisdom are here treated with
such ease, so amiably, so delightfully, they are illustrated by such nice and
homely examples, that instead of awe-inspiring obscurity, we find lovely
flowers and the sweetness of love, through which, as through an avenue, the
soul passes onwards. When God made known His exalted doctrine to St. Dionysius
and other mystical writers, He made use of their own language and pen. But St.
Teresa in the Mansions is like the
light of dawn whose rays are not intercepted by the clouds of this world; like
a soft rain from above, whereby the soul grows and profits by its
communications with God. Until the teaching of this great door became known it
seemed as though God were inaccessible, being surrounded by darkness, through
which Moses and some other persons had to pass when approaching Him;The example
of Moses is scarcely to the point (cf. (Exod. xxxiii. 11), and (Num. xii. 7, 8)).  but they neither explained the
manner nor showed the way whereby they came to the enjoyment of the sweetness
of the Spouse. Now, however, this way is clear and patent to all, having been
pointed out in the Mansions, in
language so straight and so methodical, and no longer such as could not be
understood, or required further explanation. In my opinion this holy writer
derived not only the substance of her teaching from infused knowledge, but even
the words with which she explains it.’[20]

Likewise
Don Alvaro de Villegas, canon of Toledo, expressed his opinion that the Way of Perfection and the Interior Castle contain ‘heavenly
doctrine.’ The weight of the subject-matter, the propriety of the comparisons,
the force of the expressions, the consistency of the teaching, the sweetness of
her well-chosen, vivid words, the clearness of the arguments, all this proves
that she was guided by her heavenly Spouse, in Whom are hidden the treasures of
the wisdom of God; and that the Holy Ghost, Who more than once was seen resting
on her head like a dove, was dilating these works. Villegas does not believe
that any one could read them, as such books ought to be read, without becoming
himself a master of the spiritual life. For they are like heavenly dew,
rendering the soul fruitful in the matter of prayer.[21]

It
would be a mistake to consider the Interior
Castle a complete treatise of mystical theology. Like St. Teresa’s other
works, it is intensely personal: she describes the road by which she has been
led, being well aware that others may be led in a different way. In the
heavenly Father’s house there are many mansions, not only seven, and many paths
lead to them. What gives the work such high value is, that it is the result of
a most searching inquiry into the various phases whereby a soul is gradually
transformed into the likeness of God Himself. Here St. Teresa is always at her
best. She takes nothing for granted, even her own personal experiences are
admitted only after having been fully investigated and found to be consistent
one with the other, and conformable to the teaching of the Church and the words
of Holy Scripture.

Mystical
theology is generally divided into three parts, respectively called the
purgative, the illuminative, and the unitive life. In the first, man is
cleansed from sin and habitual imperfection by the use of the sacraments and by
voluntary mortification of the passions. The mind is purified by sedulous
meditation on the last end and on the Life and Passion of Christ, which must
ever be the great model of the Christian. This first portion of the way to
heaven can be covered by the help of the ordinary means of grace, without any
direct and extraordinary intervention of divine power. The
second part differs in many ways from the first. It comprises the passive
purification of the soul and the passive enlightenment of the mind. By sending
it keen interior and exterior trials and sufferings, God completes the
cleansing of the soul in a manner far surpassing any voluntary effort of man.
By raising it to the stage of contemplation He gives it fresh light on the
mysteries of our Redemption. The mind is then no longer compelled to strain the
memory, the reason, and the will, in order to dwell upon the great truths of
religion and to derive some personal benefit therefrom, for these truths are
now more or less permanently before it and fill it with holy thoughts,
sometimes giving it consolation in trouble, at other times striking a warning
note against imperfection. Again, the subtraction of sensible consolation, and
the interior aridity arising therefrom, leave a terrible blank in the soul,
showing it that, without God’s help, it is mere nothingness. This apparent
estrangement from God is the keenest trial that can befall a soul, but also the
most powerful means of cleansing it from the least, the most subtle
imperfections.

Emerging
from this state of probation, the soul enters upon the third stage, in which,
though perhaps in the midst of severe suffering and sharp persecution, it knows
itself to be a chosen child of God, to Whom it is united by perfect conformity
of the will. Such phenomena as revelations, visions, locutions,
and even more wonderful manifestations, like the wound of love, spiritual
betrothal and nuptials, are incidental rather than essential to the second and
third stages. Some great contemplatives have never experienced anything of the
kind, while, on the other hand, some of these occurrences may sometimes have
been merely the work of an exuberant imagination, or even the result of
diabolical illusion. They should therefore never be wished for, or cherished,
but rather shunned and ignored, in as far as that is possible. If they are real
and come from God, they will do their work without the co-operation of the
soul. The danger of self-deception is so great that a person labouring under
such phenomena should offer every resistance, and the spiritual director should
exercise the utmost vigilance. St. Teresa is very eloquent on this point, and
undeceived many would-be contemplatives, while her disciple, St. John of the
Cross, is even more thorough-going in the deprecation of spiritual favours.
Among the numerous marks whereby the trained theologian may discriminate
between real and imaginary phenomena, there is one about which Saint Teresa
speaks with wonderful clearness. If they proceed from hysteria the imagination
alone is active and the higher powers of the soul are torpid; if, however, they
come from God, the intellect and the will are so intensely active, that
the lower powers and even the body lose all strength for the time being.

It
will be noticed that the first two Mansions belong to the purgative life, the
third and fourth to the illuminative, and the remaining three to the unitive
life. Compared with similar works, the treatment of the first stage must be
called meagre. True, in her Life and
in the Way of Perfection St. Teresa
has dealt with this subject somewhat more fully. Indeed, the last-named work
was designed as a treatise on Christian Ascetics, dealing with the purgation of
the soul by mortification and the enlightenment of the mind by meditation. There,
too, appears the first idea of the Mansions,[22]  and Fuente remarks that the passage in
question may be taken for the parting of the ways between the two works.
However, this is not the only, nor, indeed, the chief reason why St. Teresa is
so reticent about the preliminary stage of the contemplative life. The fact is
that she herself did not pass through these experiences. By God’s grace she was
preserved from childhood from grievous sin and gross imperfection. Though she
never grows tired of bewailing her faults and unfaithfulness, these avowals
must be taken cum grano salis. While
yet a child, she sometimes gave way to vanity in dress and wasted her time in
reading romances. As a young religious, she was sought after by friends and
relatives who took
pleasure in her attractive conversation. This proved further loss of time and
caused distractions. Owing to acute suffering, she for some years left off the
practice of mental prayer, though she faithfully performed all her religious
obligations, as far as her weak state of health allowed. This is all. The war
of the flesh against the spirit, the insubordination of the lower parts of
nature, the fickleness of the will, which so often thwart the most noble
aspirations of a soul, were unknown to her. Under these circumstances, we
cannot be surprised to find her entering upon the journey towards God at a
point which in many cases marks but the closing stage.

As
to the remaining parts of this book, it will be seen from the parallel passages
that they cover much the same ground as her Life
and the Relations. With her singular
gift of introspection and analysis, the Saint studied her own case from every
point of view, so as to make sure that her extraordinary experiences were due
to no illusion, and offered no obstacle to the safety of her soul. Although the
Interior Castle contains little that
we do not already know from her other works, it is superior to them by reason
of its logical order and the masterly treatment of the most recondite matters
of mystical theology. While ostensibly dealing with general facts, St. Teresa
in reality records her personal experiences. How definite these were, how
little room there remained for the freaks of the imagination, will
appear from the fact that she nearly always repeats the very words she had used
in her Life and in the other reports
of her interior progress, although she did not have these writings before her
eyes, nor had she ever seen them since they first left her hands. Every one of
her experiences must have produced a profound impression to be remembered so
minutely after an interval of years.

There
is that in the Interior Castle which
reminds one of Dante’s Paradiso. In
the one and the other, the soul, purified from earthly dross, is gradually
being invested with new and glorious qualities, and is being led through
regions unknown until it arrives at the very threshold of the throne of God.
Not even the boldest imagination could have designed so wonderful a picture of
a soul adorned with graces at once so varied and so true. In one case we know,
the poet has drawn abundantly from the treasury of the Angelical Doctor,
putting in verse the conclusions of the scholastic theologian. In the other
case we can follow, chapter by chapter, the influence of the teaching of St.
Thomas Aquinas. St. Teresa had never studied it herself, but her directors and
confessors were deeply versed in it and solved her doubts and perplexities on
the lines of the greatest of the school men. The Interior Castle might almost be considered a practical illustration
of certain parts of the Summa theologica,[23]
as
it describes the progress of the soul through every stage of perfection. When
we have reached the second chapter of the seventh Mansion, there remains but
one thing: the Beatific Vision, and this is reserved for the next life.

After
the publication of the Interior Castle
by Luis de Leon, the manuscript came into the possession of Father Jerome
Gracian, who, after having made a copy of it which is still extant, presented
the original, on the occasion of a visit to the convent of Seville, to Don
Pedro Cereso Pardo, a great friend of the Saint, and a benefactor to the
convent. When his only daughter took the habit there, the precious manuscript
was part of her dowry. Doña Juana de Mendoza, Duchess of Beguiar, a novice in
the same convent, had it bound in silver and precious stones. It is still
there,[24]  and the present writer had the privilege of
seeing it. It comprises a hundred and thirteen leaves in folio, but originally
there must have been some more leaves which at a later period were torn out.
These, it is presumed, contained the headings of the chapters. Unlike the Life and the Foundations, the text of the Castle
is divided only by figures, without indication of the contents of each chapter,
but the arguments which have come down to us are so entirely similar to those
of the two works named,
that it is impossible to consider them otherwise than the genuine work of the
author. In the present translation they have been inserted in their proper
places.

On
the occasion of the ter-centenary of Saint Teresa’s death, a photo-lithographic
edition of the original was published under the direction of Cardinal Lluch,
Carmelite of the old observance, Archbishop of Seville:

El Castillo Ynterior ó Tratado de las Moradas,

escrito por Sta. Teresa de Jesús.

Litografia de Juan Moyano (Seville) 1882.

The
present translation, the third in English,[25]  has
been made directly from this autograph edition. It has been thought advisable
that, as far as the genius of the language allows it, the wording of the author
should be strictly adhered to, and that not even a shade of her expression
should be sacrificed. For Teresa is not only a saint whose every
word is telling, but she is a classic in her own language who knows how to give
expression to her deepest thoughts. Having compared word for word the
translation with the original, I am in a position to affirm that this programme
has been faithfully carried out. For the foot-notes—with few exceptions—as
well as for the Index, I am responsible. It seemed to me important to point out
all the parallel passages from the various works of the Saint. Only by this
means can it be seen how consistent Saint Teresa is in all her
writings.[26]  It would have been easy to multiply
quotations from the works of other writers on mystical theology. Thus, the
influence of the Imitation of Christ
and of the Life of our Lord by
Ludolphus the Carthusian can be distinctly traced in the Interior Castle. Both these works, as well as some Spanish books,
were held in such esteem by St. Teresa, that she ordered the prioress of each
convent to keep them at the disposal of the nuns. As there is a limit to
footnotes, I have contented myself with such references as seemed to me
conducive to the elucidation of the doctrine laid down in this treatise.

In
conclusion I venture to express the hope that this
new translation will be found helpful by those who feel called to a higher
life.

BENEDICT ZIMMERMAN,

Prior, O.C.D.

ST. LUKE’S PRIORY,

WINCANTON, SOMERSET.

July, 1, 1905, and December 25, 1911.

Introduction

Introduction

THIS
TREATISE, STYLED THE INTERIOR CASTLE, WAS WRITTEN BY TERESA OF JESUS, NUN OF
OUR LADY OF CARMEL, FOR HER SISTERS AND DAUGHTERS, THE DISCALCED CARMELITE
NUNS.

RARELY
has obedience laid upon me so difficult a task as this of writing about prayer;
for one reason, because I do not feel that God has given me either the power or
the desire for it, besides which, during the last three months I have suffered
from noises and a great weakness in my head that have made it painful for me to
write even on necessary business.[27]

However,
as I know the power obedience has of making things easy which seem impossible,
my will submits with a good grace, although nature seems greatly distressed,
for God has not given me such strength as to bear, without repugnance, the
constant struggle against illness while performing many different duties. May He,
Who has helped me
in other more difficult matters, aid me with His grace in this, for I trust in
His mercy. I think I have but little to say that has not already been put forth
in my other works written under obedience; in fact, I fear this will be but
repetition of them. I am like a parrot which has learnt to talk; only knowing
what it has been taught or has heard, it repeats the same thing over and over
again. If God wishes me to write anything new, He will teach it me, or bring
back to my memory what I have said elsewhere. I should be content even with
this, for as I am very forgetful, I should be glad to be able to recall some of
the matters about which people say I have spoken well, lest they should be
altogether lost. If our Lord will not even grant me this, still, if I weary my
brains and increase my headache by striving to obey, I shall gain in merit,
though my words should be useless to any one. So I begin this work on the Feast
of the Blessed Trinity in the year 1577, in the Convent of St. Joseph of Carmel
at Toledo, where I am living, and I submit all my writings to the judgment of
those learned men by whose commands I undertake them. That it will be the fault
of ignorance, not malice, if I say anything contrary to the doctrine of the
Holy Roman Catholic Church, may be held as certain. By God’s goodness I am, and
always shall be, faithful to the Church, as I have been in the past. May He be
for ever blessed and glorified. Amen.

He
who bids me write this, tells me that the nuns of these convents of our Lady of
Carmel need some one to solve their difficulties about prayer: he thinks
that women understand one another’s language best and that my sisters’
affection for me would make them pay special attention to my words, therefore
it is important for me to explain the subject clearly to them. Thus I am
writing only to my sisters; the idea that any one else could benefit by what I
say would be absurd. Our Lord will be doing me a great favour if He enables me
to help but one of the nuns to praise Him a little better; His Majesty knows
well that I have no other aim. If anything is to the point, they will
understand that it does not originate from me and there is no reason to
attribute it to me, as with my scant understanding and skill I could write nothing
of the sort, unless God, in His mercy, enabled me to do so.

The First Mansions

Chapter I.

THIS
CHAPTER TREATS OF THE BEAUTY AND DIGNITY OF OUR SOULS AND MAKES A COMPARISON TO
EXPLAIN THIS. THE ADVANTAGE OF KNOWING AND UNDERSTANDING THIS AND THE FAVOURS
GOD GRANTS TO US IS SHOWN, AND HOW PRAYER IS THE GATE OF THE SPIRITUAL CASTLE.

1. Plan of this book. 2. The Interior
Castle. 3. Our curable self ignorance. 4. God dwells in the centre of the soul.
5. Why all souls do not receive certain favours. 6. Reasons for speaking of
these favours. 7. The entrance of the Castle. 8. Entering into oneself. 9.
Prayer. 10. Those who dwell in the first mansion. 11. Entering. 12.
Difficulties of the subject.

1.
WHILE I was begging our Lord to-day to speak for me, since I knew not what to
say nor how to commence this work which obedience has laid upon me, an idea
occurred to me which I will explain, and which will serve as a foundation for
that I am about to write.

2.
I thought of the soul as resembling a castle,[28]  formed of a single diamond or a very
transparent crystal,[29]  and containing many rooms, just as in
heaven
there are many mansions.(St. John xiv. 2): ‘In domo Patris mei mansiones multæ sunt.’ St. John of the Cross
uses the same comparison: ‘If the soul shall overcome the devil in the first
combat, it shall then pass on to the second; and if it shall be victorious
there also, it shall then pass on to the third; and then through the seven
mansions, the seven degrees of love, until the Bridegroom shall bring it to the
“cellar of wine” of perfect charity.’ (Ascent of Mount Carmel, bk. ii. ch. xi. 7.)  If we reflect, sisters, we shall see that the
soul of the just man is but a paradise, in which, God tells us, He takes His
delight.(Prov. viii. 31): ‘Deliciæ meæ esse cum filiis hominum.’  What, do you imagine, must that dwelling be
in which a King so mighty, so wise, and so pure, containing in Himself all
good, can delight to rest? Nothing can be compared to the great beauty and
capabilities of a soul; however keen our intellects may be, they are as unable
to comprehend them as to comprehend God, for, as He has told us, He created us
in His own image and likeness.(Gen. i. 26): ‘Faciamus hominem ad imaginem et similitudinem nostram.’

3.
As this is so, we need not tire ourselves by trying to realize all the beauty
of this castle, although, being His creature, there is all the difference
between the soul and God that there is between the creature and the Creator;
the fact that it is made in God’s image teaches us how great are its dignity
and loveliness. It is no small misfortune and disgrace that, through our own
fault, we neither understand our nature nor our origin. Would it not be gross
ignorance, my daughters, if, when a man was questioned about his name, or
country, or parents, he could not answer? Stupid as this would be, it is
unspeakably more foolish to care to learn nothing
of our nature except that we possess bodies, and only to realize vaguely that
we have souls, because people say so and it is a doctrine of faith. Rarely do
we reflect upon what gifts our souls may possess, Who dwells within them, or
how extremely precious they are. Therefore we do little to preserve their
beauty; all our care is concentrated on our bodies, which are but the coarse
setting of the diamond, or the outer walls of the castle.[30]

4.
Let us imagine, as I said, that there are many rooms in this castle, of which
some are above, some below, others at the side; in the centre, in the very
midst of them all, is the principal chamber in which God and the soul hold
their most secret intercourse.[31]  Think over this comparison very carefully;
God grant it may enlighten you about the different kinds of graces He is pleased
to bestow upon the soul. No one can know all about them, much less a person so
ignorant as I am. The knowledge that such things are possible will console you
greatly should our Lord ever grant you
any
of these favours; people themselves deprived of them can then at least praise
Him for His great goodness in bestowing them on others. The thought of heaven
and the happiness of the saints does us no harm, but cheers and urges us to win
this joy for ourselves, nor will it injure us to know that during this exile
God can communicate Himself to us loathsome worms; it will rather make us love
Him for such immense goodness and infinite mercy.

5.
I feel sure that vexation at thinking that during our life on earth God can
bestow these graces on the souls of others shows a want of humility and charity
for one’s neighbour, for why should we not feel glad at a brother’s receiving
divine favours which do not deprive us of our own share? Should we not rather
rejoice at His Majesty’s thus manifesting His greatness wherever He chooses?(St. Matt. xx. 15): ‘Alit non licet mihi quod volo, facere? an oculus tuus nequam est, quia
ego bonus sum?’  Sometimes our Lord acts thus solely for the
sake of showing His power, as He declared when the Apostles questioned whether
the blind man whom He cured had been suffering for his own or his parents’
sins.(St. John ix. 2): ‘Quis peccavit, hic, aut parentes ejus, ut cæcus nasceretur?’  God does not bestow these favours on certain
souls because they are more holy than others who do not receive them, but to
manifest His greatness, as in the case of St. Paul and St. Mary Magdalen, and
that we may glorify Him in His creatures.

6.
People may say such things appear impossible and it is best not to scandalize
the weak in faith by speaking
about them. But it is better that the latter should disbelieve us, than that we
should desist from enlightening souls which receive these graces, that they may
rejoice and may endeavour to love God better for His favours, seeing He is so
mighty and so great. There is no danger here of shocking those for whom I write
by treating of such matters, for they know and believe that God gives even
greater proofs of His love. I am certain that if any one of you doubts the
truth of this, God will never allow her to learn it by experience, for He
desires that no limits should be set to His work: therefore, never discredit
them because you are not thus led yourselves.

7.
Now let us return to our beautiful and charming castle and discover how to enter
it. This appears incongruous: if this castle is the soul, clearly no one can
have to enter it, for it is the person himself: one might as well tell some one
to go into a room he is already in! There are, however, very different ways of
being in this castle; many souls live in the courtyard of the building where
the sentinels stand, neither caring to enter farther, nor to know who dwells in
that most delightful place, what is in it and what rooms it contains.

8.
Certain books on prayer that you have read advise the soul to enter into
itself,Imitation, bk. II. ch. 1: ‘Regnum Dei intra vos
est.’ (Luke. xvii. 21). The Imitation is one of
the books which according to St. Teresa’s Constitutions,
(§ 7) every prioress was bound to provide for her convent.  and this is what I mean. I was recently told
by a great theologian that souls without prayer are like bodies, palsied and
lame, having hands and feet they cannot use.  Just so,
there are souls so infirm and accustomed to think of nothing but earthly
matters, that there seems no cure for them. It appears impossible for them to
retire into their own hearts; accustomed as they are to be with the reptiles
and other creatures which live outside the castle, they have come at last to
imitate their habits. Though these souls are by their nature so richly endowed,
capable of communion even with God Himself, yet their case seems hopeless.
Unless they endeavour to understand and remedy their most miserable plight,
their minds will become, as it were, bereft of movement, just as Lot’s wife
became a pillar of salt for looking backwards in disobedience to God’s command.(Gen. xix. 26): ‘Respiciensque uxor ejus post se, versa est in statuam salis.’

9.
As far as I can understand, the gate by which to enter this castle is prayer
and meditation. I do not allude more to mental than to vocal prayer, for if it
is prayer at all, the mind must take part in it. If a person neither considers
to Whom he is addressing himself, what he asks, nor what he is who ventures to
speak to God, although his lips may utter many words, I do not call it prayer.[32]  Sometimes, indeed, one may pray devoutly
without making all these considerations through having practised them at other
times. The custom of speaking to God Almighty as freely as with a slave—caring
nothing whether the words are suitable or not, but simply saying the first
thing that comes to mind from being learnt by rote by frequent
repetition—cannot be called prayer: God grant that no
Christian may address Him in this manner. I trust His Majesty will prevent any
of you, sisters, from doing so. Our habit in this Order of conversing about
spiritual matters is a good preservative against such evil ways.

10.
Let us speak no more of these crippled souls, who are in a most miserable and
dangerous state, unless our Lord bid them rise, as He did the palsied man who
had waited more than thirty years at the pool of Bethsaida.(St. John v. 5): ‘Erat autem
quidam homo ibi triginta et octo annos habens in infirmitate sua.’  We will now think of the others who at last
enter the precincts of the castle; they are still very worldly, yet have some
desire to do right, and at times, though rarely, commend themselves to God’s
care. They think about their souls every now and then; although very busy, they
pray a few times a month, with minds generally filled with a thousand other
matters, for where their treasure is, there is their heart also.(St. Matt. vi. 21): ‘Ubi enim est thesaurus tuus ibi est et cor tuum.  Still, occasionally they cast aside these
cares; it is a great boon for them to realize to some extent the state of their
souls, and to see that they will never reach the gate by the road they are
following.

11.
At length they enter the first rooms in the basement of the castle, accompanied
by numerous reptiles[33]  which disturb their peace, and prevent their
seeing the beauty of the building; still, it is a great gain that these persons
should have found their way in at all.

12.
You may think, my daughters, that all this does not concern you, because, by
God’s grace, you are farther advanced; still, you must be patient with me, for
I can explain myself on some spiritual matters concerning prayer in no other
way. May our Lord enable me to speak to the point; the subject is most
difficult to understand without personal experience of such graces. Any one who
has received them will know how impossible it is to avoid touching on subjects
which, by the mercy of God, will never apply to us.

The First Mansions

Chapter II.

DESCRIBES
THE HIDEOUS APPEARANCE OF A SOUL IN MORTAL SIN AS REVEALED BY GOD TO SOME ONE:
OFFERS A FEW REMARKS ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE: THIS CHAPTER IS USEFUL AS IT CONTAINS
SOME POINTS REQUIRING ATTENTION. AN EXPLANATION OF THE MANSIONS.

1. Effects of mortal sin. 2. It prevents the
soul’s gaining merit. 3. The soul compared to a tree. 4. Disorder of the soul
in mortal sin. 5. Vision of a sinful soul. 6. Profit of realizing these
lessons. 7. Prayer. 8. Beauty of the Castle. 9. Self-knowledge 10. Gained by
meditating on the divine perfections. 11. Advantages of such meditation. 12.
Christ should be our model. 13. The devil entraps beginners. 14. Our strength
must come from God. 15. Sin blinds the soul. 16. Worldliness. 17. The world in
the cloister. 18. Assaults of the devil. 19. Examples of the devil’s arts. 20.
Perfection consists in charity. 21. Indiscreet zeal. 22. Danger of detraction.

1.
BEFORE going farther, I wish you to consider the state to which mortal sin[34]  brings this magnificent and beautiful castle,
this pearl of the East, this tree of life, planted beside the living waters of
life(Ps. i. 3): ‘Et erit tamquam lignum quod plantatum eat secus decursus
aquarum.’ which
symbolize God Himself. No night can be so dark, no gloom nor blackness can
compare to its obscurity. Suffice it to say that the sun in the centre of the
soul, which gave it such splendour and beauty, is totally eclipsed, though the
spirit is as fitted to enjoy God’s presence as is the crystal to reflect the
sun.[35]

2.
While the soul is in mortal sin nothing can profit it; none of its good works
merit an eternal reward, since they do not proceed from God as their first
principle, and by Him alone is our virtue real virtue. The soul separated from
Him is no longer pleasing in His eyes, because by committing a mortal sin,
instead of seeking to please God, it prefers to gratify the devil, the prince
of darkness, and so comes to share his blackness. I knew a person to whom our
Lord revealed the result of a mortal sin[36]  and who said she thought no one who realized
its effects could ever commit it, but would suffer unimaginable torments to
avoid it. This vision made her very desirous for all to grasp this truth,
therefore I beg you, my daughters, to pray fervently to God for sinners, who
live in blindness and do deeds of darkness.

3.
In a state of grace the soul is like a well of limpid water, from which flow
only streams of clearest crystal. Its works are pleasing both to God and man,
rising from the River of Life, beside which it is rooted like a tree. Otherwise
it would produce neither leaves nor fruit, for the waters of grace nourish
it, keep it from withering from drought, and cause it to bring forth good
fruit. But the soul by sinning withdraws from this stream of life, and growing
beside a black and fetid pool, can produce nothing but disgusting and
unwholesome fruit.

Notice
that it is not the fountain and the brilliant sun which lose their splendour
and beauty, for they are placed in the very centre of the soul and cannot be
deprived of their lustre. The soul is like a crystal in the sunshine over which
a thick black cloth has been thrown, so that however brightly the sun may shine
the crystal can never reflect it.

4.
O souls, redeemed by the Blood of Jesus Christ, take these things to heart;
have mercy on yourselves! If you realize your pitiable condition, how can you
refrain from trying to remove the darkness from the crystal of your souls?
Remember, if death should take you now, you would never again enjoy the light
of this Sun. O Jesus! how sad a sight must be a soul deprived of light! What a
terrible state the chambers of this castle are in! How disorderly must be the
senses—the inhabitants of the castle—the powers of the soul its magistrates,
governors, and stewards—blind and uncontrolled as they are! In short, as the
soil in which the tree is now planted is in the devil’s domain, how can its
fruit be anything but evil? A man of great spiritual insight once told me he
was not so much surprised at such a soul’s wicked deeds as astonished that it
did not commit even worse sins. May God in His mercy keep us from such great
evil, for nothing in this life merits the name of evil in comparison with this,
which delivers us over to evil which is eternal.

5.
This is what we must dread and pray God to deliver us from, for we are weakness
itself, and unless He guards the city, in vain shall we labour to defend it.[37]  The person of whom I spoke[38]  said that she had learnt two things from the
vision granted her. The first was, a great fear of offending God; seeing how
terrible were the consequences, she constantly begged Him to preserve her from
falling into sin. Secondly, it was a mirror to teach her humility, for she saw
that nothing good in us springs from ourselves but comes from the waters of
grace near which the soul remains like a tree planted beside a river, and from
that Sun which gives life to our works. She realized this so vividly that on
seeing any good deed performed by herself or by other people she at once turned
to God as to its fountain head—without whose help she knew well we can do
nothing—and broke out into songs of praise to Him. Generally she forgot all
about herself and only thought of God when she did any meritorious action.

6.
The time which has been spent in reading or writing on this subject will not
have been lost if it has taught us these two truths; for though learned, clever
men know them perfectly, women’s wits are dull and need help in every way.
Perhaps this is why our Lord has suggested these comparisons to me; may He give
us grace to profit by them!

7.
So obscure are these spiritual matters that to explain
them an ignorant person like myself must say much that is superfluous, and even
alien to the subject, before coming to the point. My readers must be patient
with me, as I am with myself while writing what I do not understand; indeed, I
often take up the paper like a dunce, not knowing what to say, nor how to
begin. Doubtless there is need for me to do my best to explain these spiritual
subjects to you, for we often hear how beneficial prayer is for our souls; our
Constitutions oblige us to pray so many hours a day, yet tell us nothing of
what part we ourselves can take in it and very little of the work God does in
the soul by its means.[39]  It will be helpful, in setting it before you
in various ways, to consider this heavenly edifice within us, so little understood
by men, near as they often come to it. Our Lord gave me grace to understand
something of such matters when I wrote on them before, yet I think I have more
light now, especially on the more difficult questions. Unfortunately I am too
ignorant to treat of such subjects without saying much that is already well
known.

8.
Now let us turn at last to our castle with its many mansions. You must not
think of a suite of rooms placed in succession, but fix your eyes on the keep,
the court inhabited by the King.[40]  Like the kernel of the palmito,[41]  from which several rinds must
be removed before coming to the eatable part, this principal chamber is
surrounded by many others. However large, magnificent, and spacious you imagine
this castle to be, you cannot exaggerate it; the capacity of the soul is beyond
all our understanding, and the Sun within this palace enlightens every part of
it.

9.
A soul which gives itself to prayer, either much or little, should on no
account be kept within narrow bounds. Since God has given it such great
dignity, permit it to wander at will through the rooms of the castle, from the
lowest to the highest. Let it not force itself to remain for very long in the
same mansion, even that of self-knowledge. Mark well, however, that
self-knowledge is indispensable, even for those whom God takes to dwell in the
same mansion with Himself. Nothing else, however elevated, perfects the soul
which must never seek to forget its own nothingness. Let humility be always at
work, like the bee at the honeycomb, or all will be lost. But, remember, the
bee leaves its hive to fly in search of flowers and the soul should sometimes
cease thinking of itself to rise in meditation on the grandeur and majesty of
its God. It will learn its own baseness better thus than by self-contemplation,
and will be freer from the reptiles which enter the first room where
self-knowledge is acquired. Although it is a great grace from God to practise
self-examination, yet ‘too much is as bad as too little,’ as they say; believe me, by God’s
help, we shall advance more by contemplating the Divinity than by keeping our eyes
fixed on ourselves, poor creatures of earth that we are.

10.
I do not know whether I have put this clearly; self-knowledge is of such
consequence that I would not have you careless of it, though you may be lifted
to heaven in prayer, because while on earth nothing is more needful than
humility. Therefore, I repeat, not only a good
way, but the best of all ways, is to
endeavour to enter first by the room where humility is practised, which is far
better than at once rushing on to the others. This is the right road;—if we
know how easy and safe it is to walk by it, why ask for wings with which to
fly? Let us rather try to learn how to advance quickly. I believe we shall
never learn to know ourselves except by endeavouring to know God, for,
beholding His greatness we are struck by our own baseness, His purity shows our
foulness, and by meditating on His humility we find how very far we are from
being humble.

11.
Two advantages are gained by this practice. First, it is clear that white looks
far whiter when placed near something black, and on the contrary, black never
looks so dark as when seen beside something white. Secondly, our understanding
and will become more noble and capable of good in every way when we turn from
ourselves to God: it is very injurious never to raise our minds above the mire
of our own faults. I described how murky and fetid are the streams that spring
from the source of a soul in mortal sin.[42]  Thus (although the case is not
really the same, God forbid! this is only a comparison), while we are
continually absorbed in contemplating the weakness of our earthly nature, the
springs of our actions will never flow free from the mire of timid, weak, and
cowardly thoughts, such as: ‘I wonder whether people are noticing me or not! If
I follow this course, will harm come to me? Dare I begin this work? Would it
not be presumptuous? Is it right for any one as faulty as myself to speak on
sublime spiritual subjects?[43]  Will not people think too well of me, if I
make myself singular? Extremes are bad, even in virtue; sinful as I am I shall
only fall the lower. Perhaps I shall fail and be a source of scandal to good
people; such a person as I am has no need of peculiarities.’

12.
Alas, my daughters, what loss the devil must have caused to many a soul by such
thoughts as these! It thinks such ideas and many others of the same sort I
could mention arise from humility. This comes from not understanding our own
nature; self-knowledge becomes so warped that, unless we take our thoughts off
ourselves, I am not surprised that these and many worse fears should threaten
us. Therefore I maintain, my daughters, that we should fix our eyes on Christ
our only good, and on His saints; there we shall learn true humility, and our
minds will be ennobled, so that self-knowledge will not make us base and
cowardly. Although only the first, this mansion contains great riches and such
treasures that if the soul only manages to elude
the reptiles dwelling here, it cannot fail to advance farther. Terrible are the
wiles and stratagems the devil uses to hinder people from realizing their
weakness and detecting his snares.

13.
From personal experience I could give you much information as to what happens
in these first mansions. I will only say that you must not imagine there are
only a few, but a number of rooms, for souls enter them by many different ways,
and always with a good intention. The devil is so angry at this that he keeps
legions of evil spirits hidden in each room to stop the progress of Christians,
whom, being ignorant of this, he entraps in a thousand ways. He cannot so
easily deceive souls which dwell nearer to the King as he can beginners still
absorbed in the world, immersed in its pleasures, and eager for its honours and
distinctions. As the vassals of their souls, the senses and powers bestowed on
them by God, are weak, such people are easily vanquished, although desirous not
to offend God.

14.
Those conscious of being in this state must as often as possible have recourse
to His Majesty, taking His Blessed Mother and the saints for their advocates to
do battle for them, because we creatures possess little strength for
self-defence. Indeed in every state of life all our help must come from God;
may He in His mercy grant it us, Amen! What a miserable life we lead! As I have
spoken more fully in other writings[44]  on the ill that results from ignoring the
need of humility and self-knowledge, I will treat no
more about it here, my daughters, although it is of the first importance. God
grant that what I have said may be useful to you.

15
You must notice that the light which comes from the King’s palace hardly shines
at all in these first mansions; although not as gloomy and black as the soul in
mortal sin, yet they are in semi-darkness, and their inhabitants see scarcely
anything. I cannot explain myself; I do not mean that this is the fault of the
mansions themselves, but that the number of snakes, vipers, and venomous
reptiles from outside the castle prevent souls entering them from seeing the
light. They resemble a person entering a chamber full of brilliant sunshine,
with eyes clogged and half closed with dust. Though the room itself is light,
he cannot see because of his self-imposed impediment. In the same way, these
fierce and wild beasts blind the eyes of the beginner, so that he sees nothing
but them.

16.
Such, it appears to me, is the soul which, though not in a state of mortal sin,
is so worldly and preoccupied with earthly riches, honours, and affairs, that
as I said, even if it sincerely wishes to enter into itself and enjoy the
beauties of the castle, it is prevented by these distractions and seems unable
to overcome so many obstacles. It is most important to withdraw from all
unnecessary cares and business, as far as compatible with the duties of one’s state
of life, in order to enter the second mansion. This is so essential, that
unless done immediately I think it impossible for any one ever to reach the
principal room, or even to remain where
he is without great risk of losing what is already gained; otherwise, although
he is inside the castle, he will find it impossible to avoid being bitten some
time or other by some of the very venomous creatures surrounding him.

17.
What then would become of a religious like ourselves, my daughters, if, after
having escaped from all these impediments, and having entered much farther into
the more secret mansion, she should, by her own fault, return to all this
turmoil? Through her sins, many other people on whom God had bestowed great
graces would culpably relapse into their wretched state. In our convents we are
free from these exterior evils; please God our minds may be as free from them,
and may He deliver us from such ills.

18.
Do not trouble yourselves, my daughters, with cares which do not concern you.
You must notice that the struggle with the demons continues through nearly all
the mansions of this castle. True, in some of them, the guards, which, as I
explained, are the powers of the soul, have strength for the combat, but we
must be keenly on the watch against the devils’s arts, lest he deceive us in
the form of an angel of light. He creeps in gradually, in numberless ways, and
does us much harm, though we do not discover it until too late.[45]

19.
As I said elsewhere,[46]  he works like a file, secretly and silently
wearing its way: I will give you some examples to show how he begins his wiles. For instance: a
nun has such a longing for penance as to feel no peace unless she is tormenting
herself in some way.[47]  This is good in itself; but suppose that the
Prioress has forbidden her to practise any mortifications without special
leave, and the sister thinking that, in such a meritorious cause, she may
venture to disobey, secretly leads such a life that she loses her health and
cannot even fulfil the requirements of her rule—you see how this show of good
ends. Another nun is very zealous about religious perfection; this is very
right, but may cause her to think every small fault she sees in her sisters a
serious crime, and to watch constantly whether they do anything wrong, that she
may run to the Prioress to accuse them of it. At the same time, may be she
never notices her own shortcomings because of her great zeal about other
people’s religious observance, while perhaps her sisters, not seeing her
intention but only knowing of the watch she keeps on them, do not take her
behaviour in good part.

20.
The devil’s chief aim here is to cool the charity and lessen the mutual
affection of the nuns, which would injure them seriously. Be sure, my
daughters, that true perfection consists in the love of God and our neighbour,
and the better we keep both these commandments, the more perfect we shall be.
The sole object of our Rule and Constitutions is to help us to observe these
two laws.

21.
Indiscreet zeal about others must not be indulged in; it may do us much harm;
let each one look to herself. However, as I have spoken fully on
this subject elsewhere,[48]  I will not enlarge on it here, and will only
beg you to remember the necessity of this mutual affection. Our souls may lose
their peace and even disturb other people’s if we are always criticizing trivial
actions which often are not real defects at all, but we construe them wrongly
through ignorance of their motives. See how much it costs to attain perfection!
Sometimes the devil tempts nuns in this way about the Prioress, which is still
more dangerous. Great prudence is then required, for if she disobeys the Rule
or Constitutions the matter must not always be overlooked, but should be
mentioned to her;[49]  if, after this, she does not amend, the
Superior of the Order should be informed of it. It is true charity to speak in
this case, as it would be if we saw our sisters commit a grave fault; to keep
silence for fear that speech would be a temptation against charity, would be
that very temptation itself.[50]

22.
However, I must warn you seriously not to talk to each other about such things,
lest the devil deceive you. He would gain greatly by your doing so, because it
would lead to the habit of detraction; rather, as I said, state the matter to
those whose duty it is to remedy it. Thank God our custom here
of keeping almost perpetual silence gives little opportunity for such
conversations, still, it is well to stand ever on our guard.

The Second Mansions

Only Chapter

TREATS
OF THE GREAT IMPORTANCE OF PERSEVERANCE IN ORDER TO ENTER THE LAST MANSIONS,
AND OF THE FIERCE WAR THE DEVIL WAGES AGAINST US. HOW ESSENTIAL IT IS TO TAKE
THE RIGHT PATH FROM THE VERY COMMENCEMENT OF OUR JOURNEY. A METHOD OF ACTION
WHICH HAS PROVED VERY EFFICACIOUS.

1. Souls in the second mansions. 2. Their
state. 3. Their sufferings. 4. They cannot get rid of their imperfections. 5.
How God calls these souls. 6. Perseverance is essential. 7. Temptations of the
devil. 8. Delusion of earthly joys. 9. God alone to be loved. 10. Reasons for
continuing the journey. 11. War fare of the devil. 12. Importance of choice of
friends. 13. Valour required. 14. Presumption of expecting spiritual
consolations at first. 15. In the Cross is strength. 16. Our falls should raise
us higher. 17. Confidence and perseverance. 18. Recollection. 19. Why we must
practise prayer. 20. Meditation kindles love.

1.
Now let us consider which are the souls that enter the second mansions, and
what they do there: I do not wish to enlarge on this subject, having already
treated it very fully elsewhere,[51]  for
I could not avoid repeating myself, as my memory is very bad. If I could state
my ideas in another form they would not weary you, for we never tire of reading
books on this subject, numerous as they are. 2.
In this part of the castle are found souls which have begun to practise
prayer; they realize the importance of their not remaining in the first
mansions, yet often lack determination to quit their present condition by
avoiding occasions of sin, which is a very perilous state to be in.

3.
However, it is a great grace that they should sometimes make good their escape
from the vipers and poisonous creatures around them and should understand the
need of avoiding them. In some way these souls suffer a great deal more than
those in the first mansions, although not in such danger, as they begin to
understand their peril and there are great hopes of their entering farther into
the castle. I say that they suffer a great deal more, for those in an earlier
stage are like deaf-mutes and are not so distressed at being unable to speak,
while the others, who can hear but cannot talk, find it much harder. At the
same time, it is better not to be deaf, and a decided advantage to hear what is
said to us.

4.
These souls hear our Lord calling them, for as they approach nearer to where
His Majesty dwells He proves a loving Neighbour, though they may still be
engaged in the amusements and business, the pleasures and vanities of this
world. While in this state we continually fall into sin and rise again, for the
creatures amongst whom we dwell are so venomous, so vicious, and so dangerous,
that it is almost impossible to avoid being tripped up by them. Yet such are
the pity and compassion of this Lord of ours, so desirous is He that we should seek
Him and enjoy His company, that in one way or another He never ceases calling
us to Him. So sweet is His voice, that the poor soul is disconsolate at being
unable to follow His bidding at once, and therefore, as I said, suffers more
than if it could not hear Him.

5.
I do not mean that divine communications and inspirations received in this
mansion are the same as those I shall describe later on; God here speaks to
souls through words uttered by pious people, by sermons or good books, and in
many other such ways. Sometimes He calls souls by means of sickness or
troubles, or by some truth He teaches them during prayer, for tepid as they may
be in seeking Him, yet God holds them very dear.

6.
Do not think lightly, sisters, of this first grace, nor be downcast if you have
not responded immediately to Our Lord’s voice, for His Majesty is willing to
wait for us many a day and even many a year, especially when He sees
perseverance and good desires in our hearts. Perseverance is the first
essential; with this we are sure to profit greatly. However, the devils now fiercely
assault the soul in a thousand different ways: it suffers more than ever,
because formerly it was mute and deaf, or at least could hear very little, and
offered but feeble resistance, like one who has almost lost all hope of
victory.

7.
Here, however, the understanding being more vigilant and the powers more on the
alert, we cannot avoid hearing the fighting and cannonading around us. For now
the devils set on us the reptiles, that is to say, thoughts about the world and
its joys which
they picture as unending; they remind us of the high esteem men held us in, of
our friends and relations; they tell us how the penances which souls in this
mansion always begin to wish to perform would injure our health: in fine, the
evil spirits place a thousand impediments in the way.

8.
O Jesus! What turmoil the devils cause in the poor soul! How unhappy it feels,
not knowing whether to go forward or to return to the first mansion! On the
other hand, reason shows it the delusion of overrating worldly things, while
faith teaches what alone can satisfy its cravings. Memory reminds the soul how
all earthly joys end, recalling the death of those who lived at ease; how some
died suddenly and were soon forgotten, how others, once so prosperous, are now
buried beneath the ground and men pass by the graves where they lie, the prey
of worms,
’How
many, thinking to live long, have been deceived and unexpectedly have been
snatched away! How often hast thou heard that such a one was slain by the
sword; another drowned; another, falling from on high, broke his neck; this man
died at the table; that other came to his death while he was at play. . . .
Thus death is the end of all; and man’s life passeth suddenly like a shadow’[52]  while the mind recalls many other such
incidents.

9.
The will inclines to love Our Lord and longs to make some return to Him Who is
so amiable, and Who has given so many proofs of His love, especially by His
constant presence with the soul, which this faithful Lover never quits, ever
accompanying it and giving it life and being. The understanding aids
by showing that however many years life might last, no one could ever wish for
a better friend than God; that the world is full of falsehood, and that the
worldly pleasures pictured by the devil to the mind were but troubles and cares
and annoyances in disguise.

10.
Reason convinces the soul that as outside its interior castle are found neither
peace nor security, it should cease to seek another home abroad, its own being
full of riches that it can enjoy at will. Besides, it is not every one who,
like itself, possesses all he needs within his own dwelling, and above all,
such a Host, Who will give it all it can desire, unless, like the prodigal son,
it chooses to go astray and feed with the swine.(St. Luke xv. 16): ‘Et
cupiebat implere ventrem suum de siliquis quas porci manducabant.’  Surely these arguments are strong enough to
defeat the devil’s wiles! But, O my God, how the force of worldly habits and
the example of others who practise them ruin everything! Our faith is so dead
that we trust less to its teaching than to what is visible, though, indeed, we
see that worldly lives bring nothing but unhappiness. All this results from
those venomous thoughts I described, which, unless we are very careful, will
deform the soul as the sting of a viper poisons and swells the body.

11.
When this happens, great care is evidently needed to cure it, and only God’s
signal mercy prevents its resulting in death. Indeed, the soul passes through
severe trials at this time, especially when the devil perceives from a person’s
character and behaviour that she is likely to make very great progress,
for then all hell will league together to force her to turn back. O my Lord!
what need there is here that, by Thy mercy, Thou shouldst prevent the soul from
being deluded into forsaking the good begun! Enlighten it to see that its
welfare consists in perseverance in the right way, and in the withdrawing from
bad company.

12.
It is of the utmost importance for the beginner to associate with those who
lead a spiritual life,[53]  and not only with those in the same mansion
as herself, but with others who have travelled farther into the castle, who
will aid her greatly and draw her to join them. The soul should firmly resolve
never to submit to defeat, for if the devil sees it staunchly determined to
lose life and comfort and all that he can offer, rather than return to the
first mansion, he will the sooner leave it alone.

13.
Let the Christian be valiant; let him not be like those who lay down to drink
from the brook when they went to battle (I do not remember when).With Gedeon.
(Jud. vii. 5): ‘Qui lingua lambuerint aquas, sicut solent canes lambere,
separabis eos seorsum.’  Let him resolve to go forth to combat with
the host of demons, and be convinced that there is no better weapon than the
cross. I have already said,[54]  yet it is of such importance that I repeat it
here: let no one think on starting of the reward to be reaped: this would be a
very ignoble way of commencing such a large and stately building. If built on
sand it would soon fall down.(St. Matt. vii. 26, 27): ‘Qui ædificavit domum suam super arenam . . . et fuit ruina
illius magna.’  Souls who
acted thus would continually suffer from discouragement and temptations, for in
these mansions no manna rains;(Ps. lxxvii. 24): ‘Pluit illis manna ad manducandum.’ Way of Perf. ch. x. 4.  farther on, the soul is pleased with all that
comes, because it desires nothing but what God wills.

14.
What a farce it is! Here are we, with a thousand obstacles, drawbacks, and
imperfections within ourselves, our virtues so newly born that they have
scarcely the strength to act (and God grant that they exist at all!) yet we are
not ashamed to expect sweetness in prayer and to complain of feeling dryness.[55]

15.
Do not act thus, sisters; embrace the cross your Spouse bore on His shoulders;
know that your motto should be: ‘Most happy she who suffers most if it be for
Christ!’[56]  All else should be looked upon as secondary:
if our Lord give it you, render Him grateful thanks. You may imagine you would
be resolute in enduring external trials if God gave you interior consolations:
His Majesty knows best what is good for us; it is not for us to advise Him how
to treat us, for He has the right to tell us that we know not what we ask.(St. Matt. xx. 22): ‘Nescitis quid petatis.’  Remember, it is of the greatest
importance—the sole aim of one beginning to practise prayer should be to
endure trials, and to resolve and strive to the utmost of her power to conform
her own will to the will of
God.[57]  Be
certain that in this consists all the greatest perfection to be attained in the
spiritual life, as I will explain later. She who practises this most perfectly
will receive from God the highest reward and is the farthest advanced on the
right road. Do not imagine that we have need of a cabalistic formula or any
other occult or mysterious thing to attain it our whole welfare consists in doing
the will of God. If we start with the false principle of wishing God to follow
our will and to lead us in the way we think best, upon what firm foundation can
this spiritual edifice rest?

16.
Let us endeavour to do our best: beware of the poisonous reptiles—that is to
say, the bad thoughts and aridities which are often permitted by God to assail
and torment us so that we cannot repel them. Indeed, perchance we feel their
sting! He allows this to teach us to be more on our guard in the future and to
see whether we grieve much at offending Him. Therefore if you occasionally
lapse into sin, do not lose heart and cease trying to advance, for God will
draw good even out of our falls, like the merchant who sells theriac, who first
takes poison, then the theriac, to prove the power of his elixir.[58]  This combat would suffice to teach us to amend
our habits if we realized our failings in no other way, and would show us the
injury we receive from a life of dissipation. Can any evil be greater than that
we find at home? What peace can we hope to find elsewhere, if we have
none within
us? What friends or kindred can be so close and intimate as the powers of our
soul, which, whether we will or no, must ever bear us company? These seem to
wage war on us as if they knew the harm our vices had wrought them. ‘Peace,
peace be unto you,’ my sisters, as our Lord said, and many a time proclaimed to
His Apostles.(St. Luke xxiv. 36). (St. John xx. 19).  Believe me, if we neither possess nor strive
to obtain this peace at home, we shall never find it abroad.

17.
By the blood which our Lord shed for us, I implore those who have not yet begun
to enter into themselves, to stop this warfare: I beg those already started in
the right path, not to let the combat turn them back from it. Let them reflect
that a relapse is worse than a fall, and see what ruin it would bring. They
should confide in God’s mercy, trusting nothing in themselves; then they will
see how His Majesty will lead them from one mansion to another, and will set
them in a place where these wild beasts can no more touch or annoy them, but will
be entirely at their mercy and merely objects of ridicule. Then, even in this
life, they will enjoy a far greater happiness than they are able even to
desire.

18.
As I said at the beginning of this work, I have explained elsewhere[59]  how you should behave when the devil thus
disturbs you. I also told you that the habit of recollection is not to be
gained by force of arms, but with calmness, which will enable you to practise
it for a longer space of time.[60]
I will say no more now, except that I think it very helpful for those of you
who are beginners to consult persons experienced in such matters, lest you
imagine that you are injuring yourselves by leaving your prayer to perform any
necessary duties. This is not the case; our Lord will direct such things to our
profit, although we may have no one to counsel us.[61]  The
only remedy for having given up a habit of recollection is to recommence it,
otherwise the soul will continue to lose it more and more every day, and God
grant it may realize its danger.

19.
You may think, that if it is so very injurious to desist, it would have been
better never to have begun, and to have remained outside the castle. But, as I
began by saying, and as God Himself declares: ‘He that loves danger shall
perish by it,’(Ecclus. iii. 27): ‘Qui amat periculum, in illo peribit.’  and the door by which we must enter this
castle is prayer. Remember, we must
get to heaven, and it would be madness to think we could do so without
sometimes retiring into our souls so as to know ourselves, or thinking of our
failings and of what we owe to God, or frequently imploring His mercy. Our Lord
also says, ‘No man cometh to the Father but by Me’(St. John xiv. 6): ‘Nemo venit
ad Patrem, nisi per Me.’  (I am not sure whether this quotation is
correct, but I think so), and, ‘He that seeth Me seeth the Father also.’(St. John xiv. 9). ‘Qui videt me, videt et Patrem.’

20.
If we never look up at Him and reflect on what we owe Him for having died for
us, I do not understand how we can know Him, or perform good
deeds in His service. What value is there in faith without works? and what are
they worth if they are not united to the merits of Jesus Christ, our only good?
What would incite us to love our Lord unless we thought of Him? May He give us
grace to understand how much we cost Him; that ‘the servant is not above his
lord’(St. Matt. x. 24): ‘Nec servus super dominum suum.’ ; that we must toil for
Him if we would enjoy His glory; and prayer is a necessity to prevent us from
constantly falling into temptation.(St. Matt. xxvi. 41): ‘Orate ut non intretis in tentationem.’

The Third Mansions

Chapter I.

TREATS
OF THE INSECURITY OF LIFE IN THIS EXILE, HOWEVER HIGH WE MAY BE RAISED, AND OF
HOW WE MUST ALWAYS WALK IN FEAR. CONTAINS SOME GOOD POINTS.

1. Souls in the Third Mansions. 2.
Insecurity of this life. 3. Our danger of falling from grace. 4. The Saint
bewails her past life. 5. Our Lady’s patronage. 6. Fear necessary even for
religious. 7. St. Teresa’s contrition. 8. Characteristics of those in the Third
Mansions. 9. The rich young man in the Gospel. 10. Reason of aridities in
prayer. 11. Humility. 12. Tepidity. 13. We must give all to God. 14. Our debt.
15. Consolations and aridities.

1.
As for those who, by the mercy of God, have vanquished in these combats and persevered
until they reached the third mansions, what can we say to them but ‘Blessed is
the man that feareth the Lord’?[62]  It
is no small favour from God that I should be able to translate this verse into
Spanish so as to explain its meaning, considering how dense I usually am in
such matters. We may well call these souls blessed, for, as far as we can tell,
unless they turn back in their course they are on the safe road to salvation.
Now, my sisters, you see how important it is for them to conquer in their
former struggles, for I am convinced that our Lord will henceforth
never cease to keep them in security of conscience, which is no small boon.

2.
I am wrong in saying ‘security,’ for there is no security in this life;
understand that in such cases I always imply: ‘If they do not cease to continue
as they have begun.’ What misery to live in this world! We are like men whose
enemies are at the door, who must not lay aside their arms, even while sleeping
or eating, and are always in dread lest the foe should enter the fortress by
some breach in the walls. O my Lord and my all! How canst Thou wish us to prize
such a wretched existence? We could not desist from longing and begging Thee to
take us from it, were it not for the hope of losing it for Thy sake or devoting
it entirely to Thy service—and above all because we know it is Thy will that
we should live. Since it is so, ‘Let us die with Thee!’(St. John xi. 16): ‘Eamus et
nos ut moriamur cum eo.’  as St. Thomas said, for to be away from Thee
is but to die again and again, haunted as we are by the dread of losing Thee
for ever!

3.
This is why I say, daughters, that we ought to ask our Lord as our boon to
grant us one day to dwell in safety with the Saints, for with such fears, what
pleasure can she enjoy whose only pleasure is to please God? Remember, many
Saints have felt this as we do, and were even far more fervent, yet fell into
grave sin, and we cannot be sure that God would stretch forth His hand to raise
us from sin again to do such penance as they performed. This applies to
extraordinary grace.[63]  Truly, my daughters,
I feel such terror as I tell you this, that I know not how to write it, nor
even how to go on living, when I reflect upon it as I very often do. Beg of His
Majesty, my daughters, to abide within me, for otherwise, what security could I
feel, after a life so badly spent as mine has been?

4.
Do not grieve at knowing this. I have often seen you troubled when I spoke
about it, for you wish that my past had been a very holy one, in which you are
right—indeed, I wish the same myself. But what can be done, now that I have
wasted it entirely through my own fault? I have no right to complain that God
withheld the aid I needed to fulfil your wishes. It is impossible for me to
write this without tears and great shame, when I see that I am explaining these
matters to those capable of teaching me. What a hard task has obedience laid,
upon me! God grant that, as I do it for Him, it may be of some service to you;
therefore beg Him to pardon me for my miserable presumption.

5.
His Majesty knows that I have nothing to rely upon but His mercy; as I cannot
cancel the past, I have no other remedy but to flee to Him, and to confide in
the merits of His Son and of His Virgin Mother, whose habit, unworthy as I am,
I wear as you do also. Praise Him, then, my daughters, for making you truly
daughters of our Lady, so that you need not blush for my wickedness as you have
such a good Mother. Imitate her; think how great she must be and what a
blessing it is for you to have her for a patroness, since my sins and evil character
have brought no tarnish on the lustre of our holy Order.

6.
Still I must give you one warning: be not too confident because you are nuns
and the daughters of such a Mother. David was very holy, yet you know what
Solomon became.[64]  Therefore do not rely on your enclosure, on
your penitential life, nor on your continual exercise of prayer and constant
communion with God, nor trust in having left the world or in the idea that you
hold its ways in horror. All this is good, but is not enough, as I have already
said, to remove all fear; therefore meditate on this text and often recall it:
’Blessed is the man that feareth the Lord.’(Ps. cxi. 1).

7.
I do not recollect what I was saying, and have digressed very much: for when I
think of myself my mind cannot soar to higher things but is like a bird with
broken wings; so I will leave this subject for the present.

8.
To return to what I began to explain about the souls which have entered the
third mansions. God has shown them no small favour, but a very great one, in
enabling them to pass through the first difficulties. Thanks to His mercy I
believe there are many such people in the world: they are very desirous not to
offend His Majesty even by venial sins, they love penance and spend hours in
meditation, they employ their time well, exercise themselves in works of
charity to their neighbours, are well-ordered in their conversation and dress, and
those who own a household govern it well. This is certainly to be desired, and
there appears no reason to forbid their entrance to the last mansions; nor will
our Lord deny it them if they desire it, for this is the right disposition for
receiving all His favours.

9.
O Jesus! can any one declare that he does not desire this great blessing,
especially after he has passed through the chief difficulties? No; no one can!
We all say we desire it, but there is need of more than that for the Lord to
possess entire dominion over the soul. It is not enough to say so, any more
than it was enough for the young man when our Lord told him what he must do if
he desired to be perfect.(Matt. xix. 21).  Since I began to speak of these
dwelling-rooms I have him constantly before my mind, for we are exactly like
him; this very frequently produces the great dryness we feel in prayer, though
sometimes it proceeds from other causes as well. I am not speaking of certain
interior sufferings which give intolerable pain to many devout souls through no
fault of their own; from these trials, however, our Lord always delivers them
with much profit to themselves. I also except people who suffer from melancholy
and other infirmities. But in these cases, as in all others, we must leave
aside the judgments of God.

10.
I hold that these effects usually result from the first cause I mentioned; such
souls know that nothing would induce them to commit a sin (many of them would
not even commit a venial sin advertently),
and that they employ their life and riches well. They cannot, therefore,
patiently endure to be excluded from the presence of our King, Whose vassals
they consider themselves, as indeed they are. An earthly king may have many
subjects yet all do not enter his court. Enter then, enter, my daughters, into
your interior; pass beyond the thought of your own petty works, which are no
more, nor even as much, as Christians are bound to perform: let it suffice that
you are God’s servants, do not pursue so much as to catch nothing.[65]  Think of the saints, who have entered the
Divine Presence, and you will see the difference between them and ourselves.

11.
Do not ask for what you do not deserve, nor should we ever think, however much
we may have done for God, that we merit the reward of the saints, for we have
offended Him. Oh, humility, humility! I know not why, but I am always tempted
to think that persons who complain so much of aridities must be a little
wanting in this virtue. However, I am not speaking of severe interior
sufferings, which are far worse than a want of devotion.

12.
Let us try ourselves, my sisters, or let our Lord try us; He knows well how to
do so (although we often pretend to misunderstand Him). We will now speak of
these well-ordered souls. Let us consider what they do for God and we shall see
at once what little right we have to murmur against His Majesty. If we turn our
backs on Him and go away sorrowfully like the youth in the Gospel(St. Mark. x. 22). Way of Perf. ch. xvii. 5. when
He tells us what to do to be perfect, what can God do? for He must proportion
the reward to our love for Him. This love, my daughters, must not be the fabric
of our imagination; we must prove it by our works. Yet do not suppose that our
Lord has need of any works of ours; He only expels us to manifest our goodwill.[66]

13.
It seems to us we have done everything by taking the religious habit of our own
will, and renouncing worldly things and all our possessions for God (although
they may have been but the nets of St. Peter,(St. Matt. iv. 20): ‘Relictis
retibus secuti sunt eum.’  yet they seemed much to us, for they were our
all). This is an excellent disposition: if we continue in it and do not return,
even in desire, to the company of the reptiles of the first rooms, doubtless,
by persevering in this poverty and detachment of soul, we shall obtain all for
which we strive. But, mark this—it must be on one condition—that we ‘hold
ourselves for unprofitable servants,’(St. Luke xvii. 10): ‘Servi inutiles sumus:
quod debuimus facere fecimus.’  as we are told either by St. Paul or by
Christ, and that we do not consider that our Lord is bound to grant us any
favours, but that, as we have received more from Him, we are the deeper in His
debt.

14.
How little is all we can do for so generous a God, Who died for us, Who created
us, Who gives us being, that we should not think ourselves happy to be able to
acquit ourselves of part of the debt we owe Him for having served us, without
asking Him for fresh mercies and favours? I am loath to use
this expression, yet so it is, for He did nothing else during the whole time He
lived in this world but serve us.

15.
Think well my daughters, over some of the points I have treated, although
confusedly, for I do not know how to explain them better. Our Lord will make
you understand them, that you may reap humility from your dryness, instead of
the disquietude the devil strives to cause by it. I believe that where true
humility exists, although God should never bestow consolations, yet He gives a
peace and resignation which make the soul happier than are others with sensible
devotion. These consolations, as you have read, are often given by the Divine
Majesty to the weakest souls who, I suppose would not exchange them for the
fortitude of Christians serving God in aridities: we love consolations better
than the cross! Do Thou, O Lord, Who knowest all truth, so prove us that we may
know ourselves.

The Third Mansions

Chapter II.

CONTINUES
THE SAME SUBJECT AND SPEAKS OF ARIDITIES IN PRAYER AND THEIR RESULTS: OF THE NECESSITY
OF TRYING OURSELVES AND HOW OUR LORD PROVES THOSE WHO ARE IN THESE MANSIONS.

1. Imperfections of dwellers in the first
three mansions. 2. Our trials show us our weakness. 3. Humility learnt by our
faults. 4. Love of money. 5. Liberty of spirit. 6. On bearing contempt. 7.
Detachment proved by trials. 8. Virtue and humility are the essentials. 9.
Perfection requires detachment. 10. We should try to make rapid progress. 11.
Leave our cares in God’s hands. 12. Humility more necessary than corporal penances.
13. Consolations rarely received until the fourth mansions. 14. Advantages of
hearing of them. 15. Perfection consists in love, not in reward. 16. St.
Teresa’s joy at seeing other souls favoured. 17. These graces should be striven
for. 18. Obedience and direction, 19. Misguided zeal for others.

1.
I HAVE known some, in fact, I may say numerous souls, who have reached this
state, and for many years lived, apparently, a regular and well-ordered life,
both of body and mind. It would seem that they must have gained the mastery
over this world, or at least be extremely detached from it, yet if His Majesty
sends very moderate trials they become so disturbed and disheartened as not
only to astonish but to make me anxious about them. Advice is useless; having practised
virtue for so long they think
themselves capable of teaching it, and believe that they have abundant reason
to feel miserable.

2.
The only way to help them is to compassionate their troubles;[67]  indeed, one cannot but feel sorry at seeing
people in such an unhappy state. They must not be argued with, for they are
convinced they suffer only for God’s sake, and cannot be made to understand
they are acting imperfectly, which is a further error in persons so far
advanced. No wonder that they should feel these trials for a time, but I think
they ought speedily to overcome their concern about such matters. God, wishing
His elect to realize their own misery, often temporarily withdraws His favours:
no more is needed to prove to us in a very short time what we really are.[68]

3.
Souls soon learn in this way; they perceive their faults very clearly, and
sometimes the discovery of how quickly they are overcome by but slight earthly
trials is more painful than the subtraction of God’s sensible favours. I
consider that God thus shows them great mercy, for though their behaviour may
be faulty, yet they gain greatly in humility. Not so with the people of whom I
first spoke; they believe their conduct is saintly, and wish others to agree
with them. I will give you some examples which will help us to understand and
to try ourselves, without waiting for God to try us, since it would be far
better to have prepared and examined ourselves beforehand.

4.
A rich man, without son or heir, loses part of his
property,[69]  but still has more than enough to keep
himself and his household. If this misfortune grieves and disquiets him as
though he were left to beg his bread, how can our Lord ask him to give up all
things for His sake? This man will tell you he regrets losing his money because
he wished to bestow it on the poor.

5.
I believe His Majesty would prefer me to conform to His will, and keep peace of
soul while attending to my interests, to such charity as this. If this person
cannot resign himself because God has not raised him so high in virtue, well
and good: let him know that he is wanting in liberty of spirit; let him beg our
Lord to grant it him, and be rightly disposed to receive it. Another person has
more than sufficient means to live on, when an opportunity occurs for acquiring
more property: if it is offered him, by all means let him accept it; but if he
must go out of his way to obtain it and then continues working to gain more and
more—however good his intention may be (and it must be good, for I am speaking
of people who lead prayerful and good lives), he cannot possibly enter the
mansions near the King.

6.
Something of the same sort happens if such people meet with contempt or want of
due respect. God often gives them grace to bear it well, as He loves to see
virtue upheld in public, and will not have it condemned in those who practise
it, or else because these persons have served Him faithfully, and He, our
supreme Good, is exceedingly good to us all; nevertheless, these persons are
disturbed, and cannot
overcome or get rid of the feeling for some time.[70]  Alas! have they not long meditated on the
pains our Lord endured and how well it is for us to suffer, and have even
longed to do so? They wish every one were as virtuous as they are; and God
grant they do not consider other people to blame for their troubles and
attribute merit to themselves!

7.
You may think, my daughters, that I have wandered from the subject, for all
this does not concern you: nothing of the sort occurs to us here, where we
neither own nor wish for any property, nor endeavour to gain it, and no one
does us any wrong. The instances I have mentioned do not coincide exactly, yet
conclusions applicable to us may be drawn from them, which it would be neither
well nor necessary to state. These will teach you whether you are really
detached from all you have left; trifling occasions often occur, although
perhaps not quite of the same kind, by which you can prove to yourselves
whether you have obtained the mastery over your passions.

8.
Believe me, the question is not whether we wear the religious habit or not, but
whether we practise the virtues and submit our will in all things to the will
of God. The object of our life must be to do what He requires of us: let us not
ask that our will may be done, but His. If we have not yet attained to
this, let us be humble, as I said above. Humility is the ointment for our
wounds; if we have it, although perhaps He may defer His coming for a time,
God, Who is our Physician, will come and heal us. 9.
The penances performed by the persons I spoke of are as well regulated as their
life, which they value very highly because they wish to serve our Lord with
it—in which there is nothing to blame—so they are very discreet in their
mortifications lest they should injure their health. Never fear they will kill
themselves: they are far too sensible! Their love is not strong enough to
overcome their reason; I wish it were—that they might not be content to creep
on their way to God: a pace that will never bring them to their journey’s end!

10.
We seem to ourselves to be making progress, yet we become weary, for, believe
me, we are walking through a mist; it will be fortunate if we do not lose
ourselves. Do you think, my daughters, if we could travel from one country to
another in eight days, that it would be well to spend a year on the journey,
through wind, snow, and inundations and over bad roads?[71]  Would it not be better to get it over at
once, for it is full of dangers and serpents? Oh, how many striking instances
could I give you of this! God grant that I have passed beyond this state
myself: often I think that I have not.

11.
All things obstruct us while prudence rules our actions; we are afraid of
everything and therefore fear to make progress—as if we could reach the inner
chambers while others make the journey for us! As this is impossible, sisters,
for the love of God let us exert ourselves, and leave our reason and our
fears in His hands, paying no attention to the weaknesses of nature which might
retard us. Let our Superiors, to whom the charge belongs, look after our
bodies; let our only care be to hasten to our Lord’s presence—for though there
are few or no indulgences to be obtained here, yet, regard for health might
mislead us and it would be none the better for our care, as I know well.

12.
I know, too, that our bodies are not the chief factors in the work we have
before us; they are accessory: extreme humility is the principal point. It is
the want of this, I believe, that stops people’s progress. It may seem that we
have made but little way: we should believe that is the case, and that our
sisters are advancing much more rapidly than we are. Not only should we wish
others to consider us the worst of all; we should endeavour to make them think
so. If we act in this manner, our soul will do well; otherwise we shall make no
progress and shall always remain the prey to a thousand troubles and miseries.
The way will be difficult and wearisome without self-renunciation, weighed down
as we are by the burden and frailties of human nature, which are no longer felt
in the more interior mansions.

13.
In these third mansions the Lord never fails to repay our services, both as a
just and even as a merciful God, Who always bestows on us far more than we
deserve, giving us greater happiness than could be obtained from any earthly
pleasures and amusements. I think He grants few consolations here, except,
perhaps, occasionally to entice us to prepare
ourselves to enter the last mansions by showing us their contents. There may appear to you to be no difference except
in name between sensible devotion, and consolations and you may ask why I
distinguish them. I think there is a
very great difference, but I may be mistaken.

14.
This will be best explained while writing of the fourth mansion, which comes
next, when I must speak of the consolations received there from our Lord. The
subject may appear futile, yet may prove useful by urging souls who know what
each mansion contains to strive to enter the best. It will solace those whom
God has advanced so far; others, who thought they had reached the summit, will
be abashed, yet if they are humble they will be led to thank God.

15.
Those who do not receive these consolations may feel a despondency that is
uncalled for, since perfection does not consist in consolation but in greater
love; our reward will be in proportion to this, and to the justice and
sincerity of our actions. Perhaps you wonder, then, why I treat of these
interior favours and their nature. I do not know; ask him who bade me write
this. I must obey Superiors, not argue with them, which I have no right to do.

16.
I assure you that when I had neither received these favours,[72]  nor understood them by experience, or ever
expected to (and rightly so, for I should have felt reassured if I had known or
even conjectured that I was pleasing to God in any way), yet
when I read of the mercies and consolations that our Lord grants to His
servants, I was delighted and praised Him fervently. If such as myself acted
thus, how much more would the humble and good glorify Him! I think it is worth
while to explain these subjects and show what consolations and delights we lose
through our own fault, if only for the sake of moving a single soul to praise
God once.

17.
When these joys are from God they come laden with love and strength, which aid
the soul on its way and increase its good works and virtues. Do not imagine
that it is unimportant whether you try to obtain these graces or no; if you are
not to blame, the Lord is just: what He refuses in one way, His Majesty will
give you in another, as He knows how; His secret ways are very mysterious, and
doubtless He will do what is best for you.

18.
Souls who by God’s mercy are brought so far (which, as I said, is no small
mercy, for they are likely to ascend still higher) will be greatly benefited by
practising prompt obedience. Even if they are not in the religious state, it
would be well if they, like certain other people, were to take a director,[73]  so as never to follow their own will, which
is the cause of most of our ills. They should not choose one of their own turn
of mind[74]  (as the saying goes), who is over prudent in
his actions, but should select one thoroughly detached from worldly things; it
is very helpful to consult a person who has learnt and can teach this. It is
encouraging to see that trials which seemed to us impossible to submit
to are possible to others, and that they bear them sweetly. Their flight makes
us try to soar, like nestlings taught by the elder birds, who, though they
cannot fly far at first, little by little imitate their parents: I know the
great benefit of this. However determined such persons may be not to offend our
Lord, they must not expose themselves to temptation: they are still near the
first mansions to which they might easily return. Their strength is not yet
established on a solid foundation like that of souls exercised in sufferings,
who know how little cause there is to fear the tempests of this world and care
nothing for its pleasures: beginners might succumb before any severe trial.
Some great persecution, such as the devil knows how to raise to injure us,
might make beginners turn back; while zealously trying to withdraw others from
sin they might succumb to the attacks made upon them.

19.
Let us look at our own faults, and not at other persons’. People who are
extremely correct themselves are often shocked at everything they see[75] ; however,
we might often learn a great deal that is essential from the very persons whom
we censure. Our exterior comportment and manners may be better—this is well
enough, but not of the first importance. We ought not to insist on every one
following in our footsteps, nor to take upon ourselves to give instructions in
spirituality when, perhaps, we do not even know what it is. Zeal for the good
of souls, though given us by God, may often
lead us astray, sisters; it is best to keep our rule, which bids us ever to
live in silence and in hope.(Isa. xxx. 15): ‘In silentio et in spe erit fortitudo vestra.’ Rule § 13.  Our Lord will care for the souls belonging to
Him; and if we beg His Majesty to do so, by His grace we shall be able to aid
them greatly. May He be for ever blessed!

The Fourth Mansions

Chapter I.

HOW
SWEETNESS AND TENDERNESS IN PRAYER DIFFER FROM CONSOLATIONS. EXPLAINS HOW
ADVANTAGEOUS IT WAS FOR ST. TERESA TO COMPREHEND THAT THE IMAGINATION AND THE
UNDERSTANDING ARE NOT THE SAME THING. THIS CHAPTER IS USEFUL FOR THOSE WHOSE
THOUGHTS WANDER MUCH DURING PRAYER.

1. Graces received in this mansion. 2.
Mystic favours. 3. Temptations bring humility and merit. 4. Sensible devotion
and natural joys. 5. Sweetness in devotion. 6. St. Teresa’s experience of it.
7. Love of God, and how to foster it. 8. Distractions. 9. They do not destroy
divine union. 10. St. Teresa’s physical distractions. 11. How to treat
distractions. 12. They should be disregarded. 13. Self-knowledge necessary.

1.
Now that I commence writing about the fourth mansions, it is requisite, as I
said,[76]  to commend myself to the Holy Ghost and to
beg Him henceforth to speak for me, that I may be enabled to treat these
matters intelligibly. Henceforth they begin to be supernatural and it will be
most difficult to speak clearly about them,[77]  unless His Majesty undertakes
it for me, as He did when I explained the subject (as far as I understood it)
somewhat about fourteen years ago.[78]  I believe I now possess more light about the
favours God grants some souls, but that is different from being able to
elucidate them.[79]  May His Majesty enable me to do so if it
would be useful, but not otherwise.

2.
As these mansions are nearer the King’s dwelling they are very beautiful, and
so subtle are the things seen and heard in them, that, as those tell us who
have tried to do so, the mind cannot give a lucid idea of them to those
inexperienced in the matter. People who have enjoyed these favours, especially
if it was to any great extent, will easily comprehend me.

3.
Apparently a person must have dwelt for a long time in the former mansions
before entering these; although in ordinary cases the soul must have been in
the last one spoken of, yet, as you must often have heard, there is no fixed
rule, for God gives when, how,
and to whom He wills[80]—the
goods are His own, and His choice wrongs no one.S. (Matt. xx. 15): ‘Aut non
licet mihi quod volo facere?’  The poisonous reptiles rarely come into these
rooms, and, if they enter, do more good than harm. I think it is far better for
them to get in and make war on the soul in this state of prayer; were it not
tempted, the devil might sometimes deceive it about divine consolations, thus
injuring it far more. Besides, the soul would benefit less, because all
occasions of gaining merit would be withdrawn, were it left continually
absorbed in God. I am not confident that this absorption is genuine when it
always remains in the same state, nor does it appear to me possible for the
Holy Ghost to dwell constantly within us, to the same extent, during our
earthly exile.

4.
I will now describe, as I promised, the difference between sweetness in prayer
and spiritual consolations. It appears to me that what we acquire for ourselves
in meditation and petitions to our Lord may be termed ‘sweetness in devotion.’[81]  It is natural, although ultimately aided by
the grace of God. I must be understood to imply this in all I say, for we can
do nothing without Him. This sweetness
arises principally from the good work we perform, and appears to result from
our labours: well may we feel happy at having thus spent our time. We shall
find, on consideration, that many temporal matters give us the same
pleasure—such as unexpectedly coming into a large fortune, suddenly meeting
with a dearly-loved friend, or succeeding in any important or influential
affair which makes a sensation in the world. Again, it would be felt by one who
had been told her husband, brother, or son was dead, and who saw him return to
her alive. I have seen people weep from such happiness, as I have done myself.
I consider both these joys and those we feel in religious matters to be natural
ones. Although there is nothing wrong about the former, yet those produced by
devotion spring from a more noble source—in short, they begin in ourselves and
end in God. Spiritual consolations, on the contrary, arise from God, and our
nature feels them and rejoices as keenly in them, and indeed far more keenly,
than in the others I described.

5.
O Jesus! how I wish I could elucidate this point! It seems to me that I can
perfectly distinguish the difference between the two joys, yet I have not the
skill to make myself understood; may God give it me! I remember a verse we say
at Prime at the end of the final Psalm; the last words are: ‘Cum dilatasti cor
meum’—‘When Thou didst dilate my heart:(Ps. cxviii. 32). Way of Perf. ch. xxviii. 11.  To
those with much experience, this suffices to show the difference between
sweetness in prayer and spiritual consolations; other people will require
more explanation. The sensible devotion I mentioned does not dilate the heart,
but generally appears to narrow it slightly; although joyful at seeing herself
work for God, yet such a person sheds tears of sorrow which seem partly
produced by the passions. I know little about the passions of the soul, or I
could write of them more clearly and could better define what comes from the
sensitive disposition and what is natural, having passed through this state
myself, but I am very stupid. Knowledge and learning are a great advantage to
every one.

6.
My own experience of this delight and sweetness in meditation was that when I
began to weep over the Passion I could not stop until I had a severe headache;[82]  the same thing occurred when I grieved over
my sins: this was a great grace from our Lord. I do not intend to inquire now
which of these states of prayer is the better, but I wish I knew how to explain
the difference between the two. In that of which I speak, the tears and good
desires are often partly caused by the natural disposition, but although this
may be the case, yet, as I said, these feelings terminate in God. Sensible
devotion is very desirable if the soul is humble enough to understand that it
is not more holy on account of these sentiments, which cannot always with
certainty be ascribed to charity, and even then are still the gift of God.

7.
These feelings of devotion are most common with souls in the first three
mansions, who are nearly always using their understanding and reason in
making meditations. This is good for them, for they have not been given grace
for more; they should, however, try occasionally to elicit some acts such as
praising God, rejoicing in His goodness and that He is what He is: let them
desire that He may be honoured and glorified. They must do this as best they
can, for it greatly inflames the will. Let them be very careful, when God gives
these sentiments, not to set them aside in order to finish their accustomed
meditation. But, having spoken fully on this subject elsewhere,[83]  I will say no more now. I only wish to warn
you that to make rapid progress and to reach the mansions we wish to enter, it
is not so essential to think much as
to love much: therefore you must
practise whatever most excites you to this. Perhaps we do not know what love
is, nor does this greatly surprise me. Love does not consist in great sweetness
of devotion, but in a fervent determination to strive to please God in all
things, in avoiding, as far as possible, all that would offend Him, and in
praying for the increase of the glory and honour of His Son and for the growth
of the Catholic Church. These are the signs of love; do not imagine that it
consists in never thinking of anything but God, and that if your thoughts
wander a little all is lost.[84]

8.
I, myself, have sometimes been troubled by this turmoil of thoughts. I learnt
by experience, but little more than four years ago, that our thoughts, or it is
clearer to call it our imagination, are not the
same thing as the understanding. I questioned a theologian on the subject; he
told me it was the fact, which consoled me not a little. As the understanding
is one of the powers of the soul, it puzzled me to see it so sluggish at times,
while, as a rule, the imagination takes flight at once, so that God alone can
control it by so uniting us to Himself[85]  that we seem, in a manner, detached from our
bodies. It puzzled me to see that while to all appearance the powers of the
soul were occupied with God and recollected in Him, the imagination was
wandering elsewhere.

9.
Do Thou, O Lord, take into account all that we suffer in this way through our
ignorance. We err in thinking that we need only know that we must keep our
thoughts fixed on Thee. We do not understand that we should consult those
better instructed than ourselves, nor are we aware that there is anything for
us to learn. We pass through terrible trials, on account of not understanding
our own nature and take what is not merely harmless, but good, for a grave
fault. This causes the sufferings felt by many people, particularly by the
unlearned, who practise prayer. They complain of interior trials, become
melancholy, lose their health, and even give up prayer altogether for want of
recognizing that we have within ourselves as it were, an interior world. We
cannot stop the revolution of the heavens as they rush with velocity upon their
course, neither can we control our imagination. When this wanders we at once
imagine that all the powers of the soul follow it; we think everything is
lost, and that the time spent in God’s presence is wasted. Meanwhile, the soul
is perhaps entirely united to Him in the innermost mansions, while the
imagination is in the precincts of the castle, struggling with a thousand wild
and venomous creatures and gaining merit by its warfare. Therefore we need not
let ourselves be disturbed, nor give up prayer, as the devil is striving to
persuade us. As a rule, all our anxieties and troubles come from misunderstanding
our own nature.

10.
Whilst writing this I am thinking of the loud noise in my head which I
mentioned in the Introduction, and which has made it almost impossible to obey
the command given me to write this. It sounds as if there were a number of rushing
waterfalls within my brain, while in other parts, drowned by the sound of the
waters, are the voices of birds singing and whistling. This tumult is not in my
ears, but in the upper part of my head, where, they say, is placed the superior
part of the soul. I have long thought that this must be so because the flight
of the spirit seems to take place from this part with great velocity.[86]  Please God I may recollect to explain the
cause when writing of the latter mansions, this not being the proper place for
it. It may be that God has sent this suffering in my head to help me to
understand the matter, for all this tumult in my brain does not interfere with
my prayer, nor with my speaking to you, but the great calm and love and desires
in my soul remain undisturbed and my mind is clear.

11.
How, then, can the superior part of the soul remain
undisturbed if it resides in the upper part of the brain? I cannot account for
it, but am sure that I am speaking the truth. This noise disturbs my prayer
when unaccompanied with ecstasy, but when it is ecstatic I do not feel any
pain, however great. I should suffer keenly were I forced to cease praying on
account of these infirmities. We should not be distressed by reason of our
thoughts, nor allow ourselves to be worried by them: if they come from the
devil, he will let us alone if we take no notice of them; and if they are, as
often happens, one of the many frailties entailed by Adam’s sin, let us be patient
and suffer them for the love of God. Likewise, since we must eat and sleep
without being able to avoid it, much to our grief, let us acknowledge that we
are human, and long to be where no one may despise us.[87]  Sometimes I recall these words, spoken by the
Spouse in the Canticle;According
to Fr. Gracian the Saint here refers to (Cant. viii. 1): ‘Et jam me nemo
despiciat.’  truly never in our lives have we better
reason to say them, for I think no earthly scorn or suffering can try us so
severely as these struggles within our souls. All uneasiness or conflict can be
borne while we have peace in ourselves, as I said; but if, while seeking for
rest amidst the thousand trials of the world—knowing that God has prepared
this rest for us—the obstacle is found in ourselves, the trial must prove painful and almost insufferable.

12.
Take us therefore, O Lord, to where these miseries can no longer cause us to be
despised, for sometimes
it seems as if they mocked our souls. Even in this life God delivers us from
them when we reach the last mansion, as by His grace I will show you. Everybody
is not so violently distressed and assaulted by these weaknesses as I have been
for many years,[88]  on account of my wickedness, so that it seems
as if I strove to take vengeance on myself.[89]
Since I suffer so much in this way, perhaps you may do the same, so I
shall continue to explain the subject to you in different ways, in order to
find some means of making it clear. The thing is inevitable, therefore do not
let it disturb or grieve you, but let the mill clack on while we grind our
wheat; that is, let us continue to work with our will and intellect.

13.
These troubles annoy us more or less according to the state of our health or in
different circumstances. The poor soul suffers; although not now to blame, it
has sinned at other times, and must be patient. We are so ignorant that what we
have read and been told has not sufficed to teach us to disregard wandering
thoughts, therefore I shall not be wasting time in instructing and consoling
you about these trials. However, this will help you but little until God
chooses to enlighten you, and additional measures are needed: His Majesty
wishes us to learn by ordinary means to understand ourselves and to recognize
the share taken in these troubles by our wandering imagination, our nature, and
the devil’s temptations, instead of laying all the blame on our souls.

The Fourth Mansions

Chapter II.

CONTINUES
THE SAME SUBJECT, EXPLAINING BY A COMPARISON IN WHAT DIVINE CONSOLATIONS
CONSIST: AND HOW WE OUGHT TO TRY TO PREPARE OURSELVES TO RECEIVE THEM, WITHOUT
ENDEAVOURING TO OBTAIN THEM.

1. Physical results of sensible devotion. 2.
Effects of divine consolations. 3. The two fountains. 4. They symbolize two
kinds of prayer. 5. Divine consolations shared by body and soul. 6. The incense
within the soul. 7. Graces received in this prayer. 8. Such favours not to be
sought after.

1.
GOD help me! how I have wandered from my subject! I forget what I was speaking
about, for my occupations and ill-health often force me to cease writing until
some more suitable time. The sense will be very disconnected; as my memory is
extremely bad and I have no time to read over what is written, even what I
really understand is expressed very vaguely, at least so I fear. I think I said
that spiritual consolations are occasionally connected with the passions. These
feelings of devotion produce fits of sobbing; I have even heard that sometimes
they cause a compression of the chest, and uncontrollable exterior motions
violent enough to cause bleeding at the nose and other painful effects.[90]

2.
I can say nothing about this, never having experienced anything of the kind
myself; but there appears some cause for comfort in it, because, as I said, all
ends in the desire to please God and to enjoy
His presence. What I call divine consolations, or have termed elsewhere the
’prayer of quiet,’ is a very different thing, as those will understand who, by
the mercy of God, have experienced them.

3.
To make the matter clearer, let us imagine we see two fountains with basins
which fill with water. I can find no simile more appropriate than water by
which to explain spiritual things, as I am very ignorant and have poor wits to
help me.[91]  Besides, I love this element so much that I
have studied it more attentively than other things. God, Who is so great, so
wise, has doubtless hidden secrets in all things He created, which we should
greatly benefit by knowing, as those say who understand such matters. Indeed, I
believe that in each smallest creature He has made, though it be but a tiny
ant, there are more wonders than can be comprehended. These two basins are
filled in different ways; the one with water from a distance flowing into it
through many pipes and waterworks, while the other basin is built near the
source of the spring itself and fills quite noiselessly. If the fountain is
plentiful, like the one we speak of, after the basin is full the water
overflows in a great stream which flows continually. No machinery is needed
here, nor does the water run through aqueducts.

4.
Such is the difference between the two kinds of prayer. The water running
through the aqueducts resembles sensible devotion, which is obtained by
meditation. We gain it by our thoughts, by meditating on created things, and by
the labour of our
minds; in short, it is the result of our endeavours, and so makes the commotion
I spoke of, while profiting the soul.[92]  The other fountain, like divine consolations,
receives the water from the source itself, which signifies God: as usual, when
His Majesty wills to bestow on us any supernatural favours, we experience the
greatest peace, calm, and sweetness in the inmost depths of our being; I know
neither where nor how.

5.
This joy is not, like earthly happiness, at once felt by the heart; after
gradually filling it to the brim, the delight overflows throughout all the
mansions and faculties, until at last it reaches the body. Therefore, I say it
arises from God and ends in ourselves, for whoever experiences it will find
that the whole physical part of our nature shares in this delight and
sweetness. While writing this I have been thinking that the verse ‘Dilatasti
cor meum,’ ‘Thou hast dilated my heart,’(Ps. cxviii. 32). Life, ch. xvii. 14,  declares that the heart is dilated. This joy
does not appear to me to originate in the heart, but in some more interior part
and, as it were, in the depths of our being. I think this must be the centre of
the soul, as I have since learnt and will explain later on. I discover secrets
within us which often fill me with astonishment: how many more must there be
unknown to me! O my Lord and my God! how stupendous is Thy grandeur! We are
like so many foolish peasant lads: we think we know something of Thee, yet it
must be comparatively nothing, for there are profound secrets even in ourselves
of which
we know naught. I say ‘comparatively nothing’ in proportion with all the
secrets hidden within Thee, yet how great are Thy mysteries that we are
acquainted with and can learn even by the study of such of Thy works as we see![93]

6.
To return to the verse I quoted, which may help to explain the dilation begun
by the celestial waters in the depths of our being. They appear to dilate and
enlarge us internally, and benefit us in an inexplicable manner, nor does even
the soul itself understand what it receives. It is conscious of what may be
described as a certain fragrance, as if within its inmost depths were a brazier
sprinkled with sweet perfumes. Although the spirit neither sees the flame nor
knows where it is, yet it is penetrated by the warmth, and scented fumes, which
are even sometimes perceived by the body. Understand me, the soul does not feel
any real heat or scent, but something far more subtle, which I use this
metaphor to explain. Let those who have never experienced it believe that it
really occurs to others: the soul is conscious of it and feels it more distinctly
than can be expressed. It is not a thing we can fancy or gain by anything we
can do; clearly it does not arise from the base coin of human nature, but from
the most pure gold of Divine Wisdom. I believe that in this case the powers of
the soul are not united to God, but are absorbed and astounded at the marvel
before them. I may possibly be contradicting what I wrote elsewhere;[94]  nor would this
be surprising, for it was done about fifteen years ago, and perhaps God has
given me since then a clearer insight into the matter. I may be entirely
mistaken on the subject, both then and now, but never do I wilfully say what is
untrue. No; by the mercy of God, I would rather die a thousand times than tell
a falsehood: I speak of the matter as I understand it. I believe that in this
case the will must in some way be united with that of God. The after effects on
the soul, and the subsequent behaviour of the person, show whether this prayer
was genuine or no: this is the best crucible by which to test it.

7.
Our Lord bestows a signal grace on the soul if it realizes how great is this
favour, and another greater still if it does not turn back on the right road.
You are longing, my daughters, to enter into this state of prayer at once, and
you are right, for, as I said, the soul cannot understand the value of the
graces there bestowed by God upon it, nor the love which draws Him ever closer
to it: we should certainly desire to learn how to obtain this favour. I will
tell you what I know about it, setting aside certain cases in which God bestows
these graces for no other reason than His own choice, into which we have no
right to enquire.

8.
Practise what I advised in the preceding mansions, then—humility, humility!
for God lets Himself be vanquished by this and grants us all we ask.[95] The first proof[96]  that you possess humility is that you neither
think you now deserve these graces and consolations from God, nor that you ever
will as long as you live. You ask me: ‘How shall we receive them, if we do not
try to gain them?’ I answer, that there is no surer way to obtain them than the
one I have told you, therefore make no efforts to acquire them, for the
following reasons. The first is, that the chief means of obtaining them is to
love God without self-interest. The second, that it is a slight lack of
humility to think that our wretched services can win so great a reward. The
third, that the real preparation for them is to desire to suffer and imitate
our Lord, rather than to receive consolations, for indeed we have all offended
Him. The fourth reason is, that His Majesty has not promised to give us these
favours in the same way as He has bound Himself to bestow eternal glory on us
if we keep His commandments. We can be saved without these special graces; He
sees better than we do what is best for us and which of us love Him sincerely.
I know for a certain truth, being acquainted with some who walk by the way of
love (and therefore only seek to serve Jesus Christ crucified), that not only
they neither ask for nor desire consolation, but they even beg Him not to give
it them during this life: this is a fact. Fifthly, we should but labour in
vain: this water does not flow through aqueducts, like that we first spoke of,
and if the spring does not afford it, in vain shall we toil to obtain it. I
mean, that though we may meditate and try our hardest, and though we shed tears
to gain it, we cannot make this water flow. God alone gives it to whom He
chooses, and often when the soul is least thinking of it. We are His, sisters,
let Him do what He will with us, and lead us where He will. If we are really
humble and annihilate ourselves, not only in our imagination (which often
deceives us), but if we truly detach ourselves from all things, our Lord will
not only grant us these favours but many others that we do not know even how to
desire. May He be for ever praised and blessed! Amen.

The Fourth Mansions

Chapter III.

OF
THE PRAYER OF RECOLLECTION WHICH GOD GENERALLY GIVES THE SOUL BEFORE GRANTING
IT THAT LAST DESCRIBED. ITS EFFECTS: ALSO THOSE OF THE PRAYER OF DIVINE
CONSOLATIONS DESCRIBED IN THE LAST CHAPTER.

1. The Prayer of recollection compared to
the inhabitants of the castle. 2. The Shepherd recalls His flock into the
castle. 3. This recollection supernatural. 4. It prepares us for higher
favours. 5. The mind must act until God calls it to recollection by love. 6.
The soul should here abandon itself into God’s hands. 7. The prayer of recollection,
and distractions in Prayer. 8. Liberty of spirit gained by consolations. 9. The
soul must be watchful. 10. The devil specially tempts such souls. 11. False
trances and raptures. 12. How to treat those deluded in this way. 13. Risks of
delusion in this mansion.

1.
THE effects of divine consolations are very numerous: before describing them, I
will speak of another kind of prayer which usually precedes them. I need not
say much on this subject, having written about it elsewhere.[97]  This
is a kind of recollection which, I believe, is supernatural. There is no
occasion to retire nor to shut the eyes, nor does it depend on anything
exterior; involuntarily the eyes suddenly close and solitude is found. Without
any labour of one’s own, the temple of which I spoke is reared for the soul in
which to pray: the senses and exterior surroundings appear to lose their hold,
while the spirit gradually regains its lost sovereignty. Some say the soul
enters into itself; others, that it rises above itself.[98]  I can say nothing about these terms, but had
better speak of the subject as I understand it. You will probably grasp my meaning,
although, perhaps, I may be the only person who understands it. Let us imagine
that the senses and powers of the soul (which I compared in my allegory to the
inhabitants of the castle) have fled and joined the enemy outside. After long
days and years of absence, perceiving how great has been their loss, they
return to the neighbourhood of the castle, but cannot manage to re-enter it,
for their evil habits are hard to break off; still, they are no longer
traitors, and they wander about outside.

2.
The King, Who holds His court within it, sees their good will, and out of His
great mercy desires them to return to Him. Like a good Shepherd, He plays so
sweetly on His pipe, that although scarcely hearing it they recognize His call
and no longer wander, but return, like lost sheep, to the mansions. So strong
is this Pastor’s power over His flock, that they abandon the worldly cares
which misled them and re-enter the castle.

3.
I think I never put this matter so clearly before. To seek God within ourselves
avails us far more than to look for Him amongst creatures; Saint Augustine
tells us how he found the Almighty within his own soul, after having long
sought for Him elsewhere.[99]  This recollection helps us greatly when
God bestows it upon us. But do not fancy you can gain it by thinking of God
dwelling within you, or by imagining Him as present in your soul: this is a
good practice and an excellent kind of meditation, for it is founded on the
fact that God resides within us;[100]  it is not, however, the prayer of
recollection, for by the divine assistance every one can practise it, but what
I mean is quite a different thing. Sometimes, before they have begun to think
of God, the powers of the soul find themselves within the castle. I know not by
what means they entered, nor how they heard the Shepherd’s pipe; the ears
perceived no sound but the soul is keenly conscious of a delicious sense of
recollection experienced by those who enjoy this favour, which I cannot
describe more clearly.

4.
I think I read somewhere[101]  that the soul is then
like a tortoise or sea-urchin, which retreats into itself.
Those who said this no doubt understood what they were talking about; but these
creatures can withdraw into themselves at will, while here it is not in our
power to retire into ourselves, unless God gives us the grace. In my opinion,
His Majesty only bestows this favour on those who have renounced the world, in desire at least, if their state of life
does not permit their doing so in fact.
He thus specially calls them to devote themselves to spiritual things; if they
allow Him power to at freely He will bestow still greater graces on those whom
He thus begins calling to a higher life. Those who enjoy this recollection
should thank God fervently: it is of the highest importance for them to realize
the value of this favour, gratitude for which would prepare them to receive
still more signal graces. Some books advise that as a preparation for hearing
what our Lord may say to us we should keep our minds at rest, waiting to see
what He will work in our souls.[102]  But unless His Majesty has begun to suspend
our faculties, I cannot understand how we are to stop thinking, without doing
ourselves more harm than good. This point has been much debated by those
learned in spiritual matters; I confess my want of humility in having been
unable to yield to their opinion.[103]

5.
Some one told me of a certain book written on the subject by the saintly Friar
Peter of Alcantara (as I think I may justly call him); I should have submitted
to his decision, knowing that he was competent to judge, but on reading it I
found he agreed
with me that the mind must act until called to recollection by love, although
he stated it in other words.[104]

Eighth
Counsel. Let the last and chiefest counsel be that in this holy exercise we
should endeavour to unite Meditation with Contemplation making of the one a
ladder for attaining to the other. For this we must know that (p. 118) the very
office of Meditation is to consider Divine things with studiousness and
attention passing from one to another, to move our hearts to some affection and
deep feeling for them, which is as though one should strike a flint to draw
from it the spark.

For
Contemplation is to have drawn forth this spark: I mean to have now found this
affection and feeling which were sought for, and to be in peace and silence
enjoying them; not with many discursive and intellectual speculations but with
simple gaze upon the truth.

Wherefore,
says a holy teacher, Meditation goes its way and brings forth fruit, with
labour, but Contemplation bears fruit without labour. The one seeketh, the
other findeth; the one consumeth the food, the other enjoys it; the one
discourseth, and maketh reflections, the other is contented with a simple gaze
upon the things, for it hath in possession their love and joy. Lastly, the one
is as the means, the other as the end; the one as the road and journeying along
it, the other as the end of the road and of the journeying.

From
this is to be inferred a very common thing, which all masters of the spiritual
life teach, although it is little (p. 119) understood of those who learn it;
which is this, that, as the means cease when the end has been attained, as the
voyaging is over when the port has been touched, so when, through the working
out of our Meditation, we have come to the repose and sweet savour of
Contemplation, we ought then to cease from that pious and laborious searching;
and being satisfied with the simple gaze upon, and thought of, God—as though
we had Him there present before us—we should rest in the enjoyment of that affection
then given, whether it be of love, or of admiration, or joy, or other like
sentiment.

The
reason why this counsel is given is this, that as the aim of this devotion is
love and the affections of the will rather than the speculations of the
understanding, when the will has been caught and taken by this affection, we
should put away all those discursive and intellectual speculations, so far as
we can, in order that our soul with all its forces may be fastened upon this
affection without being diverted by the action of other influences. A learned
teacher, therefore, counsels us that as soon as anyone feels himself fired by
the love of God, he should first put aside (p. 120.) all these considerations
and thoughts—however exalted they may seem—not because they are really not
good in themselves, but because they are then hindrances to what is better. and
more important. For this is nothing else than that, having come to the end and
purpose of our work, we should stay therein, and leave Meditation for the love
of Contemplation. This may especially be done at the end of any exercise, that
is, after the petition for the Divine love of which we have spoken, for one
reason, because then it is supposed that the labour of the exercise we have
just gone through has produced some divine devotion and feeling, since, saith
the wise man, ‘Better is the end of prayer than the beginning’: and for another
reason, that, after the work of Prayer and Meditation, it is well that one
should give his mind a little rest, and allow it to repose in the arms of
Contemplation. At this point, then, we should put away all other thoughts that
may present themselves, and, quieting the mind and stilling the memory, fix all
upon our Lord; and remembering that we are then in His presence, no longer
dwell upon the details of divine things.

And not only at the end
of the exercise but in the midst of it, and at whatever part of it, this
spiritual swoon should come upon us, when the intellect is laid to sleep, we
should make this pause, and enjoy the blessing bestowed; and then, when we have
finished the digestion of it, turn to the matter we have in hand, as the
gardener does, when he waters his garden-bed; who, after giving it (p. 122) a
sufficiency of water, holds back the stream, and lets it soak and spread itself
through the depths of the earth; and then when this hath somewhat dried up, he
turns down upon it again the flow of water that it may receive still more, and
be well irrigated.’  Possibly I may be mistaken, but I rely on
these reasons. Firstly, he who reasons less and tries to do least, does most in
spiritual matters. We should
make our petitions like beggars before a powerful and rich Emperor; then, with
downcast eyes, humbly wait. When He secretly shows us He hears our prayers, it
is well to be silent, as He has drawn us into His presence; there would then be
no harm in trying to keep our minds at rest (that is to say, if we can). If,
however, the King makes no sign of listening or of seeing us, there is no need
to stand inert, like a dolt, which the soul would resemble
if it continued inactive. In this case its dryness would greatly increase, and
the imagination would be made more restless than before by its very effort to
think of nothing. Our Lord wishes us at such a time to offer Him our petitions
and to place ourselves in His presence; He knows what is best for us.

6.
I believe that human efforts avail nothing in these matters, which His Majesty
appears to reserve to Himself, setting this limit to our powers. In many other
things, such as penances, good works, and prayers, with His aid we can help
ourselves as far as human weakness will allow. The second reason is, that these
interior operations being sweet and peaceful,[105]  any painful effort does us more harm than
good. By ‘painful effort’ I mean any forcible restraint we place on ourselves,
such as holding our breath.[106]  We should rather abandon our souls into the
hands of God, leaving Him to do as He chooses with us, as far as possible
forgetting all self-interest and resigning ourselves entirely to His will. The
third reason is, that the very effort to think of nothing excites our
imagination the more. The fourth is, because we render God the most true and
acceptable service by caring only for His honour and glory and forgetting
ourselves, our advantages, comfort and happiness. How can we be self-oblivious,
while keeping ourselves under such strict control that we are afraid to move,
or even to think, or to leave our minds enough liberty to desire God’s greater
glory and to rejoice in the glory
which He possesses? When His Majesty wishes the mind to rest from working He
employs it in another manner, giving it a light and knowledge far above any
obtainable by its own efforts and absorbing it entirely into Himself. Then,
though it knows not how, it is filled with wisdom such as it could never gain
for itself by striving to suspend the thoughts. God gave us faculties for our use;
each of them will receive its proper reward. Then do not let us try to charm
them to sleep, but permit them to do their work until divinely called to
something higher.[107]

7.
In my opinion, when God chooses to place the soul in this mansion it is best
for it to do as I advised, and then endeavour, without force or disturbance, to
keep free from wandering thoughts. No effort, however, should be made to
suspend the imagination entirely from arming, for it is well to remember God’s
presence and to consider Who He is. If transported out of itself by its
feelings, well and good; but let it not try to understand what is passing
within it, for this favour is bestowed on the will which should be left to
enjoy it in peace, only
making loving aspirations occasionally. Although, in this kind of prayer, the
soul makes no effort towards it, yet often, for a very short time, the mind
ceases to think at all. I explained elsewhere why this occurs during this
spiritual state.[108]  On first speaking of the fourth mansions, I
told you I had mentioned divine consolations before the prayer of recollection.
The latter should have come first, as it is far inferior to consolations, of
which it is the commencement. Recollection does not require us to give up
meditation, nor to cease using our intellect. In the prayer of quiet, when the
water flows from the spring itself and not through conduits, the mind ceases to
act; it is forced to do so, although it does not understand what is happening,
and so wanders hither and thither in bewilderment, finding no place for rest.
Meanwhile the will, entirely united to. God, is much disturbed by the tumult of
the thoughts: no notice, however, should be taken of them, or they would cause
the loss of a great part of the favour the soul is enjoying. Let the spirit
ignore these distractions and abandon itself in the arms of divine love: His
Majesty will teach it how best to act, which chiefly consists in its
recognizing its unworthiness of so great a good and occupying itself in
thanking Him for it.

8.
In order to treat of the prayer of recollection, I passed over in silence the
effects and symptoms to be found in souls thus favoured by God. Divine consolations
evidently cause a dilation or enlargement of the soul that may be compared to
water flowing
from a spring into a basin which has no outlet, but is so constructed as to
increase in size and proportion to the quantity poured into it. God seems to
work the same effect by this prayer, besides giving many other marvellous
graces, so preparing and disposing the soul to contain all He intends to give
it. After interior sweetness and dilation the soul is not so restrained as
formerly in God’s service, but possesses much more liberty of spirit. It is no
longer distressed by the terror of hell, for though more anxious than ever not
to offend God, it has lost servile fear and feels sure that one day it will
possess its Lord. It does not dread the loss of health by austerities;[109]  believing that there is nothing it could not
do by His grace, it is more desirous than before of doing penance. Greater
indifference is felt for sufferings because faith being stronger, it trusts
that if borne for God He will give the grace to endure them patiently. Indeed,
such a one at times even longs for trials, having a most ardent desire to do
something for His sake. As the soul better understands the Divine Majesty, it
realizes more vividly its own baseness. Divine consolation shows it how vile
are earthly pleasures; by gradually withdrawing from them, it gains greater
self-mastery. In short, its virtues are increased and it will not cease to
advance in perfection, unless it turns back and offends God. Should it act
thus, it would lose everything, however high the state it may have reached.

9.
It is not to be supposed that all these effects are produced merely by God’s
having shown these favours
once or twice. They must be received continually, for it is on their frequent
reception that the whole welfare of the soul depends. I strongly urge those who
have reached this state to avoid most carefully all occasions of offending God.[110]  The soul is not yet fully established in
virtue, but is like a new-born babe first feeding at its mother’s breast:[111]  if it leaves her, what can it do but die? I
greatly fear that when a soul to whom God has granted this favour discontinues
prayer, except under urgent necessity, it will, unless it returns to the
practice at once, go from bad to worse.

10.
I realize the danger of such a case, having had the grief of witnessing the fall
of persons I knew through their withdrawal from Him Who sought, with so much
love, to make Himself their friend, as He proved by His treatment of them. I
urgently warn such persons not to run the risk of sinning, for the devil would
rather gain one of these souls than many to whom our Lord does not grant such
graces,[112]  as the former may cause him severe loss by
leading others to follow their example, and may even render great service to
the Church of God. Were there no other reason except that he saw the special
love His Majesty bears these people, it would suffice to make Satan frantic to
destroy God’s work in them, so that they might be lost eternally. Therefore
they suffer grievous temptations, and if they fall, they fall lower than
others.

11. You, my sisters, are free from such dangers, as far as we can
tell: God keep
you from pride and vainglory! The devil sometimes offers counterfeits of the
graces I have mentioned: this can easily be detected—the effects being exactly
contrary to those of the genuine ones.[113]  Although I have spoken of it elsewhere,[114]  I wish to warn you here of a special danger
to which those who practise prayer are subject, particularly women, whose
weakness of constitution makes them more liable to such mistakes. On account of
their penances, prayers, and vigils, or even merely because of debility of
health, some persons cannot receive spiritual consolation without being
overcome by it. On feeling any interior joy, their bodies being languid and
weak, they fall into a slumber—they call it spiritual sleep—which is a more
advanced stage of what I have described; they think the soul shares in it as
well as the body, and abandon themselves to a sort of intoxication. The more
they lose self-control, the more do their feelings get possession of them,
because the frame becomes more feeble. They fancy this is a trance and call it
one, but I call it nonsense; it does nothing but waste their time and injure
their health.

12.
This state lasted with a certain person for eight hours, during which time she
was neither insensible, nor had she any thought of God.[115]  She was cured by being made to eat and sleep
well and to leave off some of her penances. Her recovery was
owing to some one who understood her case; hitherto she had unintentionally
deceived both her confessor and other people, as well as herself. I feel quite
sure the devil had been at work here to serve his own ends and he was beginning
to gain a great deal from it. It should be known that when God bestows such
favours on the soul, although there may be languor both of mind and body, it is
not shared by the soul, which feels great delight at seeing itself so near God,
nor does this state ever continue for more than a very short time.[116]  Although the soul may become absorbed again,
yet, as I said, unless already feeble, the body suffers neither exhaustion nor
pain. I advise any of you who experience the latter to tell the Prioress, and
to divert your thoughts as much as possible from such matters. The Superior
should prevent such a nun from spending more than a very few hours in prayer,
and should make her eat and sleep well until her usual strength is restored, if
she has lost it in this way.[117]  If the nun’s constitution is so delicate that
this does not suffice, let her believe me when I tell her that God only calls
her to the active life. There must be such people in monasteries: employ her in
the various offices and be careful that she is never left very long alone,
otherwise she will entirely lose her health. This treatment will be a great
mortification to her: our Lord tests her love for Him by the way in which she
bears His absence. He may be pleased, after a time, to restore her strength; if
not, she will make as much
progress, and earn as great a reward by vocal prayer and obedience as she would
have done by contemplation, and perhaps more.

13.
There are people, some of whom I have known, whose minds and imaginations are
so active as to fancy they see whatever they think about, which is very
dangerous.[118]  Perhaps I may treat of this later on, but
cannot do so now. I have dwelt at length on this mansion, as I believe it to be
the one most souls enter. As the natural is combined with the supernatural, the
devil can do more harm here than later on, when God does not leave him so many
opportunities. May God be for ever praised! Amen.

The Fifth Mansions

Chapter I.

BEGINS
TO TREAT OF THE UNION OF THE SOUL WITH GOD IN PRAYER. HOW TO BE SURE THAT WE
ARE NOT DECEIVED IN THIS MATTER.

1. Graces of the fifth mansions. 2.
Contemplation to be striven for. 3. Physical effects of the Prayer of union. 4.
Amazement of the intellect. 5. The Prayer of union and of quiet contrasted. 6.
Divine and earthly union. 7. Competent directors in these matters. 8. Proof of
union. 9. Assurance left in the soul. 10. Divine union beyond our Power to
obtain.

1.
OH, my sisters, how shall I describe the riches, treasures, and joys contained
in the fifth mansions! Would it not be better to say nothing about them? They
are impossible to depict, nor can the mind conceive, nor any comparisons
portray them, all earthly things being too vile to serve the purpose. Send me,
O my Lord, light from heaven that I may give some to these Thy servants, some
of whom by Thy good will often enjoy these delights, lest the devil in the
guise of an angel of light should deceive those whose only desire is to please
Thee.

2.
I said ‘some,’ but in reality there are very few[119]  who never enter this mansion: some more and
some less, but most of them may be said at least to
gain admittance into these rooms. I think that certain graces I am about to
describe are bestowed on only a few of the nuns, but if the rest only arrive at
the portal they receive a great boon from God, for ‘many are called, but few
are chosen.’(St. Matt. xx. 16): ‘Multi enim sunt vocati, pauci vero electi.’  All we who wear the holy habit of the
Carmelites are called to prayer and contemplation. This was the object of our
Order,[120]  to this lineage we belong. Our holy Fathers
of Mount Carmel sought in perfect solitude and utter contempt of the world for
this treasure, this precious pearl,[121]  of which we speak, and we are their
descendants. How little do most of us care to prepare our souls, that our Lord
may reveal this jewel to us! Outwardly we may appear to practise the requisite
virtues, but we have far more to do than this before it is possible to attain
to contemplation, to gain which we should neglect no means, either small or
great. Rouse yourselves, my sisters, and since some foretaste of heaven may be
had on earth, beg our Lord to give us grace not to miss it through our own
fault. Ask Him to show us where to find it—ask Him to give us strength of soul
to dig until we find this hidden treasure, which lies buried within our hearts,
as I wish to show you if it please God to enable me. I said ‘strength of soul,’ that you might understand that
strength of body is not indispensable
when our Lord God chooses to withhold it. He makes it impossible for no one to
gain these riches, but
is content that each should do his best. Blessed be so just a God!

3.
But, daughters, if you would purchase this treasure of which we are speaking,
God would have you keep back nothing from Him, little or great. He will have it
all;[122]  in proportion to what you know you have given
will your reward be great or small. There is no more certain sign whether or
not we have reached the prayer of union. Do not imagine that this state of
prayer is, like the one preceding it, a sort of drowsiness (I call it
’drowsiness’ because the soul seems to slumber, being neither quite asleep nor
wholly awake). In the prayer of union the soul is asleep, fast asleep, as
regards the world and itself: in fact, during the short time this state lasts
it is deprived of all feeling whatever, being unable to think on any subject,
even if it wished. No effort is needed here to suspend the thoughts: if the
soul can love it knows not how, nor whom it loves, nor what it desires. In
fact, it has died entirely to this world, to live more truly than ever in God.
This is a delicious death, for the soul is deprived of the faculties it
exercised while in the body:[123]  delicious because, (although not really the
case), it seems to have left its mortal covering to abide more entirely in God.
So completely does this take place, that I know not whether the body retains
sufficient life to continue breathing; on consideration,
I believe it does not; at any rate, if it still breathes, it does so
unconsciously.

4.
The mind entirely concentrates itself on trying to understand what is
happening, which is beyond its power; it is so astounded that, if consciousness
is not completely lost, at least no movement is possible: the person may be
compared to one who falls into a dead faint with dismay.[124]

5.
Oh, mighty secrets of God! Never should I weary of trying to explain them if I
thought it possible to succeed! I would write a thousand foolish things that
one might be to the point, if only it might make us praise God more. I said
this prayer produced no drowsiness in the mind; on the other hand, in the
prayer (of quiet) described in the last mansion, until the soul has gained much
experience it doubts what really happened to it. ‘Was it nothing but fancy, or
was it a sleep? Did it come from God or from the devil, disguised as an angel
of light?’ The mind feels a thousand misgivings, and well for it that it
should, because, at I said, nature may sometimes deceive us in this case.
Although there is little chance of the poisonous reptiles entering here, yet
agile little lizards will try to slip in, though they can do no harm,
especially if they remain unnoticed. These, as I said, are trivial fancies of
the imagination, which are often very troublesome. However active these small
lizards may be, they cannot enter the fifth mansion, for neither the
imagination, the understanding, nor the memory has power to hinder the graces
bestowed on it. 6.
I dare venture to assert that, if this is genuine union with God, the devil
cannot interfere nor do any harm, for His Majesty is so joined and united with
the essence of the soul, that the evil one dare not approach, nor can he even
understand this mystery. This is certain, for it is said that the devil does
not know our thoughts, much less can he penetrate a secret so profound that God
does not reveal it even to us.[125]  Oh, blessed state, in which this cursed one
cannot injure us! What riches we receive while God so works in us that neither
we ourselves nor any one else can impede Him! What will He not bestow, Who is
so eager to give, and Who can give us all He desires! You may perhaps have been
puzzled at my saying ‘if this is genuine union with God,’ as if there might be
other unions. There are indeed—not with God, but with vanities—when the devil
transports the soul passionately addicted to them, but the union differs from
that which is divine and the mind misses the delight and satisfaction, peace
and happiness of divine union. These heavenly consolations are above all
earthly joys, pleasure, and satisfaction. As great a difference exists between
their origin and that of worldly pleasures as between their opposite effects,
as you know by experience.

7.
I said somewhere[126]  that the one seems only to touch the surface
of the body, while the other penetrates to the very marrow: I believe this is
correct,
and I cannot express myself better. I fancy that you are not yet satisfied on
this question, but are afraid of deception, for spiritual matters are very hard
to explain. Enough, however, has been said for those who have received this
grace, as the difference between divine union and any other is very striking.
However, I will give you a clear proof which cannot mislead you, nor leave any
doubt whether the favour comes from God or no. His Majesty brought it back to
my memory this very day; it appears to me to be an unmistakable sign. In
difficult questions, although I think I understand them and am speaking the
truth, I always say ‘it appears to me’; for, in case my opinion is wrong, I am
most willing to submit to the judgment of theologians. Although they may not
have had personal experience in such matters, yet in some way I do not
understand, God Who sets them to give light to His Church enables them to
recognize the truth when it is put before them. If they are not thoughtless and
indevout, but servants of God, they are never dismayed at His mighty works,
knowing perfectly well that it is in His power to perform far greater wonders.
If some of the marvels told are new to them, yet they have read of others of
the same kind, showing the former to be possible. I have had great experience
as to this and have also met with timid, half-instructed people whose ignorance
has cost me very dear.[127]  I am convinced that those who refuse to
believe that God can do far more than this, and that He is pleased now, as in
the past, to communicate
Himself to His creatures, shut fast their hearts against receiving such favours
themselves. Do not imitate them, sisters: be convinced that it is possible for
God to perform still greater wonders. Do not concern yourselves as to whether
those who receive these graces are good or wicked; as I said, He knows best and
it is no business of yours: you should serve Him with a single heart and with
humility, and should praise Him for His works and wonders.[128]

8.
Let us now speak of the sign which proves the prayer of union to have been
genuine. As you have seen, God then deprives the soul of all its senses that He
may the better imprint in it true wisdom: it neither sees, hears, nor
understands anything while this state lasts, which is never more than a very
brief time;[129]  it appears to the soul to be much shorter
than it really is. God visits the soul in a manner which prevents its doubting,
on returning to itself, that it dwelt in Him and that He was within it, and so
firmly is it convinced of this truth that, although years may pass before this
favour recurs, the soul can never forget it nor doubt the fact,[130]  setting aside the effects left by this
prayer, to which I will refer later on. The conviction felt by the soul is the
main point.

9.
But, you may ask, how can a person who is incapable of sight and hearing see[131] or know
these things?
I do not say that she saw it at the time, but that she perceives it clearly
afterwards, not by any vision but by a certitude which remains in the heart
which God alone could give. I know of some one who was unaware of God’s being
in all things by presence, power and essence, yet was firmly convinced of it by
a divine favour of this sort.[132]
She asked an ill-instructed priest of the
kind I mentioned to tell her in what way God dwelt within us: he was as
ignorant on the subject as she had been before our Lord revealed to her the
truth, and answered that the Almighty was only present in us by grace.[133]  Yet so strong was her conviction
of the truth learnt during her prayer that she did not believe him and
questioned other spiritual persons on the subject, who confirmed her in the
true doctrine, much to her joy. Do not mistake and imagine that this certainty
of God’s having visited the soul concerns any corporal presence such as that of
our Lord Jesus Christ Who dwells in the Blessed Sacrament, although we do not
see Him: it relates solely to the Divinity. If we did not see it, how can we
feel so sure of it? That I do not know: it is the work of the Almighty and I am
certain that what I say is the fact. I maintain that a soul which does not feel
this assurance has not been united to God entirely, but only by one of its
powers, or has received one of the many other favours God is accustomed to
bestow on men. In all such matters we must not seek to know how things
happened: our understanding could not grasp them, therefore why trouble
ourselves on the subject? It is enough to know that it is He, the all-powerful
God, Who has performed the work. We can do nothing on our own part to gain this
favour; it comes from God alone; therefore let us not strive to understand it.

10.
Concerning my words: ‘We can do nothing on our own part,’ I was struck by the
words of the Bride in the Canticles, which you will remember to have heard:
’The King brought me into the cellar of wine,’(Cant. i. 3): ‘Introduxit me
rex in cellaria sua.’ Castle, M. v.
ch. i. Way of Perf. ch. xviii. I. Concep. ch. iv. 4-8; v. 5; vi. 7; vii.
2-5. Life, ch. xviii. 17.  (or ‘placed me’ I think she says): she does
not say she went of her own accord, although
telling us how she wandered up and down seeking her Beloved.[134]  I think the prayer of union is the ‘cellar’
in which our Lord places us when and how He chooses, but we cannot enter it
through any effort of our own. His Majesty alone can bring us there and come
into the centre of our souls. In order to declare His wondrous works more
clearly, He will leave us no share in them except complete conformity of our
wills to His and abandonment of all things: He does not require the faculties
or senses to open the door to Him; they are all asleep. He enters the innermost
depths of our souls without a door, as He entered the room where the disciples
sat, saying ‘Pax vobis,’[135]  and as He emerged from the sepulchre without
removing the stone that closed the entrance. You will see farther on, in the
seventh mansion, far better than here, how God makes the soul enjoy His
presence in its very centre. O daughters, what wonders shall we see, if we keep
ever before our eyes our own baseness and frailty and recognize how unworthy we
are to be the handmaids of so great a Lord, Whose marvels are beyond our
comprehension! May He be for ever praised! Amen.

The Fifth Mansions

Chapter II.

CONTINUES
THE SAME SUBJECT: EXPLAINS THE PRAYER OF UNION BY A DELICATE COMPARISON AND
SPEAKS OF THE EFFECTS IT LEAVES UPON THE SOUL. THIS CHAPTER SHOULD RECEIVE
GREAT ATTENTION.

1. The soul compared to a butterfly. 2. The
grandeurs of creation. 3. Symbol of the soul and the silkworm. 4. Preparation
of the soul for God’s indwelling. 5. Mystic death of the silkworm. 6. Effects
of divine union. 7. Increase of fervour and detachment. 8. Trials succeeding
the prayer of union. 9. Longing for death and zeal for God’s honour. 10. This
zeal supernatural. 11. God alone works this grace. 12. The same zeal as that
felt by our Lord on earth. 13. Christ’s keenest suffering.

1.
You may imagine that there is no more left to be described of the contents of
this mansion, but a great deal remains to be told, for as I said, it contains
favours of various degrees. I think there is nothing to add about the prayer of
union, but when the soul on which God bestows this grace disposes itself for
their reception, I could tell you much about the marvels our Lord works in it.
I will describe some of them in my own way, also the state in which they leave
the soul, and will use a suitable comparison to elucidate the matter,
explaining that though we can take no active part in this work of God within us,[136]  yet we may do much to prepare ourselves to
receive this grace. You have heard how wonderfully silk is made—in a way such
as God alone could plan—how it all comes from an egg resembling a tiny
pepper-corn. Not having seen it myself, I only know of it by hearsay, so if the
facts are inaccurate the fault will not be mine. When, in the warm weather, the
mulberry trees come
into leaf, the little egg which was lifeless before its food was ready, begins
to live. The caterpillar nourishes itself upon the mulberry leaves until, when
it has grown large, people place near it small twigs upon which, of its own
accord, it spins silk from its tiny mouth until it has made a narrow little
cocoon in which it buries itself. Then this large and ugly worm leaves the
cocoon as a lovely little white butterfly.

2.
If we had not seen this but had only heard of it as an old legend, who could
believe it? Could we persuade ourselves that insects so utterly without the use
of reason as a silkworm or a bee would work with such industry and skill in our
service that the poor little silkworm loses its life over the task? This would
suffice for a short meditation, sisters, without my adding more, for you may
learn from it the wonders and the wisdom of God. How if we knew the properties
of all things? It is most profitable to ponder over the grandeurs of creation
and to exult in being the brides of such a wise and mighty King.

3.
Let us return to our subject. The silkworm symbolizes the soul which begins to
live when, kindled by the Holy Spirit, it commences using the ordinary aids
given by God to all, and applies the remedies left by Him in His Church, such
as regular confession, religious hooks, and sermons; these are the cure for a
soul dead in its negligence and sins and liable to fall into temptation. Then
it comes to life and continues nourishing itself on this food and on devout
meditation until it has attained full vigour, which is the essential point, for
I attach no importance to the rest. When the silkworm is full-grown as I told
you in the first part of this chapter, it begins to spin silk and to build the
house wherein it must die. By this house, when speaking of the soul, I mean
Christ. I think I read or heard somewhere, either that our life is hid in
Christ, or in God (which means the same thing) or that Christ is our life.(Col. iii. 3):
’Vita vestra est abscondita cum Christo in Deo.’ (Gal. ii. 1) w: ‘Vivo autem, jam
on ego; vivit vero in me Christus.’  It makes little difference to my meaning
which of these quotations is correct.

4.
This shows, my daughters, how much, by God’s grace, we can do, by preparing
this home for ourselves, towards making Him our dwelling-place as He is in the
prayer of union. You will suppose that I mean we can take away from or add
something to God when I say that He is our home, and that we can make this home
and dwell in it by our own power. Indeed we can: though we can neither deprive
God of anything nor add aught to Him, yet we can take away from and add to
ourselves, like the silkworms. The little we can do will hardly have been
accomplished when this insignificant work of ours, which amounts to nothing at
all, will be united by God to His greatness and thus enhanced with such immense
value that our Lord Himself will be the reward of our toil. Although He has had
the greatest share in it, He will join our trifling pains to the bitter
sufferings He endured for us and make them one.

5.
Forward then, my daughters! hasten over your work and build the little cocoon.
Let us renounce self-love
and self-will,[137]  care for nothing earthly, do penance, pray,
mortify ourselves, be obedient, and perform all the other good works of which
you know. Act up to your light; you have been taught your duties. Die! die as
the silkworm does when it has fulfilled the office of its creation, and you
will see God and be immersed in His greatness, as the little silkworm is
enveloped in its cocoon. Understand that when I say ‘you will see God,’ I mean
in the manner described, in which He manifests Himself in this kind of union.

6.
Now let us see what becomes of the ‘silkworm,’ for all I have been saying leads
to this. As soon as, by means of this prayer, the soul has become entirely dead
to the world, it comes forth like a lovely little white butterfly![138]  Oh, how great God is! How beautiful is the
soul after having been immersed in God’s grandeur and united closely to Him for
but a short time! Indeed, I do not think it is ever as long as half an hour.[139]  Truly, the spirit does not recognize itself,
being as different from what it was as is the white butterfly from the
repulsive caterpillar. It does not know how it can have merited so great a
good, or rather, whence this grace came[140]  which it well knows it merits not. The soul
desires to praise our Lord God and longs to sacrifice itself and die a thousand
deaths for Him. It feels an unconquerable desire for great crosses
and would like to perform the most severe penances; it sighs for solitude and
would have all men know God, while it is bitterly grieved at seeing them offend
Him. These matters will be described more fully in the next mansion; there they
are of the same nature, yet in a more advanced state the effects are far
stronger, because, as I told you, if; after the soul has received these
favours, it strives to make still farther progress, it will experience great
things. Oh, to see the restlessness of this charming little butterfly, although
never in its life has it been more tranquil and at peace! May God be praised!
It knows not where to stay nor take its rest; everything on earth disgusts it
after what it has experienced, particularly when God has often given it this
wine which leaves fresh graces behind it at every draught.

7.
It despises the work it did while yet a caterpillar—the slow weaving of its
cocoon thread by thread—its wings have grown and it can fly; could it be
content to crawl? All that it can do for God seems nothing to the soul compared
with its desire. It no longer wonders at what the saints bore for Him, knowing
by experience how our Lord aids and transforms the soul until it no longer
seems the same in character and appearance. Formerly it feared penance, now it
is strong: it wanted courage to forsake relations, friends, or possessions:
neither its actions, its resolutions, nor separation from those it loved could
detach the soul, but rather seemed to increase its fondness. Now it finds even
their rightful claims a burden,[141]  fearing contact with them
lest it should offend God. It wearies of everything, realizing that no true
rest can be found in creatures.

8.
I seem to have enlarged on this subject, yet far more might be said about it;
those who have received this favour will think I have treated it too briefly.
No wonder this pretty butterfly, estranged from earthly things, seeks repose
elsewhere. Where can the poor little creature go? It cannot return to whence it
came, for as I told you, that is not in the soul’s power, do what it will, but
depends upon God’s pleasure. Alas, what fresh trials begin to afflict the mind!
Who would expect this after such a sublime grace?[142]  In fact in one way or another we must carry
the cross all our lives. If people told me that ever since attaining to the
prayer of union they had enjoyed constant peace and consolation, I should reply
that they could never have reached that state, but that, at the most, if they
had arrived as far as the last mansion, their emotion must have been some
spiritual satisfaction joined to physical debility. It might even have been a
false sweetness caused by the devil, who gives peace for a time only to wage
far fiercer war later on. I do not mean that those who reach this stage possess
no peace; they do so in a very high degree, for their sorrows, though extremely
severe, are so beneficial and proceed from so good a source as to procure both
peace and happiness.

9.
Discontent with this world gives such a painful longing to quit it that, if the
heart finds comfort, it
is solely from the thought that God wishes it to remain here in banishment.
Even this is not enough to reconcile it to fate, for after all the gifts
received, it is not yet so entirely surrendered to the will of God as it
afterwards becomes. Here, although conformed to His will, the soul feels an
unconquerable reluctance to submit, for our Lord has not given it higher grace.
During prayer this grief breaks forth in floods of tears, probably from the
great pain felt at seeing God offended and at thinking how many souls, both
heretics and heathens, are lost eternally, and keenest grief of all, Christians
also! The soul realizes the greatness of God’s mercy and knows that however
wicked men are, they may still repent and be saved; yet it fears that many
precipitate themselves into hell.

10.
Oh, infinite greatness of God! A few years ago—indeed, perhaps but a few
days—this soul thought of nothing but itself. Who has made it feel such
tormenting cares? If we tried for many years to obtain such sorrow by means of
meditation, we could not succeed.

11.
God help me! If for long days and years I considered how great a wrong it is
that God should be offended, and that lost souls are His children and my
brethren; if I pondered over the dangers of this world and how blessed it would
be to leave this wretched life, would not that suffice? No, daughters, the pain
would not be the same. for this, by the help of God, we can obtain by such
meditation; but it does not seem to penetrate the very depths of our being like
the other which appears
to cut the soul to pieces and grind it to powder through no action—even
sometimes with no wish—of its own. What is this sorrow, then? Whence does it
come? I will tell you. Have you not heard (I quoted the words to you just now,
but did not apply to them this meaning)[143]  how the Bride says that God ‘brought her into
the cellar of wine and set in order charity in her’?[144]  This is what happens here. The soul has so
entirely yielded itself into His hands and is so subdued by love for Him that
it knows or cares for nothing but that God should dispose of it according to
His will. I believe that He only bestows this grace on those He takes entirely
for His own. He desires that, without knowing how, the spirit should come forth
stamped with His seal for indeed it does no more than does the wax when
impressed with the signet. It does not mould itself but need only be in a fit
condition—soft and pliable; even then it does not soften itself but must
merely remain still and submit to the impression.

12.
How good Thou art, O God! All is done for us by Thee, Who dost but ask us to
give our wills to Thee that we may be plastic as wax in Thy hands. You see,
sisters, what God does to this soul so that it may know that it is His. He
gives it something of His own—that which His Son possessed when living on
earth—He could bestow on greater gift on us. Who could ever have longed more
eagerly to leave this life than did Christ? As He said at the Last Supper: ‘With
desire have I desired’(St. Luke xxii. 15): ‘Desiderio desideravi hoc pascha manducare vobiscum, antequam
patiar.’  this. O Lord! does not that bitter death Thou
art to undergo present itself before Thine eyes in all its pain and horror?
’No, for My ardent love and My desire to save souls are immeasurably stronger
than the torments. This deeper sorrow I have suffered and still suffer while
living here on earth, makes other pain seem as nothing in comparison.’

13.
I have often meditated on this and I know that the torture a friend of mine[145]  has felt, and still feels, at seeing our Lord
sinned against is so unbearable that she would far rather die than continue in
such anguish. Then I thought that if a soul whose charity is so weak compared
to that of Christ—indeed, in comparison with His this charity might be said
not to exist—experiences this insufferable grief, what must have been the feelings
of our Lord Jesus Christ and what must His life have been? for all things were
present before His eyes and He was the constant witness of the great offences
committed against His Father. I believe without doubt that this pained Him far
more than His most sacred Passion. There, at least, He found the end of all His
trials, while His agony was allayed by the consolation of gaining our salvation
through His death and of proving how He loved His Father by suffering for Him.
Thus, people who, urged by fervent love, perform great penances hardly
feel them but want to do still more and count even that as little. What, then,
must His Majesty have felt at thus publicly manifesting His perfect obedience
to His Father and His love for His brethren? What joy to suffer in doing God’s
will! Yet I think the constant sight of the many sins committed against God and
of the numberless souls on their way to hell must have caused Him such anguish
that, had He not been more than man, one day of such torment would have
destroyed not only His life but many more lives, had they been His.

The Fifth Mansions

Chapter III.

THIS
CHAPTER CONTINUES THE SAME SUBJECT AND SPEAKS OF ANOTHER KIND OF UNION WHICH
THE SOUL CAN OBTAIN WITH THE HELP OF GOD. THE IMPORTANCE OF LOVE OF OUR
NEIGHBOUR IN THIS MATTER. THIS IS VERY USEFUL TO READ.

1. Zeal for souls left by divine union. 2.
The soul may fall from such a state. 3. How divine union may always be
obtained. 4. Union with the will of God the basis of all supernatural union. 5.
Advantage of union gained by self-mortification. 6. Defects which hinder this
union. 7. Divine union obtained by perfect love of God and our neighbour. 8.
Love for God and our neighbour are proportionate. 9. Real and imaginary
virtues. 10. Illusionary good resolutions. 11. Works, not feelings, procure
union. 12. Fraternal charity will certainly gain this union.

1.
LET us now return to our little dove and see what graces God gives it in this
state. This implies that the soul endeavours to advance in the service of our
Lord and in self-knowledge. If it receives the grace of union and then does no
more, thinking itself safe, and so leads a careless life, wandering off the
road to heaven (that is, the keeping of the commandments)
it will share the fate of the butterfly that comes from the silkworm, which
lays some eggs that produce more of its kind and then dies for ever. I say it
leaves some eggs, for I believe God will not allow so great a favour to be lost
but that if the recipient does not profit by it, others will. For while it
keeps to the right path, this soul, with its ardent desires and great virtues,
helps others and kindles their fervour with its own. Yet even after having lost
this it may still long to benefit others and delight to make known the mercies
shown by God to those who love and serve Him.[146]

2.
I knew a person to whom this happened. Although greatly erring, she longed that
others should profit by the favours God had bestowed on her and taught the way
of prayer to people ignorant of it, thus helping them immensely. God afterwards
bestowed fresh light upon her; indeed the prayer of union had not hitherto
produced the above effects in her. How many people there must be to whom our
Lord communicates Himself, who, like Judas, are called to the Apostleship and
made kings by Him, as was Saul, yet who afterwards lose everything by their own
fault! We should learn from this, sisters, that if we would merit fresh favours
and avoid losing those we already possess, our only safety lies in obedience
and in following the law of God. This I say, both to those who have received
these graces and to those who have not.[147]

3.
In spite of all I have written, there still seems some difficulty in
understanding this mansion. The advantage
of entering is so great, that it is well that none should despair of doing so
because God does not give them the supernatural gifts described above. With the
help of divine grace true union can always be attained by forcing ourselves to
renounce our own will and by following the will of God in all things.[148]

4.
Oh, how many of us affirm that we do this, and believe we seek nothing
else—indeed we would die for the truth of what we say! If this be the case I
can only declare, as I fancy I did before, and I shall again and again, that we
have already obtained this grace from God. Therefore we need not wish for that
other delightful union described above, for its chief value lies in the
resignation of our will to that of God without which it could not be reached.[149]  Oh, how desirable is this union! The happy
soul which has attained it will live in this world and in the next without care
of any sort. No earthly events can trouble it, unless it should see itself in
danger of losing God or should witness any offence offered Him. Neither
sickness, poverty, nor the loss of any one by death affect it, except that of
persons useful to the Church of God, for the soul realizes thoroughly that
God’s disposal is wiser than its own desires.

5.
You must know that there are different kinds of
sorrow: there are both griefs and joys rising from an impulse of nature or from
a charity which makes us pity our neighbour, like that felt by our Saviour when
He raised Lazarus from the dead.(St. John xi. 35, 36): ‘Et lacrymatus est Jesus. Dixerunt ergo Judæi: Ecce quomodo amabat
cum.’  These feelings do not destroy union with the
will of God nor do they disturb the soul by a restless, turbulent, and lasting
passion. They soon pass away, for as I said of sweetness in prayer,[150]  they do not affect the depths of the soul but
only its senses and faculties. They are found in the former mansions, but do
not enter the last of all. Is it necessary, in order to attain to this kind of
divine union, for the powers of the soul to be suspended? No; God has many ways
of enriching the soul and bringing it to these mansions besides what might be
called a ‘short cut.’ But, be sure of this, my daughters: in any case the
silkworm must die and it will cost you more in this way. In the former manner
this death is facilitated by finding ourselves introduced into a new life;
here, on the contrary, we must give ourselves the death-blow. I own that the
work will be much harder, but then it will be of higher value so that your
reward will be greater if you come forth victorious;[151]  yet
there is no doubt it is possible for you to attain this true union with the
will of God.

6.
This is the union I have longed for all my life and that I beg our Lord to grant
me; it is the most certain and the safest. But alas, how few of us ever
obtain
it! Those who are careful not to offend God, and who enter the religious state,
think there is nothing more to do. How many maggots remain in hiding until,
like the worm which gnawed at Jonas’s ivy,[152]  they have destroyed our virtues. These pests
are such evils as self-love, self-esteem, rash judgment of others even in small
matters, and a want of charity in not loving our neighbour quite as much as
ourselves. Although perforce we satisfy our obligations sufficiently to avoid
sin, yet we fall far short of what must be done in order to obtain perfect
union with the will of God.

7.
What do you think, daughters, is His will? That we may become quite perfect and
so be made one with Him and with His Father as He prayed we might be.(St. John xvii. 22, 23): ‘Ut sint unum, sicut et nos unum sumus. Ego in eis, et tu in me:
ut sint consummati in unum.’ Way of Perf.
ch. xxxii. 6.  Observe, then, what is wanting in us to
obtain this. I assure you it is most painful for me to write on this subject,
for I see how far I am, through my own fault, from having attained perfection.
There is no need for us to receive special consolations from God in order to
arrive at conformity with His will; He has done enough in giving us His Son to
teach the way. This does not mean that we must so submit to the will of God as
not to sorrow at such troubles as the death of a father or brother, or that we
must bear crosses and
sickness with joy.[153]  This is well, but it sometimes comes from
common sense which, as we cannot help ourselves, makes a virtue of necessity.
How often the great wisdom of the heathen philosophers led them to act thus in
trials of this kind! Our Lord asks but two things of us: love, for Him and for
our neighbour: these are what we must strive to obtain. If we practise both
these virtues perfectly we shall be doing His will and so shall be united to
Him. But, as I said, we are very far from obeying and serving our great Master
perfectly in these two matters: may His Majesty give us the grace to merit
union with Him; it is in our power to gain it if we will.

8.
I think the most certain sign that we keep these two commandments is that we
have a genuine love for others. We cannot know whether we love God although
there may be strong reasons for thinking so, but there can be no doubt about
whether we love our neighbour or no.1 (St. John iv. 20): ‘Qui enim non diligit
fratrem suum quem videt, Deum quem non videt quomodo potest diligere?’  Be sure that in proportion as you advance in
fraternal charity, you are increasing in your love of God,[154]  for
His Majesty bears so tender an affection for us that I cannot doubt He will
repay our love for others by augmenting, in a thousand different ways, that
which we bear for Him. We should watch most carefully over ourselves in this
matter, for if we are faultless on this point we have done all. I believe human
nature is so evil that we could not feel a perfect charity
for our neighbour unless it were rooted in the love of God.

9.
In this most important matter, sisters, we should be most vigilant in little
things, taking no notice of the great works we plan during prayer which we
imagine that we would perform for other people, even perhaps for the sake of
saving a single soul. If our actions afterwards belie these grand schemes,
there is no reason to imagine that we should do anything of the sort. I say the
same of humility and the other virtues. The devil’s wiles are many; he would
turn hell upside down a thousand times to make us think ourselves better than
we are. He has good reason for it, for such fancies are most injurious; sham
virtues springing from this root are always accompanied by a vainglory never
found in those of divine origin, which are free from pride.

10.
It is amusing to see souls who, while they are at prayer, fancy they are
willing to be despised and publicly insulted for the love of God, yet
afterwards do all they can to hide their small defects; if any one unjustly
accuses them of a fault, God deliver us from their outcries! Let those who
cannot bear such things take no notice of the splendid plans they made when
alone, which could have been no genuine determination of the will but only some
trick of the imagination, or the results would have been very different. The
devil assaults and deceives people in this way, often doing great harm to women
and others too ignorant to understand the difference between the powers of the
soul and the imagination, and a thousand other matters of the
sort. O sisters! how easy it is to know which of you have attained to a sincere
love of your neighbour, and which of you are far from it. If you knew the
importance of this virtue, your only care would be to gain it.

11.
When I see people very anxious to know what sort of prayer they practise,
covering their faces and afraid to move or think lest they should lose any
slight tenderness and devotion they feel, I know how little they understand how
to attain union with God since they think it consists in such things as these.
No, sisters, no; our Lord expects works
from us. If you see a sick sister whom you can relieve,[155]
never fear losing your devotion; compassionate her; if she is in pain,
feel for it as if it were your own and, when there is need, fast so that she
may eat, not so much for her sake as because you know your Lord asks it of you.
This is the true union of our will with the will of God. If some one else is
well spoken of, be more pleased than if it were yourself; this is easy enough,
for if you were really humble it would vex you to be praised. It is a great
good to rejoice at your sister’s virtues being known and to feel as sorry for
the fault you see in her as if it were yours, hiding it from the sight of
others.

12.
I have often spoken on this subject elsewhere,[156]  because, my sisters, if we fail in this I
know that all is lost: please God this may never be our case. If you possess
fraternal charity, I assure you that you will certainly obtain the union I have
described. If
you are conscious that you are wanting in this charity, although you may feel
devotion and sweetness and a short absorption in the prayer of quiet (which
makes you think you have attained to union with God), believe me you have not
yet reached it. Beg our Lord to grant you perfect love for your neighbour, and
leave the rest to Him. He will give you more than you know how to desire if you
constrain yourselves and strive with all your power to gain it, forcing your
will as far as possible to comply in all things with your sisters’ wishes
although you may sometimes forfeit your own rights by so doing. Forget your
self-interests for theirs, how ever much nature may rebel; when opportunity
occurs take some burden upon yourself to ease your neighbour of it. Do not
fancy it will cost you nothing and that you will find it all done for you:
think what the love He bore for us cost our Spouse, Who to free us from death,
Himself suffered the most painful death of all—the death of the Cross.

The Fifth Mansions

Chapter IV.

FURTHER
EXPLANATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT; EXPLAINS THIS PRAYER. THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING
ON ONE’S GUARD, AS THE DEVIL EAGERLY DESIRES TO TURN SOULS BACK FROM THE RIGHT
PATH.

1. The spiritual espousals. 2. The prayer of
union resembles a betrothal. 3. Before the spiritual nuptials temptations are
dangerous. 4. The great good done by souls faithful to these graces. 5.
Religious subject to the devil’s deceptions. 6. Satan’s strata-gems. 7. Why
they are permitted. 8. Prayer and watchfulness our safeguards. 9. God’s watchfulness
over such souls. 10. Progress in virtue. 11. Insignificance of our actions
compared with their reward. 12. St. Teresa’s motives for writing on prayer.

1.
You appear anxious to know what has become of the little dove and where she
obtains rest, since obviously she can find it neither in spiritual consolations
nor in earthly pleasures but takes a higher flight. I cannot tell you until we
come to the last mansion: God grant I may remember or have leisure to write it.
It is nearly five months since I began this work, and as my head is too weak to
read it again, no doubt it will be very disconnected and full of repetitions:
however, as it is only for my sisters, that will matter little. Yet I should
like to express myself more fully about the prayer of union and will make use,
to the best of my scanty wits, of a comparison. Later on we will speak of the
little butterfly, which is never still, for it can find no true repose, yet
always fertile, doing good both to itself and others.[157]  You have often heard that God spiritually
espouses souls: may He be praised
for His mercy in thus humbling Himself so utterly. Though but a homely
comparison, yet I can find nothing better to express my meaning than the
Sacrament of Matrimony although the two things are very different. In divine
union everything is spiritual and far removed from anything corporal, all the
joys our Lord gives and the mutual delight felt in it being celestial and very
unlike human marriage, which it excels a thousand times. Here all is love
united to love; its operations are more pure, refined, and sweet than can be
described, though our Lord knows how to make the soul sensible of them.

2.
I think this union does not attain as far as the spiritual espousals but
resembles the preliminaries that take place when two people are contemplating a
betrothal. Their suitability and willingness for the alliance are first
discussed; then they may be allowed to see one another sometimes so as to come
to a decision. Thus it is in the spiritual espousals: when the preliminary
agreement has been made and the soul thoroughly understands what great
advantages she will gain, having resolved to fulfil the will of her Spouse in
all things and to do all she can to please Him, His Majesty Who knows well
whether this is so in reality, wishes in return to gratify His bride. He therefore
bestows this favour upon her, visits her and draws her into His presence, as He
wishes her to know Him better. We might compare the prayer of union to a visit,
for it lasts but a very little while.[158]  There is no longer any question
of deliberation, but the soul in a secret manner sees to what a Bridegroom it
is betrothed; the senses and faculties could not, in a thousand years, gain the
knowledge thus imparted in a very short time. The Spouse, being Who He is,
leaves the soul far more deserving of completing the espousals, as we may call
them; the enamoured soul in its love for Him makes every effort to prevent
their being frustrated. Should it grow neglectful and set its affections on
anything except our Lord, it will forfeit everything: this loss is as great as
are the favours the soul has continually received, which are precious beyond
description.[159]

3.
O Christian souls! you whom God has brought thus far! I implore you for His dear
sake not to grow careless, but to avoid all occasions of sin; you are not
strong enough yet to undergo temptation, as you will be after the espousals
which take place in the next mansion. Here the betrothed are, as they say, only
acquainted by sight,[160]  and the devil will spare no pains to oppose
and prevent their nuptials. Afterwards, when he sees the Bride is wholly given
to her Bridegroom, he is afraid to interfere, having learnt by experience that
if he molests her, while he loses much, she will gain greatly in merit.

4.
I can assure you, my daughters,[161]  that I have known people far advanced in the
spiritual life who had reached this state of prayer yet whom the devil
reclaimed by his subtlety and wiles: as I have
often said, all hell leagues together against such souls because the loss of
one of them entails the perdition of many more, as Satan is well aware. If we
considered how many men God draws to Himself by means of one, we should praise
Him fervently. Think of the multitudes converted by the martyrs or by one young
maiden like St. Ursula! Again, of how many victims the evil one was deprived by
St. Dominic, St. Francis, and other founders of religious orders. How many more
he loses, even now, through Father Ignatius [Loyola], who founded the Company
[of Jesus]! As we read their lives, we learn that they received such graces
from God. How was this great good done except by their efforts not to forfeit,
through any fault of theirs, these divine espousals? Oh, my daughters, how
willing our Lord is to grant us the same graces! In fact, there is even more
urgent need now for persons to prepare for such favours, since there are fewer
who care for His honour. We love ourselves too much and are too prudent to give
up any of our rights. What a deception! May God in His mercy give us light,
lest we sink into such darkness.

5.
You may question or be in doubt on two points. Firstly: if the soul is entirely
united with the will of God, as I have stated, how can it be deceived, since it
ever seeks to follow His pleasure? Secondly, how can the devil enter and work
such havoc as to destroy your soul while you are so utterly withdrawn from the
world and constantly frequent the Sacraments?[162]  At the same time you enjoy the society of
angels (as we might call them) and by the mercy of God you desire nothing but
to serve and please Him in all things?[163]  It is not surprising that people in the world
should run such risks. I admit you have the right to say this, for God has
shown us signal mercy; but, as I said above, knowing as I do that Judas was
amongst the Apostles and that he held constant intercourse with God Himself, to
Whose words he listened, I learn that the state of religion does not make us
safe.

6.
To your first question I reply that doubtless if such a soul is always faithful
to the will of God, it cannot be lost; the evil one, however, comes with his
keen subtlety and, under the pretext of good, leads it astray in some trivial
matter and causes it to commit small defects which he makes it believe are
harmless. Thus, little by little, the reason is obscured and the will is
weakened while the devil fosters his victim’s self-love, until, by degrees, he
succeeds in withdrawing it from union with the will of God and makes it follow its
own will.

7.
The answer to your first inquiry will serve for the second. No enclosure can be
too strict for Satan to enter nor any desert too remote for him to visit.
Besides, God may permit him to tempt the soul to prove its virtue; for as He
intends it to enlighten others, it is better for it to fail in the beginning
than when it might do them great harm.

8.
We must beg God constantly in our prayers to uphold us by His hand; we should
keep ever in our minds the truth that if He leaves us, most certainly
we shall fall at once into the abyss, for we must never be so foolish as to
trust in ourselves. After this I think the greatest safeguard is to be very
careful and to watch how we advance in virtue; we must notice whether we are
making progress or falling back in it, especially as regards the love of our
neighbour, the desire to be thought the least of all and how we perform our
ordinary, everyday duties. If we attend to this and beg Our Lord to enlighten
us, we shall at once perceive our gain or loss.

9.
Do not suppose that after advancing the soul to such a state God abandons it so
easily that it is light work for the devil to regain it. When His Majesty sees
it leaving Him, He feels the loss so keenly that He gives it in many a way a
thousand secret warnings which reveal to it the hidden danger.[164]

10.
In conclusion, let us strive to make constant progress: we ought to feel great
alarm if we do not find ourselves advancing, for without doubt the evil one
must be planning to injure us in some way; it is impossible for a soul that has
come to this state not to go still farther, for love is never idle. Therefore
it is a very bad sign when one comes to a stand-still in virtue. She who
aspires to become the spouse of God Himself, and has treated with His Majesty
and come to such an understanding with Him, must not leave off and go to sleep.[165]

11.
To show you, my daughters, how Christ treats the souls He takes for His brides,
I will now speak of
the sixth mansions. You will then see how little in comparison is all that we
can do or suffer in His service to prepare ourselves for the reception of such
immense favours. Perhaps our Lord decreed that I should write this in order
that the knowledge of the great reward to come, and of His infinite mercy in
seeking to give and to manifest Himself to such worms as we are, might make us
forget our wretched, petty, earthly pleasures and run on our way with eyes
fixed on His grandeur, inflamed with love for Him.

12.
May He enable me to explain some of these difficult matters; if our Lord and
the Holy Ghost do not guide my pen, I know the task will prove impossible. 1
beg Him to prevent my saying anything unless it will profit you. His Majesty
knows that, as far as I can judge, I have no other wish but that His Name may
be glorified and that we may strive to serve a Lord Who thus recompenses our
efforts even in this world. What, then, will be our joy in heaven where it will
be continuous, without the interruptions, labours, and dangers of this
tempestuous sea of life? Were it not for the fear of losing or offending Him,
we should wish to live until the end of the world[166]  in order to work for so great a God—our Lord
and our Spouse. May His Majesty enable us to render Him some service free from
the many faults we always commit, even in good works! Amen.

The Sixth Mansions

Chapter I.

THIS
CHAPTER SHOWS HOW, WHEN GOD BESTOWS GREATER FAVOURS ON THE SOUL, IT SUFFERS
MORE SEVERE AFFLICTIONS. SOME OF THE LATTER ARE DESCRIBED AND DIRECTIONS HOW TO
BEAR THEM GIVEN TO THE DWELLERS IN THIS MANSION. THIS CHAPTER IS USEFUL FOR
THOSE SUFFERING INTERIOR TRIALS.

1. Love kindled by divine favours. 2. Our
Lord excites the soul’s longings. 3. Courage needed to reach the last mansions.
4. Trials accompanying divine favours. 5. Outcry raised against souls striving
for perfection. 6. St. Teresa’s personal experience of this. 7. Praise distasteful
to an enlightened soul. 8. This changes to indifference. 9. Humility of such
souls. 10. Their zeal for God’s glory. 11. Perfect and final indifference to
praise or blame. 12. Love of enemies. 13. Bodily sufferings. 14. St. Teresa’s
physical ills. 15. A timorous confessor. 16. Anxiety on account of past sins.
17. Fears and aridity. 18. Scruples and fears raised by the devil. 19.
Bewilderment of the soul. 20. God alone relieves these troubles. 21. Human
weakness. 22. Earthly consolations are of no avail. 23. Prayer gives no comfort
at such a time. 24. Remedies for these interior trials. 25. Trials caused by
the devil. 26. Other afflictions. 27. Preparatory to entering the seventh
mansions.

1.
BY the aid of the Holy Ghost I am now about to treat of the sixth mansions,
where the soul, wounded with love for its Spouse, sighs more than ever for
solitude, withdrawing as far as the duties of its state permit from all that
can interrupt it,
The sight it has enjoyed of Him is so deeply imprinted on the spirit that its
only desire is to behold Him again. I have already said that,[167]  even by the imagination, nothing is seen in
this prayer that can be called sight. I speak of it as ‘sight’ because of the
comparison I used.

2.
The soul is now determined to take no other Bridegroom than our Lord, but He
disregards its desires for its speedy espousals, wishing that these longings
should become still more vehement and that this good, which far excels all
other benefits, should be purchased at some cost to itself. And although for so
great a gain all that we must endure is but a poor price to pay, I assure you,
daughters, that this pledge of what is in store for us is needed to inspire us
with courage to bear our crosses.

3.
O My God, how many troubles both interior and exterior must one suffer before
entering the seventh mansions! Sometimes, while pondering over this I fear
that, were they known beforehand, human infirmity could scarcely bear the
thought nor resolve to encounter them, however great might appear the gain. If,
however, the soul has already reached the seventh mansions, it fears nothing:
boldly undertaking to suffer all things for God,[168]  it gathers strength from its almost
uninterrupted union with Him.

4.
I think it would be well to tell you of some of the trials certain to occur in
this state. Possibly all souls may not be led in this way, but I think that
those who sometimes enjoy such truly heavenly favours
cannot be altogether free from some sort of earthly troubles. Therefore,
although at first I did not intend to speak on this subject, yet afterwards I
thought that it might greatly comfort a soul in this condition if it knew what
usually happens to those on whom God bestows graces of this kind, for at the
time they really seem to have lost everything.

5.
I shall not enumerate these trials in their proper order, but will describe
them as they come to my memory, beginning with the least severe. This is an
outcry raised against such a person by those amongst whom she lives, and even
from others she has nothing to do with but who fancy that at some time in her
life they recollect having seen her. They say she wants to pass for a saint,
that she goes to extremes in piety to deceive the world and to depreciate
people who are better Christians than herself without making such a parade of
it. But notice that she does nothing except endeavour to carry out the duties
of her state more perfectly. Persons she thought were her friends desert her,
making the most bitter remarks of all. They take it much to heart that her soul
is ruined—she is manifestly deluded—it is all the devil’s work—she will
share the fate of so-and-so who was lost through him, and she is leading virtue
astray. They cry out that she is deceiving her confessors, and tell them so,
citing examples of others who came to ruin in the same way and make a thousand
scoffing remarks of the same sort.[169]
6.
I know some one who feared she would be unable to find any priest who would
hear her confession, to such a pass did things come; but as it is a long story,
I will not stop to tell it now. The worst of it is, these troubles do not blow
over but last all her life, for one person warns the other to have nothing to
do with people of her kind. You will say that, on the other hand, some speak in
her favour. O my daughters, how few think well of her in comparison with the
many who hate her!

7.
Besides this, praise pains such a soul more than blame because it recognizes
clearly that any good it possesses is the gift of God and in no wise its own,
seeing that but a short time ago it was weak in virtue and involved in grave
sins.[170]  Therefore commendation causes it intolerable
suffering, at least at first, although later on, for many reasons, the soul is
comparatively indifferent to either.

8.
The first is that experience has shown the mind that men are as ready to speak
well as ill of others, so it attaches no more importance to the one than to the
other. Secondly, our Lord having granted it greater light, it perceives that no
good thing in it is its own but is His gift, and becomes oblivious of self,
praising God for His graces as if they were found in a third person.

9.
The third reason is that, realizing the benefit reaped by others from
witnessing graces given it by God, such a one thinks that it is for their
profit He causes them to discover in her virtues that do not exist. 10.
Fourthly, souls seeking God’s honour and glory more than their own are cured of
the temptation (which usually besets beginners) of thinking that human praise
will cause them the injury they have seen it do to others. Nor do these souls
care much for men’s contempt if only, by their means, any one should praise God
at least once—come what may afterwards.

11.
These and other reasons to a certain extent allay the great distress formerly
given by human praise which, however, still causes some discomfort unless the
soul has become utterly regardless of men’s tongues. It is infinitely more
grieved at being undeservedly esteemed by the world than by any calumny; and
when at last it becomes almost indifferent to praise, it cares still less for
censure, which even pleases it and sounds like harmonious music to the ears.

12.
This is perfectly true; the soul is rather strengthened than depressed by its
trials, experience having taught it the great advantages derived from them. It
does not think men offend God by persecuting it, but that He permits them to do
so for its greater gain.[171]  So strong is this belief that such a person
bears a special affection for these people, holding them as truer friends and
greater benefactors than those who speak well of her.[172]

13.
Our Lord now usually sends severe bodily infirmity. This is a far heavier
cross, especially if acute pain is felt: if this is violent, I think
it is the hardest
of earthly trials. I speak of exterior trials; but corporal pains of the
worst kind enter the interior of our being also, affecting both spirit and
body, so that the soul in its anguish knows not what to do with itself and
would far rather meet death at once by some quick martyrdom than suffer thus. However,
these paroxysms do not last long, for God never sends us more than we can bear
and always gives us patience first.

14.
Now to speak of other trials and illnesses of many kinds which generally occur
to people in this state. I knew some one who, from the time when, forty years
ago,[173]  our Lord began to bestow on her the favour
described, could not affirm with any truth that she had been a single day
without pain and other kinds of suffering: I am speaking of physical
infirmities besides heavy crosses sent her.[174]  True, she had led a wicked life and therefore
held these troubles very light in comparison with the hell she had deserved.[175]  Our Lord leads those who have offended Him
less by some other way, but I should always choose the way of suffering, if
only for the sake of imitating our Lord Jesus Christ; though, in fact, it
profits us in many other manners. Yet, oh! the rest would seem trifling in
comparison could I relate the interior torments met with here, but they are
impossible to describe.

15.
Let us first speak of the trial of meeting with so timorous and
inexperienced a confessor that nothing
seems safe to him; he dreads and suspects everything but the commonplace,
especially in a soul in which he deters any imperfection, for he thinks people
on whom God bestows such favours must be angels, which is impossible while we
live in our bodies.[176]  He at once ascribes everything to the devil
or melancholy. As to the latter, I am not surprised; there is so much of it in
the world and the evil one works such harm in this way that confessors have the
strongest reasons for anxiety and watchfulness about it.

16.
The poor soul, beset by the same fears, seeks its confessor as judge, and feels
a torture and dismay at his condemnation that can only be realized by those who
have experienced it themselves.[177]  For one of the severe trials of these souls,
especially if they have lived wicked lives, is their belief that God permits
them to be deceived in punishment for their sins. While actually receiving
these graces they feel secure and cannot but suppose that these favours proceed
from the Spirit of God; but this state lasts a very short time, while the remembrance
of their misdeeds is ever before them, so that when, as is sure to happen, they
discover any faults in themselves, these torturing thoughts return.[178]

17.
The soul is quieted for a time when the confessor reassures it although it
returns later on to its former apprehensions, but when he augments its fears
they become almost unbearable. Especially is this the case when such spiritual
dryness ensues that
the mind feels as if it never had thought of God nor ever will be able to do
so. When men speak of Him, they seem to be talking of some person heard of long
ago.

18.
All this is nothing without the further pain of thinking we cannot make our
confessors understand the case and are deceiving them.[179]  Although such a person may examine her
conscience with the greatest care, and may know that she reveals even the first
movement of her mind to her director, it does not help her. Her understanding
being too obscure to discern the truth, she believes all that the imagination,
which now has the upper hand, puts before her mind, besides crediting the
falsehoods suggested to her by the devil, whom doubtless our Lord gives leave
to tempt her. The evil spirit even tries to make her think God has rejected
her. Many are the trials which assault this soul, causing an internal anguish
so painful and so intolerable that I can compare it to nothing save that
suffered by the lost in hell, for no comfort can be found in this tempest of trouble.[180]

19.
If the soul seeks for consolation from its confessor, all the demons appear to
help him to torment it more. A confessor who dealt with a person suffering in
this manner thought that her state must be very dangerous as so many things
were troubling her; therefore, after she had recovered from her trials, he bade
her tell him whenever they recurred:
however, he found this made matters worse than ever. She lost all control over
herself: although she had learnt to read, yet she could no more understand a
book in the vulgar tongue than if she had not known the alphabet, for her mind
was incapable of acting.[181]

20.
In short, there is no other remedy in such a tempest except to wait for the
mercy of God Who, unexpectedly, by some casual word or unforeseen circumstance,
suddenly dispels all these sorrows; then every cloud of trouble disappears and
the mind is left full of light and far happier than before.[182]  It praises our Lord God like one who has come
out victorious from a dangerous battle, for it was He Who won the victory. The
soul is fully conscious that the conquest was not its own as all weapons of
self-defence appeared to be in the enemies’ hands. Thus it realizes its
weakness and how little man can help himself if God forsake him.

21.
This truth now needs no demonstration, for past experience has taught the soul
its utter incapacity; it realizes the nothingness of human nature and what
miserable creatures we are. Although in a state of grace from which it has not
fallen—for, in spite of these torments, it has not offended God, nor would it
do so for any earthly thing[183]
—yet so hidden is this grace, that the sufferer believes that neither now, nor
in the past, has she ever possessed the faintest spark of love for
God.[184]  If at any time she has
done good, or if His Majesty ever bestowed any
favours on her, they seem to have been but a dream or a fancy, while her sins
stand clearly before her.

22.
O Jesus! how sad it is to see a soul thus forsaken, and how little, as I said,
can any earthly comfort avail! Do not imagine, sisters, if you are ever brought
to such a state, that rich and independent people have more resources than
yourselves in these troubles. No, no! to offer such consolations would be like
setting all the joys of the world before people condemned to death: far from
mitigating, it would increase their torture. So with the souls I spoke of:
their comfort must come from above—nothing earthly can help them. This great
God wishes us to acknowledge His sovereignty and our own misery—an important
point for those who are to advance still farther.

23.
What can the poor soul do if such a trial lasts for many days? Prayer makes no
difference as far as comforting the heart, which no consolation can enter, nor
can the mind even grasp the meaning of the words of vocal prayer: mental prayer
is out of the question at such a time, since the faculties are unequal to it.
Solitude harms the soul, yet society or conversation is a fresh torment. Strive
as the sufferer may to hide it, she is so wearied and out of sorts with all
around that she cannot but manifest her condition.

24.
How can the soul possibly tell what ails it? Its pains are indescribable; it is
wrung with nameless anguish and spiritual suffering. The best remedy for these
crosses (I do not mean for gaining deliverance from
them, for I know of nothing that will do that, but for enabling one to bear
them) is to perform external works of charity and to trust in the mercy of God,
which never fails those who hope in Him.[185]  May He be for ever blessed! Amen

25.
The devils also bring about exterior trials which being more unusual need not
be mentioned. They are far less painful, for whatever the demons may do, I
believe they never succeed in paralysing the faculties or disturbing the soul
in the former manner. In fact, the reason is able to discern that the evil
spirits can do no more harm than God permits; and while the mind has not lost
its powers, all sufferings are comparatively insignificant.

26.
I shall treat of other internal afflictions met with in this mansion when
describing the different kinds of prayer and favours bestowed here by our Lord.
Although some of these latter pains are harder to endure, as appears by their
bodily effects, yet they do not deserve the name of crosses, nor have we the
right to call them so. Indeed, they are great graces from God as the soul
recognizes amidst its pangs, realizing how far it is from meriting such graces.

27.
This severe torture felt by souls just at the entrance of the seventh mansion
is accompanied by many other sufferings, some of which I will mention: to speak
of them all would be impossible, nor could I portray them because they come
from another and far higher source than the rest. If I have succeeded so ill in
writing of trials of a lower kind, much less could I treat of the others. May God assist me in all
things, through the merits of His Son! Amen.

The Sixth Mansions

Chapter II.

TREATS
OF SEVERAL WAYS WHEREBY OUR LORD QUICKENS THE SOUL; THERE APPEARS NO CAUSE FOR
ALARM IN THEM ALTHOUGH THEY ARE SIGNAL FAVOURS OF A VERY EXALTED NATURE.

1. Our Lord excites the love of His spouse.
2. The wound of love. 3. The pain it causes. 4. The call of the Bridegroom. 5.
Effect on the soul. 6. A spark of the fire of love. 7. The spark dies out. 8.
This grace evidently divine. 9. One such wound repays many trials. 10. First
reason of immunity from deception. 11. Second and third reasons. 12. The
imagination not concerned in it. 13. St. Teresa never alarmed at this prayer.
14. ‘The odour of Thine ointment.’ 15. No reason to fear deception here.

1.
IT seems as if we had deserted the little dove for a long time, but this is not
the case, for these past trials cause her to take a far higher flight. I will
now describe the way in which the Spouse treats her before uniting her entirely
to Himself. He increases her longing for Him by devices so delicate that the
soul itself cannot discern them; nor do I think I could explain them except to
people who have personally experienced them. These desires are delicate and
subtle impulses springing from the inmost depths of the soul; I know of nothing
to which they can be compared.

2.
These graces differ entirely from anything we ourselves can gain, and even from
the spiritual consolation before described.[186]  In the present case, even when the mind is
not recollected or even thinking of God, although no sound is heard, His Majesty arouses it
suddenly as if by a swiftly flashing comet or by a clap of thunder.[187]  Yet the soul thus called by God hears Him
well enough—so well, indeed, that sometimes, especially at first, it trembles
and even cries out, although it feels no pain. It is conscious of having
received a delicious wound but cannot discover how, nor who gave it, yet
recognizes it as a most precious grace and hopes the hurt will never heal.

3.
The soul makes amorous complaints to its Bridegroom, even uttering them aloud;
nor can it control itself, knowing that though He is present He will not
manifest Himself so that it may enjoy Him. This causes a pain, keen although
sweet and delicious from which the soul could not escape even if it wished; but
this it never desires.[188]  This favour is more delightful than the
pleasing absorption of the faculties in the prayer of quiet which is
unaccompanied by suffering.[189]

4.
I am at my wits’ end, sisters, as to how to make you understand this operation
of love: I know not how to do so. It seems contradictory to say that the
Beloved clearly shows He dwells in the soul and calls by so unmistakable a sign
and a summons so penetrating, that the spirit cannot choose but hear it, while
He appears to reside in the seventh mansion. He speaks in this manner, which is
not a set form of speech, and the inhabitants of the other mansions,
the senses, the imagination and the faculties, dare not stir.[190]

5.
O Almighty God! how profound are Thy secrets and how different are spiritual
matters from anything that can be seen or heard in this world! I can find
nothing to which to liken these graces, insignificant as they are compared with
many others Thou dost bestow on souls. This favour acts so strongly upon the
spirit that it is consumed by desires yet knows not what to ask, for it
realizes clearly that its God is with it. You may inquire, if it realizes this
so clearly, what more does it desire and why is it pained? What greater good
can it seek? I cannot tell: I know that this suffering seems to pierce the very
heart, and when He Who wounded it draws out the dart He seems to draw the heart
out too, so deep is the love it feels.[191]

6.
I have been thinking that God might be likened to a burning furnace[192]  from which a small spark flies into the soul
that feels the heat of this great fire, which, however, is insufficient to
consume it. The sensation is so delightful that the spirit lingers in the pain
produced by its contact. This seems to me the best comparison I can find, for
the pain is delicious and is not really pain at all, nor does it always
continue in the same degree; sometimes it lasts for a long time; on other
occasions it passes quickly. This is as God chooses, for no human means can
obtain it; and though felt at times for a long while, yet it is
intermittent.

7.
In fact it is never permanent and therefore does not wholly inflame the spirit;
but when the soul is ready to take fire, the little spark suddenly dies out,
leaving the heart longing to suffer anew its loving pangs. No grounds exist for
thinking this comes from any natural cause or from melancholy, or that it is an
illusion of the devil or the imagination. Undoubtedly this movement of the
heart comes from God Who is unchangeable; nor do its effects is resemble those
of other devotions in which the strong absorption of delight makes us doubt
their reality.

8.
There is no suspension here of the senses or other faculties: they wonder at
what is happening, without impeding it. Nor do I think that they can either
increase or dispel this delightful pain. Any one who has received this favour
from our Lord will understand my meaning on reading this: let her thank Him
fervently: there is no need to fear deception but far more fear of not being
sufficiently grateful for so signal a grace. Let her endeavour to serve Him and
to amend her life in every respect; then she will see what will follow and how
she will obtain still higher and higher gifts.

9.
A person on whom this grace was bestowed passed several years without receiving
any other favour, yet was perfectly satisfied, for even had she served God for
very many years in the midst of severe trials, she would have felt abundantly
repaid. May He be for ever blessed! Amen.

10.
Perhaps you wonder why we may feel more secure against deception concerning
this favour than
in other cases. I think it is for these reasons. Firstly, because the devil
cannot give such delicious pain: he may cause pleasure or delight which appears
spiritual but is unable to add suffering, especially suffering of so keen a
sort, united to peace and joy of soul. His power is limited to what is
external; suffering produced by him is never accompanied with peace, but with
anxieties and struggles.

11.
Secondly, because this welcome storm comes from no region over which Satan has
control. Thirdly, because of the great benefits left in the soul which, as a
rule, is resolute to suffer for God and longs to bear many crosses. It is also
far more determined than before to withdraw from worldly pleasures and
intercourse and other things of the same sort.

12.
It is very clear that this is no fiction: the imagination may counterfeit some
favours but not this, which is too manifest to leave room for doubt. Should any
one still remain uncertain, let her know that hers were not genuine impulses;[193]  that is, if she is dubious as to whether or
no she experienced them, for they are as certainly perceived by the soul as is
a loud voice by the ears. It is impossible for these experiences to proceed
from melancholy whose whims arise and exist only in the imagination, whereas
this emotion comes from the interior of the soul.

13.
I may be mistaken, but I shall not change my opinion until I hear reasons to
the contrary from those
who understand these matters. I know some one who has always greatly dreaded
such deceptions, yet could never bring herself to feel any alarm about this
state of prayer.[194]

14.
Our Lord also uses other means of rousing the soul; for instance—when reciting
vocal prayer without seeking to penetrate the sense, a person may be seized
with a delightful fervour[195]  as if suddenly encompassed with a fragrance
powerful enough to diffuse itself through all the senses. I do not assert that
there really is any perfume but use this comparison because it somewhat
resembles the manner by which the Spouse makes His presence understood, moving
the soul to a delicious desire of enjoying Him and thus disposing it to heroic
acts, and causing it to render Him fervent praise.

15.
This favour springs from the same source as the former, but causes no suffering
here, nor are the soul’s longings to enjoy God painful: this is what is more
usually experienced by the soul. For the reasons already given there appears no
cause here for fear, but rather for receiving it with thanksgiving.

The Sixth Mansions

Introductory Note To Chapter III.

BY
THE EDITOR

THE
readers, especially those not well acquainted with Scholastic philosophy, will,
perhaps, be glad to find here a short explanation of the various kinds. of
Vision and Locution, Corporal, Imaginary, and Intellectual. The senses of
Taste, Touch, and Smell are not so often affected by mystical phenomena, but
what we are about to say in respect of Sight and Hearing applies, mutatis
mutandis, to these also.

1.
A CORPORAL VISION is when one sees a bodily object. A Corporal Locution is when
one hears words uttered by a human tongue. In both cases the respective senses
are exercising their normal function, and the phenomenon differs from ordinary
seeing or hearing merely by the fact that in the latter the object seen is a
real body, the words perceived come from a real tongue, whereas in the Vision
or Locution the object is either only apparent or at any rate is not such as it
seems to be. Thus, when young Tobias set out on a journey, his companion,
Azarias, was not a real human being, but an archangel in human form. Tobias did
really see and hear him, and felt the grip of his hand; Sara and her parents,
as well as Tobias’s parents, saw and heard him too, but all the time the
archangel made himself visible and audible by means of an assumed body, or
perhaps of an apparent body. It would be more correct to describe such a
phenomenon as an APPARITION than as a Vision, and in fact the apparitions of
our Risen Lord to the holy women and the apostles belong to this category. For,
though His was a real body, it was glorified and therefore no longer subject to
the same laws which govern purely human things. (St. Thomas, Summa theol. III., qu. 54, art. I-3).

St.
Teresa tells us more than once that she never beheld
a Corporal Vision, nor heard a Corporal Locution.

II.
AN IMAGINARY VISION OR LOCUTION is one where nothing is seen or heard by the
senses of seeing or hearing, but where the same impression is received that
would be produced upon the imagination by the senses if some real object were
perceived by them. For, according to the Scholastics, the Imagination stands
half-way between the senses and the intellect, receiving impressions from the
former and transmitting them to the latter. This is the reason why imaginary
Visions and Locutions are so dangerous that, according to St. Teresa, St. John
of the Cross, and other spiritual writers, they should not only never be sought
for, but as much as possible shunned and under all circumstances
discountenanced. For the Imagination is closely connected with the Memory, so
that it is frequently impossible to ascertain whether a Vision, etc., is not
perhaps a semi-conscious or unconscious reproduction of scenes witnessed. It is
here also that deception, wilful or unwilful, self-deception or deception by a
higher agency, is to be feared. Hence the general rule that such Visions or
Locutions should only be trusted upon the strongest grounds. According to St.
Thomas Aquinas, (Summa theol. IIa IIæ,
gu. 175, art. 3 ad q.) the visions of Isaias, St. John in the Apocalypse etc.,
were Imaginary.

As
an example of Imaginary Visions we may mention St. Stephen, who saw ‘the
heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing on the right hand of God’; or St.
Peter, who saw ‘the heaven opened, and a certain vessel descending, as it were
a great linen sheet, let down by the four corners from heaven to the earth . .
. and there came a voice to him: Arise, Peter, kill and eat.’ (Acts, vii. 55;
X. 11-13).

These
Visions, Locutions, etc., are not hallucinations. The latter are due to
physical disorder which affects the memory and causes it to represent
impressions formerly received by it, in a disorderly and often grotesque
manner. The Imaginary Vision takes place independently of a morbid
state, is caused by an extraneous power, good or evil, and has for its object
things of which the memory neither has nor ever has had cognizance.

III.
AN INTELLECTUAL VISION OR LOCUTION is one where nothing is seen or heard by the
eyes and ears, and where no sensation is received by the imagination. But the
impression which would be delivered by the imagination to the intellect, had it
come through the senses and been handed on to the imagination, is directly
imprinted upon the intellect. To understand this it is necessary to bear in
mind that the impressions we receive through the senses must undergo a
transformation—must be spiritualized—before they reach the intellect. This is
one of the most difficult problems of psychology; none of the solutions offered
by various schools of philosophy seem to render it entirely free from
obscurity. According to St. Thomas Aquinas, the impression received by the eye
(Species sensibilis) is spiritualized
by a faculty called Intellectus agens
by means of abstraction (Species impressa),
and is treasured up in the memory, like lantern slides, available at demand.
The mind, identifying itself with the Species impressa, produces the ‘Word of
the mind’ (Verbum mentis), wherein
consists the act of Understanding or Mental Conception. In the Intellectual
Vision or Locution, God, without co-operation on the part of the senses, the
imagination, or the memory, produces directly on the mind the Species impressa. As this is
supernatural with regard to its origin, and often also with respect to its
object, it stands to reason that it is too exalted for the memory to receive
it, so that such Visions and Locutions are frequently only imperfectly
remembered and sometimes altogether forgotten, as St. Teresa tells us. On the
other hand they are far less dangerous than Corporal or Imaginary Visions and
Locutions, because the senses and imagination have nothing to do with them,
whilst evil spirits are unable to act directly upon the mind, and self-deception
is altogether excluded for the reasons stated by St. Teresa. An
instance of such a vision is mentioned by St. Paul: ‘I know a man in Christ
above fourteen years ago (whether in the body I know not, or out of the body I
know not: God knoweth), such an one rapt even to the third heaven. And I know
such a man (whether in the body or out of the body, I know not: God knoweth):
that he was caught up into paradise, and heard secret words, which it is not
granted to man to utter’ ((2 Cor. xii. 2-4)).

The Sixth Mansions

Chapter III.

TREATS
OF THE SAME SUBJECT AND OF THE WAY GOD IS SOMETIMES PLEASED TO SPEAK TO THE
SOUL. HOW WE SHOULD BEHAVE IN SUCH A CASE, IN WHICH WE MUST NOT FOLLOW OUR OWN
OPINION. GIVES SIGNS TO SHOW HOW TO DISCOVER WHETHER THIS FAVOUR IS A DECEPTION
OR NOT: THIS IS VERY NOTEWORTHY.

1. Locutions. 2. Sometimes caused by
melancholia. 3. Caution needed at first. 4. Locutions frequently occur during
prayer. 5. Resist those containing false doctrine. 6. First sign of genuine
locutions. 7. Effect of the words: ‘Be not troubled.’ 8. ‘It is I, be not
afraid.’ 9. ‘Be at Peace.’ 10. Second sign. 11. Third sign. 12. The devil
suggests doubts about true locutions. 13. Confidence of the soul rewarded. 14.
Its joy at seeing God’s words verified. 15. Its zeal for God’s honour. 16.
Locutions coining from the fancy. 17. Imaginary answers given to prayer. 18. A
confessor should be consulted about locutions. 19. Interior locutions. 20.
First sign of genuine interior locutions. 21. Second sign. 22. Third sign. 23.
Fourth sign. 24. Fifth sign. 25. Results of true locutions. 26. They should
remove alarm. 27. Answer to an objection.

1.
GOD arouses the soul in another manner which, though in some ways apparently a
greater favour than the above mentioned, yet may prove more dangerous,
therefore I will give some particulars about it. He does this by means of words
addressed to the soul in many different ways; sometimes they appear to come
from without; at other times from
the inner depths of the soul; or again, from its superior part; while other
speeches are so exterior as to be heard by the ears like a real voice.

2.
At times, indeed very often, this may be only a fancy; especially with persons
of a lively imagination or who are afflicted with melancholy to any marked
extent. I think that no attention should be paid to either class of people when
they say they see, hear, or learn anything supernaturally. Do not disturb them
by saying that it comes from the devil,[196]  but listen to them as if they were sick
persons. Let the prioress or confessor to whom they tell their story bid them
think no more of it as such matters are not essential in the service of God:
the devil has deceived many Christians thus, although perhaps it is not so in their
case; therefore they need not trouble themselves about it. Thus we must
accomodate ourselves to their humour: if we tell them their fancies proceed
from melancholia, there will be no end to the matter, for they will persist in
maintaining they have seen and heard these things, for so it seems to them.

3.
The truth is, care should be taken to keep such people from too much prayer and
to persuade them, as far as possible, to take no notice of their fancies: the
devil makes use of these weak souls to injure others, even if they themselves
escape unhurt. There is need for caution both with feeble and strong souls at
first, until it is certain from what spirit these things proceed. I maintain
that, in the beginning, it is always wiser to resist these communications;
if they come from God this is the best way to receive more, for they increase
when discouraged. At the same time the soul should not be too strictly
controlled or disquieted, for it cannot help itself in the matter.

4.
To return to discuss the words addressed to the soul: any kind I mentioned may
come either from God, the devil, or the imagination. By the help of God I will
endeavour to describe the signs distinguishing the one from the other, and when
these locutions are dangerous, for they occur to many persons who praise
prayer. I do not wish you to think, sisters, that there is any harm either in
believing or in disregarding them. When they only console you, or warn you of
your faults, it matters not whence they come or whether they are only fancies.

5.
I caution you on one point—although they may come from God, you must not
esteem yourself more highly, for He often spoke to the Pharisees[197]
—all the good consists in profiting by His words. Take no more notice of any
speeches you hear which disagree with the Holy Scriptures than if you heard
them from Satan himself. Though they may only rise from your vivid imagination,
look upon them as a temptation against the faith. Always resist them; then they
will leave you, and cease, for they have little strength of their own.[198]

6.
Now let us return to the first point—whether these communications come from
the inferior or the
superior part of the soul, or from without, does not affect their originating
from God.

7.
In my opinion these are the most certain signs of their being divine. The first
and truest is the power and authority they carry with them, for these words are
operative.(Ps. cxlviii. 5): ‘Ipse dixit et facta
sunt.’ Life, ch. xxv. 5. Anton. a Sp.
S. l.c. tr. iii. n. 353. St.
John of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel,
bk. ii. ch. xxxi. calls these ‘substantial words.’  For example: a soul is suffering all the
sorrow and disquiet I have described: the mind is darkened and dry; but it is
set at peace, freed from all trouble and filled with light merely by hearing
the words: ‘Be not troubled.’ These deliver it from all its pains, although it
felt as though, if the whole world and all its theologians had united in trying
to persuade it there was no cause for grief, it could not, in spite of all
their efforts, have been delivered from its affliction.[199]

8.
Again, a person is troubled and greatly terrified at being told by her
confessor and other people that her soul is under the influence of the evil
one: she hears a single sentence which says, ‘It is I, be not afraid,’(St. Luke xxiv. 36).  and is at once freed from all fears and
filled with consolation; indeed, she believes it would be impossible for any
one to disturb her confidence.[200]

9.
Again, when exceedingly anxious about important business, not knowing whether
or not it will be successful, on hearing words bidding her ‘Be at peace; all will go well,’ she
feels reassured and free from all care in the matter.[201]  Many
other instances of the same sort could be mentioned.

10.
The second sign is a great calm and a devout and peaceful recollection which
dwell in the soul together with a desire to praise God. They say that
communications, at any rate in this mansion, are not uttered direly by God but
are transmitted by an angel.[202]  Then, O my God, if a word sent to us by Thee
through Thy messenger has such force, what effects wilt Thou not leave in the
soul united to Thee in a mutual bond of love?[203]

11.
The third proof is that these words do not pass from the memory but remain
there for a very long time; sometimes they are never forgotten. This is not the
case with what men may utter, which,
however grave and learned they may be, is not thus impressed on our memory.
Neither, if they prophesy of things to come, do we believe them as we do these
divine locutions which leave us so convinced of their truth that, although
their fulfilment sometimes seems utterly impossible and we vacillate and doubt
about them, there still remains
in the soul a certainty of their verity which cannot be destroyed. Perhaps
everything may seem to militate against what was heard and years pass by, yet
the spirit never loses its belief that God will make use of means unknown to
men for the purpose and that finally what was foretold must surely happen; as
indeed it does.[204]

12.
Still, as I said, the soul is troubled at seeing many obstacles in the way of
the accomplishment of the prophecy. The words, their effects, and the assurance
they carry with them convinced the soul at the moment that they came from God.
Afterwards, however, doubts arise as to whether the locutions came from the
devil or from the imagination, although while hearing them the person would
have died to defend their truth.[205]  But, as I said, these misgivings must be
suggested by the evil one to afflict and intimidate her, especially if by
carrying out a command thus given great good will result to souls and some work
be done conducing notably to the honour and service of God, concerning which
great difficulties have to be overcome. In such cases, where will Satan stop
short? At least, he weakens faith, and it is a terrible evil to doubt that God
has power to work in a way far beyond our understanding.

13.
Despite all these difficulties and although the confessors consulted on these
matters say the words were but fancies, while events take such an unfavourable
turn as to make the realization of these predictions seem impossible, yet there
remains so lively
a spark of certainty in the mind (I know not whence it comes) that, although
all other hopes die out, it cannot, if it would, quench this ardent spark of
confidence. At last, as I said, our Lord’s words are accomplished, at which the
soul is so satisfied and joyful that it can do nothing but praise His
Majesty—more because it sees His words prove true than on account of the thing
itself, even though it may be of consequence to the person concerned.

14.
I know not why the soul attaches such importance to these communications being
verified. I think that if the person herself were detected in telling
falsehoods, she would not be so grieved as at these locutions proving
untrue—as if she could do anything in the matter beyond repeating what has
been said to her! A certain person was frequently reminded in such a case of
the Prophet Jonas, when he found Ninive was not to be destroyed.[206]

15.
In fact, as these words come from the Spirit of God, it is right thus to trust
them and to desire that He Who is supreme truth should not be thought a
deceiver. Justly, therefore, does their hearer rejoice when, after a thousand
delays and enormous difficulties, they are accomplished. Although this success
may entail great suffering on herself, she prefers it to the nonfulfilment of
what she knows our Lord most certainly foretold. Possibly every one is not so
weak as this, if indeed it is
a weakness, though I cannot myself condemn it as an evil.

16.
If these locutions proceed from the imagination[207]  they show no such signs, bringing neither
conviction, peace, nor interior joy with them. But in some cases I have come
across, on account of a very weak constitution or vivid imagination or of other
causes I do not know, persons while absorbed in the prayer of quiet and in
spiritual slumber are so entirely carried out of themselves by their deep state
of recollection as to be unconscious of anything external. All their senses
being thus dormant, as if asleep—as indeed, at times they really are—they
thus, in a sort of dream, fancy they are spoken to or see things they imagine
come from God, but which leave no more effect than dreams.

17.
Again, one who very lovingly asks something of our Lord may fancy that an
answer comes from Him.[208]  This often occurs, but I think that no one
accustomed to receive divine communications could be deceived on this point by
the imagination.

18.
The devil’s deceptions are more dangerous; but if the foregoing signs are
present, we may feel fairly confident that these locutions are from God, though
not so certain but that, if they refer to some weighty matter in which we are
called upon to act or if they concern a third person, we should consult some
confessor who is both learned and a servant of God, before attempting or
thinking of acting on them, although we may have heard them repeated several
times and are convinced of their truth
and divine origin.[209]  His Majesty wishes us to take this course; it
is not disobedience to His commands, for He has bidden us hold our confessor as
His representative even where there is no doubt that the communications come
from Him: thus we shall gain courage if the matter is a very difficult one. Our
Lord will reassure our confessor, whom, when He so chooses, He will inspire
with faith that these locutions are from the Holy Ghost.[210]  If not, we are freed from all further
obligations in the matter. I think it would be very dangerous to act against
our confessor’s advice and to prefer our own opinions in such a matter.
Therefore, sisters, I admonish you in the name of our Lord, never to do
anything of the sort.

19.
God speaks to the soul in another way by a certain intellectual vision which I
think undoubtedly proceeds from Him; it will be described later on.[211] 8 It takes place far
within the innermost depths of the soul which appears to hear distinctly in a
most mysterious manner, with its spiritual hearing, the words spoken to it by
our Lord Himself. The way in which the spirit perceives these words and the
results produced by them, convince us that they cannot in any way come from the
devil. Their powerful aftereffects force us to admit this and plainly show they
do not spring from the imagination.[212]  Careful consideration will assure us of this
for the following reasons;—

20.
Firstly, the clearness of the language varies in
the different kinds of locutions. Those that are divine are so distinct that
the hearer remembers if there were a syllable missing, and what words were made
use of even though a whole sentence was spoken. But if the speech were only a
freak of fancy, it would not be so audible nor would the words be so distinct
but would be only half articulated.[213]

21.
The second reason is that often the person was not thinking of what is heard;
sometimes the locution even comes unexpectedly during conversation, though at
times it refers to some thought that passed quickly through the mind or to a
subject it was before engaged upon. Frequently it concerns things of whose
existence the hearer knew nothing nor even imagined such events could ever come
to pass; therefore it is impossible for the imagination to have framed such
speeches and deceived the mind by fancies about what it had never wished, nor
sought for, nor even thought about.[214]

22.
The third reason is that in a genuine case the soul seems to listen to the
words, whereas when the imagination is at work, little by little it composes
what the person wishes to hear.[215]

23.
The fourth reason is because divine locutions differ immensely from others, a
single word comprising a depth of meaning which our understanding could not
thus quickly condense into one phrase.[216]

24.
Fifthly because, in a manner I cannot explain, these communications, without
any further explanations, frequently give us to understand far more
than is implied by the words themselves. I shall speak farther on of this way
of understanding hidden things which is very subtle and a favour for which we
should thank God. Some people are exceedingly suspicious about these and other
communications of the same kind. I speak particularly of some one[217]  who experienced them herself, though there
may be others who cannot understand them. I know that she has considered the subject
very carefully, God having often bestowed this grace on her. Her principal
difficulty was to discover whether the locutions were merely fancied. It is
easier to know when they come from the devil although being so wily, he can
with facility imitate the spirit of light. However, he would do this in a form
of words pronounced so distinctly that there would be no more doubt as to their
reality than if they came from the spirit of truth, while those coming from the
imagination leave us uncertain whether we heard the words or not. But Satan
could never counterfeit the effects I spoke of;[218]  he leaves neither peace nor light in the
soul, only anxiety and confusion. In any case, he can do little or no harm to
one who is humble and who, as I advised, does not act on what is heard.

25.
If the soul receives favours and caresses from our Lord, let it examine
carefully whether it rates itself more highly in consequence; unless
self-abasement increases with God’s expressions of love, they
do not come from the Holy Spirit. Inevitably, when they are divine, the greater
the favours, the less the soul esteems itself and the more keenly it remembers
its sins.[219]  It becomes more oblivious of self-interest:
the will and memory grow more fervent in seeking solely God’s honour with no
thought of self. It also becomes unceasingly careful not to deviate
deliberately from the will of God and feels a keener conviction that instead of
meriting such favours, it deserves hell.

26.
When these results follow, no graces or gifts received during prayer need alarm
the soul which should rather trust in the mercy of God, Who is faithful and
will not allow the devil to deceive it; but it is always well to be on one’s
guard.

27.
Those our Lord does not lead by this path may suppose that the soul can avoid
listening to these locutions and that even if they are interior it is at least
possible to distract the attention from them so as not to hear them and thus
escape danger. This cannot be done: I am not speaking of freaks of fancy which
may be prevented by ceasing to desire certain things or by paying no attention
to its inventions. This is not feasible when these communications come from the
Holy Ghost Who, when He speaks, stops all other thoughts and compels the mind
to listen.[220]  Mark this: that I believe it would be easier
for a person with very keen ears to avoid hearing a loud voice, for he could
occupy his
thoughts and mind in other things. Not so here; the soul can do nothing, nor
has it ears to stop, nor power to think of aught but what is said to it. For He
Who could stay the sun on its course (at the prayer of Josue,[221]  I believe) can so quiet the faculties and the
interior of the spirit as to make it perceive that another and a stronger Lord
than itself governs this castle; it is thus affected with profound devotion and
humility, seeing that it cannot but listen. May the divine Majesty vouchsafe
that, forgetting ourselves, our only aim may be to please Him, as I said. Amen.
God grant I have succeeded in explaining what I wished and that it may be some
guide to those who may experience such favours.

The Sixth Mansions

Chapter IV.

TREATS
OF HOW GOD SUSPENDS THE SOUL IN PRAYER BY A TRANCE, ECSTASY OR RAPTURE, WHICH I
BELIEVE ARE ALL THE SAME THING. GREAT COURAGE REQUIRED TO RECEIVE EXTRAORDINARY
FAVOURS FROM HIS MAJESTY.

1. Courage required by the soul for the
divine espousals. 2. Raptures. 3. Rapture caused by the spark of love. 4. The
powers and senses absorbed. 5. Mysteries revealed during ecstasies. 6. These
mysteries are unspeakable. 7. Moses and the burning bush. 8. Simile of the
museum. 9. St. Teresa’s visit to the Duchess of Alva. 10. Joy of the soul
during raptures. 11. No imaginary vision. 12. True and false raptures. 13.
Revelations of future bliss. 14. The soul’s preparation. 15. The soul blinded
by its faults. 16. God ready to give these graces to all. 17. Faculties lost
during ecstasy. 18. Spiritual inebriation. 19. Fervour and love of suffering
left in the soul. 20. Scandal caused to spectators by such favours. 21. Our
Lord’s predilection for such a soul. 22. Illusionary raptures.

1.
WHAT rest can the poor little butterfly find, with all the trials I have told
you of and many more? They serve to make her desire the Bride-groom more
ardently. His Majesty, well aware of our weakness, fortifies her by these and
other means in order that she may obtain courage for union with a Lord so great
and may take Him for her Spouse. Perhaps you will laugh and think I am talking
foolishly: there can be no call for courage here; there is no woman, however
low her class, who would not dare to wed a king. So I think, were he an earthly
monarch, but there is need of more fortitude than you suppose in order to
espouse the King of heaven.[222]  Our nature appears too timid and base for
anything so high; without doubt, unless God gave us the grace it would be impossible
for us, however much we might appreciate its benefits. You will learn how His
Majesty ratifies these espousals; probably this is done when He ravishes the
soul by ecstasies, thus depriving it of its faculties; if the use of these were
retained, I think the sight of its close vicinity to so mighty a Sovereign
would probably deprive the body of life. I am speaking of genuine raptures, not
fancies that come from women’s weakness—which so often occur nowadays—making
them imagine everything to be a rapture or an ecstasy. As I think I said, some
are so feebly constituted as to die of a single prayer of quiet.[223]

2.
I should like to describe here several kinds of raptures of which I have learnt
from spiritual persons with whom I have discussed the subject, but I am not
sure whether I shall succeed in explaining them as I did elsewhere.[224]  It has been decided that it will not be amiss
to repeat what was said about these and other things that happen in this state,
if only that I may treat of all the mansions contain in proper order.

3.
In one sort of rapture the soul, although perhaps not engaged in prayer at the
time, is struck by some word of God which it either remembers or hears.[225]  His Majesty, touched with pity by what He has
seen it suffer for so long past in its longing for Him, appears to increase the
spark I described in the interior of the spirit until it entirely inflames the
soul which rises with new life like a phoenix from the flames. Such a one may
piously believe her
sins are now forgiven,[226]
supposing that she is in the disposition and has made use of the means
required by the Church. The soul being thus purified, God unites it to Himself
in a way known only to Him and the spirit, nor does even the latter so
understand what happens as to be able to explain it to others afterwards. Yet
the mind had not lost the use of its faculties, for this ecstasy does not
resemble a swoon or a fit in which nothing either interior or exterior is felt.

4.
What I do understand is that the soul has never been more alive to spiritual
things nor so full of light and of knowledge of His Majesty as it is now. This
might seem impossible; if the powers and senses were so absorbed that we might
call them dead, how does the soul understand this mystery? I cannot tell;
perhaps no one but the Creator Himself can say what passes in these places—I
mean this and the following mansions which may be treated as one, the door
leading from one to the other being wide open. However, as some things in the
last rooms are only shown to those who get thus far, I thought it better to
treat the mansions separately.

5.
While the soul is in this suspension, our Lord favours it by discovering to it
secrets such as heavenly mysteries and imaginary visions, which admit of
description afterwards because they remain so imprinted on the memory that it
never forgets them. But when the visions are intellectual they are not thus
easily related, some of those received at such a
time being so sublime that it is not fitting for man, while living in this
world, to understand them in a way that can be told, although when the use of
the faculties returns much can be described of what was seen in intellectual
vision. Possibly you do not know what a vision is, especially an intellectual
one. Since I have been bidden by one who has authority, I will tell you at the
proper time. Although seemingly superfluous, it may prove useful to certain
people.

6.
’But,’ you will ask me, ‘if the very sublime favours our Lord bestows in this
mansion cannot afterwards be remembered, what profit do they bring?’[227]  O daughters! their value cannot be overrated;
for though the recipient is incapable of describing them, they are deeply
imprinted in the centre of the soul and are never forgotten. ‘How can they be
remembered if no image is seen and the powers of the soul do not comprehend them?’
I, too, do not understand this, but I know that certain truths of the greatness
of God remain so impressed on the spirit by this favour that, did not faith
teach Who He is and that it is bound to believe He is God, the soul would
henceforth worship Him as such, as did Jacob when he saw the ladder.(Gen. xxviii. 2).  Doubtless the Patriarch learnt other secrets
he was unable to reveal, for unless he had received more interior light he
could never have discovered such sublime mysteries merely by watching angels
ascending and descending the steps. I am not certain whether this quotation is
correct; although
I have heard the passage, I cannot feel sure of recalling it exactly.

7.
Neither was Moses able to relate more than God willed of what he had seen in
the burning bush;(Exod. ii 1).  but unless the Almighty had clearly revealed
certain mysteries to his soul, causing it to see and know its God was present,
the lawgiver could never have undertaken so many and such great labours. Such
sublime revelations were shown him amidst the thorns of the bush as to give him
the needful courage for his great deeds on behalf of the Children of Israel. We
must not, sisters, search out reasons for understanding the hidden things of
God, but, believing Him to be Almighty, we should be convinced that such worms
as ourselves, with our limited power of intelligence, are unable to comprehend
His wonders. Let us praise Him fervently for allowing us to understand
something of them.

8.
I wish I could find some simile for my subject: none seem to suit the purpose,
but I will make use of the following. Imagine that you are in an apartment—I
fancy it is termed camarin (or
private museum)—belonging to a king or a great nobleman, in which are placed
numberless kinds of articles of glass, porcelain, and other things, so arranged
that most of them are at once seen on entering the room.

9.
While on a visit to the house of the Duchess of Alva (where at her request I
was bidden by obedience to stay during a journey)[228]  I was taken into
such a room. I stood amazed on entering it and wondered what could be the use
of such a jumble of knick-knacks; then I thought that the sight of so many
different things should lead one to praise God. It is fortunate I saw them, for
they offer me a suitable comparison in this case. Although I was in the room
some time, there were so many objects in it that I forgot what I had seen and
could no more remember each object, nor of what it was made, than if I had
never seen it, though I recalled the sight of the whole collection.

10.
Something of this sort occurs when the spirit is very closely united to God. It
is introduced into this mansion of the empyrean heaven which must be in the
centre of our souls for since God resides in them, He must own one of the
mansions. While the soul is in ecstasy, our Lord does not appear to wish it to
apprehend these mysteries and its inebriation of joy in Him suffices it. But
sometimes He is pleased to withdraw it from this rapture when it at once
perceives what the mansion contains. On returning to itself, the mind can
recall what has been seen but is unable to describe it, nor can it, by its
natural abilities, attain to see more of the supernatural than God has chosen
to show it.

11.
Do I seem to own that the soul really sees something and that this is an
imaginary vision? I mean nothing of the sort: I am speaking of an intellectual
vision, but being so ignorant and dull I can explain nothing and am well aware
that if anything is
rightly stated, it does not come from myself.

12.
I think that if the soul learns no mysteries at any time during raptures, they
are no true raptures but some natural weakness that may occur to people of
delicate constitutions, such as women, when by its strenuous efforts the spirit
overpowers physical nature, and produces stupor, as I think I said in
connection with the prayer of quiet.[229]

13.
This is not so in genuine raptures, for then I believe God ravishes the soul
wholly to Himself, as being His very own and His bride, and shows her some
small part of the kingdom she has thus won. However little this may be, all is
great that is in this great God. He will allow of no obstacle from the powers
or the senses but bids that the doors of all the mansions should be closed at once,
only leaving open the one He is in, so that we may enter it. Blessed be such
mercy—well may men be accursed who do not seek to profit by it, but who
forfeit it!

14.
O, my sisters! what nothingness is all we have given up, or that we do, or ever
could do for a God who thus wills to communicate Himself to a worm! If we hope
to enjoy this favour even during our mortal life, what are we doing? Why do we
delay? What can repay the loss of the time of a ‘Memento’[230]  in searching for this Lord, like the bride
through the streets and squares.(Cant. iii. 2): ‘Per vicos et plateas quæram quem diligit anima mea.’  Oh, what a mockery is everything in this
world that does not lead towards and help us to attain to this state! Even
though all the earthly pleasures, riches, and happiness that can be imagined
could last for eternity, they would be disappointing and base contrasted with
the treasures which are to be enjoyed for ever—and yet even these are nothing compared with the
possession for our own of the Lord of all treasures in heaven and earth.

15.
Oh, human blindness! When, oh, when shall this dust be taken from our eyes?
Although we think it insufficient to blind us, yet I see some little motes or
grains of dust which, if left to spread, will suffice to harm us greatly. At
least, for the love of God, my sisters, let these faults convince us of our
misery, serving to clear our sight as did the clay the eyes of the blind man
who was cured by the Spouse.(St. John ix. 6).  Then, realizing our imperfections, we shall
beg Him more fervently to let us benefit by our defers so as to please Him in
all things.

16.
I have unconsciously wandered far from my subject: forgive me, sisters. Believe
me, when I come to these wonders of God’s greatness (I mean when I come to
speak of them) I cannot but feel keenly grieved at seeing what we lose by our
own fault. It is true that His Majesty grants such favours to whom He chooses;
yet if we sought Him as He seeks us, He would give them to us all. He only
longs for souls on whom He may bestow them, for His gifts do not diminish His
riches.

17.
To return to what I was describing. By the commands of the Bridegroom, the
doors of the mansions and even those of the keep and of the whole castle are
closed; for when He intends ravishing the soul He takes away the power of
speech, and although occasionally the other faculties are retained rather
longer, no word can be uttered.[231]  Sometimes the person is at once deprived of
all the senses, the hands and body becoming as cold as if the soul had fled;
occasionally no breathing can be detected.[232]  This condition lasts but a short while; I
mean in the same degree,[233]  for when this profound suspension diminishes
the body seems to come to itself and gain strength to return again to this death which gives more vigorous life to the soul.

18.
This supreme state of ecstasy never lasts long, but although it ceases, it
leaves the will so inebriated,

[Note:

Christusque nobis sit cibus,

Potusque noster sit fides;

Læti bibamus sobriam

Ebrietatem Spiritus.

Hymn
for Lauds, Feria secunda, old version.

(Compare
Anton. a Sp. S. l.c. tr. iv. n. 30.) ]

and
the mind so transported out of itself that for a day, or sometimes for several
days, such a person is incapable of attending to anything but what excites the
will to the love of God; although
wide awake enough to this, she seems asleep as regards all earthly matters.

19.
Oh, when the soul wholly returns to itself, how abashed does it feel at having
received this favour and how passionate are its desires of serving God in any
way He asks of it! If the former states of prayer caused the powerful effects described,
what will not such a signal grace as this do? Such a person wishes she had a
thousand lives[234]  to spend for God; she would have all earthly
creatures changed into as many tongues to praise Him on her account. She longs
to perform most severe penances,[235]  nor do they cost her much, for the power of
her love almost prevents their being felt. She realizes how little the martyrs
suffered during their tortures, for pain is easy when our Lord thus aids us:
therefore such a soul complains to His Majesty when He gives her no suffering?[236]

20.
She considers it a great favour when God sends her this rapture in secret, for
when others see it the shame and confusion she feels are so great as somewhat
to diminish her transport. Knowing the malice of the world, she fears her
ecstasy will not be attributed to its proper cause but may give rise to rash
judgment instead of the praise due for it to God. Although this pain and
distress are unavoidable, they seem to me to show a certain want of humility,
for if she wished to be despised, what would she care?[237]

21.
Our Lord once said to some one who was troubled by such thoughts: ‘Do not be
disturbed; people will either praise Me or condemn thee; in either case thou
wilt be the gainer.’[238]  I learnt afterwards that she was greatly
encouraged and comforted by this speech; I speak of it in case others may
suffer in the same way. Apparently our Lord would have all men know that this
soul is His own and that none may molest it, for it is all His. Men are welcome
to attack, if they will, the body, the honour, and the possessions of such a
person, for glory will accrue to His Majesty from all they do; but the soul
they may not assail; unless by a most culpable presumption it withdraws from
the protection of its Spouse, He will defend it against the whole world and
against all hell besides.

22.
I do not know whether I have succeeded in teaching you what a rapture is; to
explain it fully would, as I said, be impossible. Still I do not think time has
been lost in describing a genuine rapture. The effects in false raptures are
very different. I do not call them ‘false’ because people who experience them
intentionally deceive others, but because they are themselves unwittingly
deceived. As the signs and effects do not correspond with this great grace, the
favour itself becomes so discredited that naturally, when our Lord afterwards
bestows it on any soul, nobody believes in it. May He be for ever blessed and
praised! Amen, Amen!

The Sixth Mansions

Chapter V.

TREATS
OF THE SAME SUBJECT AS THE LAST CHAPTER AND DESCRIBES THE FLIGHT OF THE SPIRIT,
WHICH IS ANOTHER WAY BY WHICH GOD ELEVATES THE SOUL: THIS REQUIRES GREAT
COURAGE IN ONE EXPERIENCING IT. THIS FAVOUR, BY WHICH GOD GREATLY DELIGHTS THE
SOUL IS EXPLAINED. THIS CHAPTER IS VERY PROFITABLE.

1. The flight of the spirit. 2. Self-control
completely lost. 3. Symbol of the two cisterns. 4. Obligations following these
favours. 5. Humility produced by them. 6. How our crucified Lord comforted such
a soul. 7. A humble soul fears these favours. 8. Mysteries learnt during the
flight of the spirit. 9. Imaginary visions sometimes accompany intellectual
ones. 10. How the flight of the spirit takes place. 11. The soul fortified by
it. 12. Three great graces left in the soul. 13. The third grace. 14. Fear
caused by this favour.

1.
THERE is another form of rapture, which, though essentially the same as the
last, yet produces very different feelings in the soul. I call it the ‘flight
of the spirit,’[239]  for
the soul suddenly feels so rapid a sense of motion that the spirit appears to
hurry it away with a speed which is very alarming, especially at first. Therefore
I said that the soul on whom God bestows this favour requires strong courage,
besides great faith, trust, and resignation, so that God may do what He chooses
with it.

2.
Do you suppose a person in perfect possession of her senses feels but little
dismay at her soul’s being drawn above her, while sometimes, as we read,
even the body rises with it?[240]  She does not know where the spirit is going,
who is raising her, nor how it happens; for at the first instant of this sudden
movement one does not feel sure it is caused by God. Can it possibly be
resisted? No; resistance only accelerates the motion, as some one told me. God
now appears to be teaching the soul, which has so often placed itself
absolutely in His hands and offered itself entirely to Him, that it no longer
belongs to itself; thus it is snatched away more vehemently in consequence of
its opposition. Therefore this person resolved to resist no more than does a
straw when attracted by amber (a thing you may have seen); she yielded herself
into the hands of Him who is Almighty, seeing it is best to make a virtue of
necessity. Speaking of straw, doubtless it is as easy for a stalwart, strapping
fellow to lift a straw as for our mighty and powerful Giant to elevate our
spirit.[241]

3.
It seems that the cistern of water of which I spoke (but I cannot quite
remember where) in the fourth mansion,[242]  was formerly filled gently and quietly,
without any movement; but now this great God Who restrains the springs and the
waters and will not permit the ocean to transgress its bounds,(Prov. viii. 29).  lets loose the streams, which with a powerful
rush flow into the cistern and a mighty wave rises, strong enough to uplift on
high the little vessel of our soul. Neither the ship herself nor her pilot and
sailors can at their choice control the fury of the sea and stop its carrying
the boat where it will: far less can the interior of the soul now stay where it
chooses or force its senses or faculties to act more than He Who holds them in
His dominion decrees; as for the exterior powers, they are here quite useless.

4.
Indeed I am amazed, sisters, while merely writing of this manifestation of the
immense power of this great King and Monarch. Then what must be felt by those
who actually experience it? I am convinced that if His Majesty were to reveal
Himself thus to the greatest sinners on earth, they would never dare to offend
Him again—if not through love at least through fear of Him. What obligations
bind those taught in so sublime a manner to strive with all their might not to
displease such a Master! In His Name I beg of you, sisters, who have received
these or the like favours, not to rest content with merely receiving them but
to remember that she who owes much has much to pay.(St. Luke xii. 48): ‘Cui
multum datum est, multum quaeretur ab eo, et cui commendaverunt multum, plus
petent ab eo.’

5.
This thought terrifies the soul exceedingly: unless
the great courage needed was given it by our Lord, it would suffer great and
constant grief; for looking first at what His Majesty has done for it and then
upon itself, it sees how little good it has performed compared with what it was
bound to do, and that the paltry service it has rendered was full of faults,
failures and tepidity. To efface the remembrance of the many imperfections of
all its good deeds (if indeed it has ever performed any) it thinks best to
forget them altogether and to be ever mindful of its sins, casting itself on
the mercy of God since it cannot repay its debt to Him and begging for the pity
and compassion He ever shows to sinners.

6.
Perhaps He will answer as He did to some one who was kneeling before a crucifix
in great affliction on this account, for she felt she had never had anything to
offer God nor to sacrifice for His sake. The Crucified One consoled her by
saying that He gave her for herself all the pains and labours He had borne in
His passion, that she might offer them as her own to His Father.[243]  I learnt from her that she at once felt
comforted and enriched by these words which she never forgets but recalls whenever
she realizes her own wretchedness and feels encouraged and consoled. I could
relate several other incidents of the same kind learnt in conversation with
many holy people much given to prayer, but I will not recount them lest you
might imagine they relate to myself.

7.
I think this example is very instructive; it shows
that we please our Lord by self-knowledge, by the constant recollection of our
poverty and miseries, and by realizing that we possess nothing but what we have
received from Him.(1 Cor. iv. 7): ‘Quid autem habes quod non accepisti?’  Therefore courage is needed, sisters, in
order to receive this and many other favours which come to a soul elevated to
this state by our Lord; I think that if the soul is humble it requires more
valour than ever for this last mercy. May God grant us humility for His Name’s
sake.

8.
To return to this sudden rapture of the spirit. The soul really appears to have
quitted the body, which however is not lifeless, and though, on the other hand,
the person is certainly not dead, yet she herself cannot, for a few seconds,
tell whether her spirit remains within her body or not.(2 Cor. xii. 2): ‘Sive in
corpore nescio, sive extra corpus nescio, Deus scit.’  She feels that she has been wholly transported
into another and a very different region from that in which we live, where a
light so unearthly is shown[244]  that, if during her whole lifetime she had
been trying to picture it and the wonders seen, she could not possibly have
succeeded. In an instant her mind learns so many things at once that if the
imagination and intellect spent years in striving to enumerate them, it could
not recall a thousandth part of them.

9.
This vision is not intellectual but imaginary and is seen by the eyes of the
soul more clearly than
earthly things are seen by our bodily eyes. Although no words are pronounced,
the spirit is taught many truths; for instance, if it beholds any of the
saints, it knows them at once as well as if intimately acquainted with them for
years.[245]  Occasionally, besides what the eyes of the
soul perceive in intellectual vision, other things are shown it. In an
imaginary vision it usually sees our Lord accompanied by a host of angels; yet
neither the bodily eyes nor the eyes of the soul[246]  see anything, for these visions and many
other things impossible to describe, are revealed by some wonderful intuition
that I cannot explain. Perhaps those who have experienced this favour and
possess more ability than myself may be able to describe it, although it seems
to me a most difficult task.

10.
I cannot tell whether the soul dwells in the body meanwhile or not: I would
neither affirm that it does nor that the body is deprived of it. I have often
thought that as, though the sun does not leave his place in the heavens yet his
rays have power to reach the earth instantaneously, so the soul and the spirit,
which make one and the same thing (like the sun and its rays) may, while
remaining in its own place, through the strength of the ardour coming to it
from the true Sun of Justice, send up some higher part of it above itself. In
fact I do not understand what I am talking about, but the truth is that, with
the swiftness of a bullet fired from
a gun, an upward flight takes place in the interior of the soul. (I know no
other name for it but ‘flight.’) Although noiseless, it is too manifest a
movement to be any illusion[247]  and
the soul is quite outside itself; at least that is the impression made upon it.
Great mysteries are revealed to it meanwhile, and when the person returns to
consciousness she is so greatly benefited that she holds all this world’s goods
as filth compared with what she has seen. Henceforth earthly life is grievous
to her and what used to please her now remains uncared for and
unnoticed.[248]

11.
Those children of Israel who were sent on first to the Land of Promise brought
back tokens from it;(Num. xiii. 24).  so here our Lord seems to seek to show the
soul something of the land to which it is travelling, to give it courage to
pass through the trials of its painful journey, now that it knows where it must
go to find rest. You may fancy that such profit could not thus quickly be
obtained, yet only those who have experienced what signal benefits this
favour leaves in the soul can realize its value.

12.
This clearly shows it to be no work of the devil; neither the imagination nor
the evil one could represent what leaves such peace, calm, and good fruits in
the soul, and particularly the following three graces of a very high order.[249]  The first of these is a perception of the
greatness of God which becomes clearer to us as we witness more of it.
Secondly, we gain self-knowledge and humility from seeing how creatures so base
as ourselves in comparison with the Creator of such wonders have dared to
offend Him in the past or venture to gaze on Him now.

13.
The third grace is a contempt for all earthly things unless they are
consecrated to the service of so great a God. With such jewels the Bridegroom
begins to deck His Bride; they are too valuable for her to keep them
carelessly.[250]  These visions are so deeply engraved in her
memory that I believe she can never forget them until she enjoys them for
evermore, for to do so would be the greatest misfortune.[251]  But the Spouse Who gave her these gifts has
power to give her grace not to lose them.

14.
I told you that courage was required by the soul, for do you think it is a
trifling matter for the spirit to feel literally separated from the body, as it
does when perceiving that it is losing its senses without understanding the
reason? There is need that
He Who gives all the rest should include fortitude. You will say this fright is
well rewarded, and so say I. May He Who can bestow such graces be for ever
praised and may His Majesty vouchsafe that we may be worthy to serve Him. Amen.

The Sixth Mansions

Chapter VI.

DESCRIBES
AN EFFECT WHICH PROVES THE PRAYER SPOKEN OF IN THE LAST CHAPTER TO BE GENUINE
AND NO DECEPTION, TREATS OF ANOTHER FAVOUR OUR LORD BESTOWS ON THE SOUL TO MAKE
IT PRAISE HIM FERVENTLY.

1. The soul longs for death. 2. The soul
cannot help desiring these favours. 3. St. Teresa bewails her inability to
serve God. 3. Fervour resulting from ecstasies. 5. Excessive desires to see God
should be restrained. 6. They endanger health. 7. Tears often come from Physical
causes. 8. St. Teresa’s own experience. 9. Works, not tears, are asked by God.
10. Confide entirely in God. 11. The jubilee of the soul. 12. Impossibility of
concealing this joy. 13. The world’s judgment of this jubilee. 14. Which is
often felt by the nuns of St. Joseph’s. 15. The Saint’s delight in this jubilee.

1.
THESE sublime favours leave the soul so desirous of fully enjoying Him Who has
bestowed them that life becomes a painful though delicious torture, and death
is ardently longed for. Such a one often implores God with tears to take her
from this exile where everything she sees wearies her.[252]  Solitude alone brings great alleviation for a
time, but soon her grief returns and yet she cannot bear to be without it. In
short, this poor little butterfly can find no lasting rest. So tender is her
love that at the slightest provocation it flames forth and the soul takes
flight. Thus in this mansion raptures occur
very frequently, nor can they be resisted even in public. Persecutions and
slanders ensue;[253]  however she may try, she cannot keep free
from the fears suggested to her by so many people, especially by her
confessors.

2.
Although in one way she feels great confidence within her soul, especially when
alone with God, yet on the other hand, she is greatly troubled by misgivings
lest she is deceived by the devil and so should offend Him Whom she deeply
loves. She cares little for blame, except when her confessor finds fault with
her as if she could help what happens. She asks every one to pray for her[254]  since she has been told to do so, and begs
His Majesty to direct her by some other way than this which is so full of
danger. Nevertheless, so great are the benefits left by these favours that she
cannot but see that they lead her on the way to heaven,[255]  of which she has read and heard and learnt in
the law of God. As, strive how she may, she cannot resist desiring to receive
these graces, she resigns herself into God’s hands. Yet she is grieved at
finding herself forced to wish for these favours which appears to be
disobedience to her confessor, for she believes that in obedience, and in
avoiding any offence against God, lies her safeguard against deception. Thus
she feels she would prefer to be cut in pieces rather than wilfully commit a
venial sin, yet is greatly grieved at seeing that she cannot avoid unwittingly
falling into a great number.
God bestows on such people so intense a desire neither ever to displease Him in
however small a matter, nor to commit any avoidable imperfection, that, were
there no other reason, they would try to avoid society and they greatly envy
those who live in deserts.[256]  On the other hand, they seek to live amidst
men in the hopes of helping if but one soul to praise God better.[257]  In the case of a woman, she grieves over the
impediment offered by her sex[258]  and envies those who are free to proclaim
aloud to all Who is this mighty God of hosts.[259]

3.
O poor little butterfly! chained by so many fetters that stop thee from flying
where thou wouldst! Have pity on her, O my God, and so dispose her ways that
she may be able to accomplish some of her desires for Thy honour and glory!
Take no account of the poverty of her merits, nor of the vileness of her
nature, Lord, Thou Who hast the power to compel the vast ocean to retire, and
didst force the wide river Jordan to draw back so that the Children of Israel
might pass through!(Ps. cxiii. 3); (Exod. xiv. 1) and (Jos. iii. 1)  Yet spare her not, for aided by Thy strength
she can endure many trials. She is resolved to do so—she desires to suffer
them. Stretch forth Thine arm, O Lord, to help her lest she waste her life on
trifles! Let Thy greatness appear in this Thy creature, womanish and weak as
she is, so that men, seeing the good in her is not her own, may praise Theefor
it! Let it cost her what it may and as dear as she desires, for she longs to
lose a thousand lives to lead one soul to praise Thee but a little better. If
as many lives were hers to give, she would count them well spent in such a
cause, knowing as a truth most certain that she is unworthy to bear the
lightest cross, much less to die for Thee.

4.
I cannot tell why I have said this, sisters, nor what made me do so; indeed I
never intended it. You must know that these effects are bound to follow from
such trances or ecstasies: they are not transient, but permanent desires; when
opportunity occurs of acting on them, they prove genuine. How can I say that
they are permanent, when at times the soul feels cowardly in the most trivial
matters and too timorous to undertake any work for God?

5.
I believe it is because our Lord, for its greater good, then leaves the soul to
its natural weakness, which at once convinces it so thoroughly that any
strength it possessed came from His Majesty as to destroy its self-love,
enduing it with a greater knowledge of the mercy and greatness of God which He
deigned to show forth in one so vile. However, the soul is usually in the
former state. Beware of one thing, sisters; these ardent desires to behold our
Lord are sometimes so distressing as to need rather to be checked than to be
encouraged—that is, if feasible, for in another kind of prayer of which I
shall speak later, it is not possible as you will see.

6.
In the state I speak of these longings can sometimes be arrested, for the
reason is at liberty to
conform to the will of God and can quote the words of St. Martin;[260]  should these desires become very oppressive,
the thoughts may be turned to some other matter. As such longings are generally
found in persons far advanced in perfection, the devil may excite them in order
to make us think we are of their number—in any case it is well to be cautious.
For my part, I do not believe he could cause the calm and peace given by this
pain to the soul, but would disturb it by such uneasiness as we feel when
afflicted concerning any worldly matter. A person inexperienced in both kinds
of sorrow cannot understand the difference, but thinking such grief an
excellent thing, will excite it as much as possible which greatly injures the
health, as these longings are incessant or at least very frequent.

7.
You must also notice that bodily weakness may cause such pain, especially with
people of sensitive characters who cry over every trifling trouble.[261]  Times without number do they imagine they are
mourning for God’s sake when they are doing no such thing. If for a
considerable space of time, whenever such a person hears the least mention of
God or thinks of Him at all, these fits of uncontrollable weeping
occur,[262]  the cause may be an accumulation of humour
round the heart, which has a great deal more to do with such tears than has the
love of God. Such persons seem as if they would never stop crying: believing
that tears are beneficial, they do not try to check them nor to distract their
minds from the subject, but encourage them as much as possible. The devil
seizes this opportunity of weakening nuns so that they become unable to pray or
to keep their Rule.

8.
I think you must be puzzling over this and would like to ask what I would have
you do, as I see danger in everything. If I am afraid of delusions in so good a
thing as tears, perhaps I myself am deluded, and may be I am! But believe me, I
do not say this without having witnessed it in other people although not in my
own case, for there is nothing tender about me and my heart is so hard as often
to grieve me.[263]  However, when the fire burns fiercely within,
stony as my heart may be, it distils like an alembic.[264]  It is easy to know when tears come from this
source, for they are soothing and gentle rather than stormy and rarely do any
harm. This delusion, when it is one, has the advantage, with a humble person,
of only injuring the body and not the soul. But if one is not humble, it is
well to be ever on one’s guard.

9.
Let us not fancy that if we cry a great deal we have done all that is
needed—rather we must work
hard and practise the virtues: that is the essential—leaving tears to fall
when God sends them, without trying to force ourselves to shed them. Then, if
we do not take too much notice of them, they will leave the parched soil of our
souls well watered, making it fertile in good fruit; for this is the water
which falls from heaven.[265]  However we may tire ourselves in digging to
reach it, we shall never get any water like this; indeed, we may often work and
search until we are exhausted without finding as much as a pool, much less a
springing well!

10.
Therefore, sisters, I think it best for us to place ourselves in the presence
of God, contemplate His mercy and grandeur and our own vileness and leave Him
to give us what He will, whether water or drought, for He knows best what is
good for us; thus we enjoy peace and the devil will have less chance to deceive
us.

11.
Amongst these favours, at once painful and pleasant, Our Lord sometimes causes
in the soul a certain jubilation[266]  and a strange and mysterious kind of prayer.
If He bestows this grace on you, praise Him fervently for it; I describe it so
that you may know that it is something real. I believe that the faculties of
the soul are closely united to God but that He leaves them at liberty to
rejoice in their happiness together with the senses, although they do not know
what they are enjoying nor how they do so. This may sound nonsense but it
really happens.
So excessive is its jubilee that the soul will not enjoy it alone but speaks of
it to all around so that they may help it to praise God, which is its one
desire.[267]

12.
Oh, what rejoicings would this person utter and what demonstrations would she
make, if possible, so that all might know her happiness! She seems to have
found herself again and wishes, like the father of the prodigal son, to invite
all her friends to feast with her(St. Luke xv. 23).  and to see her soul in its rightful place,
because (at least for the time being) she cannot doubt its security. I believe
she is right, for the devil could not possibly infuse a joy and peace into the
very centre of her being which make her whole delight consist in urging others
to praise God. It requires a painful effort to keep silent and to dissemble
such impulsive happiness. St. Francis must have experienced this when, as the
robbers met him rushing through the fields crying aloud, he told them in answer
to their questions that he was the ‘herald of the great King.’[268]  So felt other saints who retired into the
deserts so that, like St. Francis, they might proclaim the praises of their
God.

13.
I knew Fray Peter of Alcantara who used to do this. I believe he was a saint on
account of the life he led, yet people often took him for a fool when they
heard him.[269]  Oh happy folly, sisters! Would that God might
let us all share it! What mercy He has shown you in placing you where, if He
gave you this grace and it were perceived by others, it would rather turn to
your advantage than bring on you contempt as it would do in the world, where
men so rarely hear God praised that it is no wonder they take scandal at it.

14.
Oh miserable times and wretched life spent in the world! How blest are those
whose happy lot it is to be freed from them![270]  It often delights me, when in my sisters’
company to see how the joy of their hearts is so great that they vie with one
another in praising our Lord for placing them in this convent: it is evident
that their praises come from the very depths of their souls. I should like you
to do this often, sisters, for when one begins she incites the rest to imitate
her. How can your tongues be better employed when you are together than in
praising God, Who has given us so much cause for it?

15.
May His Majesty often grant us this kind of prayer which is most safe and
beneficial; we cannot acquire it for ourselves as it is quite supernatural. Sometimes it lasts for
a whole day and the soul is like one inebriated, although not deprived of the
senses;[271]  nor like a person afflicted with melancholia,[272]  in which, though the reason is not entirely
lost, the imagination continually dwells on some subject which possesses it and
from which it cannot be freed. These are coarse comparisons to make in
connection with such a precious gift, yet nothing else occurs to my mind. In
this state of prayer a person is rendered by this jubilee so forgetful of self
and everything else that she can neither think nor speak of anything but
praising God, to which her joy prompts her. Let us all of us join her, my
daughters, for why should we wish to be wiser than she? What can make us
happier? And may all creatures unite their praises with ours for ever and ever.
Amen, amen, amen!

The Sixth Mansions

Chapter VII.

DESCRIBES
THE GRIEF FELT ON ACCOUNT OF THEIR SINS BY SOULS ON WHOM GOD HAS BESTOWED THE
BEFORE-MENTIONED FAVOURS. SHOWS THAT HOWEVER SPIRITUAL A PERSON MAY BE, IT IS A
GREAT ERROR NOT TO KEEP BEFORE OUR MIND THE HUMANITY OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR
JESUS CHRIST AND HIS SACRED PASSION AND LIFE, AS ALSO THE GLORIOUS MOTHER OF
GOD AND THE SAINTS. THE BENEFITS GAINED BY SUCH A MEDITATION. THIS CHAPTER IS
MOST PROFITABLE.

1. Sorrow for sin felt by souls in the Sixth
Mansion. 2. How this sorrow is felt. 3. St. Teresa’s grief for her past sins.
4. Such souls, centred in God, forget self-interest. 5. The remembrance of
divine benefits increases contrition. 6. Meditation on our Lord’s Humanity. 7.
Warning against discontinuing it. 8. Christ and the saints our models. 9.
Meditation of contemplatives. 10. Meditation during aridity. 11. We must search
for God when we do not feel His presence. 12. Reasoning and mental prayer. 13.
A form of meditation on our Lord’s Life and Passion. 14. Simplicity of
contemplatives’ meditation. 15. Souls in every state of prayer should think of
the Passion. 16. Need of the example of Christ and the saints. 17. Faith shows
us our Lord as both God and St. Teresa’s experience of meditation on
the sacred Humanity. 19. Evil of giving up such meditation.

1.
IT may seem to you, sisters, that souls to whom God has communicated Himself in
such a special manner may feel so sure of enjoying Him for ever as no longer to
require to fear or to mourn over their past sins. Those of you will be most apt
to hold this opinion who have never received the like favours; souls to whom
God has granted these graces
will understand what I say. This is a great mistake, for sorrow for sin
increases in proportion to the divine grace received and I believe will never
quit us until we come to the land where nothing can grieve us any more.
Doubtless we feel this pain more at one time than at another and it is of a
different kind. A soul so advanced as that we speak of does not think of the
punishment threatening its offences but of its great ingratitude towards Him to
Whom it owes so much[273]  and Who so justly deserves that it should
serve Him, for the sublime mysteries revealed have taught it much about the
greatness of God.

2.
This soul wonders at its former temerity and weeps over its irreverence; its
foolishness in the past seems a madness which it never ceases to lament as it
remembers for what vile things it forsook so great a Sovereign. The thoughts
dwell on this more than on the favours received, which, like those I am about
to describe, are so powerful that they seem to rush through the soul at times
like a strong, swift river. Yet the sins remain like the mire in the river bed
and dwell constantly in the memory, making a heavy cross to bear.

3.
I know some one who, though she had ceased to wish for death in order to see
God,[274]  yet desired it that she might be freed from
her continual regret for her past ingratitude towards Him to Whom she owed, and
always would owe, so much. She thought no one’s guilt could be compared to her
own, for she felt there could be none with whom God had borne so patiently nor on
whom He had bestowed such graces.

4.
Souls that have reached the state I speak of have ceased to fear hell. At
times, though very rarely, they grieve keenly over the possibility of their
losing God; their sole dread is lest He should withdraw His hand, allowing them
to offend Him, and so they might return to their former miserable condition.
They care nothing for their own pain or glory; if they are anxious not to stay
long in Purgatory, it is more on account of its keeping them from the Presence
of God than because of its torments. Whatever favours God may have shown a
soul, I think it is dangerous for it to forget the unhappy state it was once
in; painful as the remembrance may be, it is most beneficial.

5.
Perhaps I think so because I have been so wicked and that may be the reason why
I never forget my sins; people who have led good lives have no cause for grief;
yet we always fall at times whilst living in this mortal body. This pain is not
lessened by reflecting that our Lord has already forgiven and forgotten our
faults; our grief is rather increased at seeing such kindness and favours
bestowed on one who deserves nothing but hell. I think St. Paul and the
Magdalen must thus have suffered a cruel martyrdom;[275]  their love was intense, they had received
many mercies and realized the greatness and the majesty of God and so must have
found it very hard to bear the remembrance of
their sins, which they must have regretted with a most tender sorrow.

6.
You may fancy that one who has enjoyed such high favours need not meditate on
the mysteries of the most sacred Humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ but will be
wholly absorbed in love. I have written fully about this elsewhere.[276]  I have been contradicted and told that I was
wrong and did not understand the matter; that our Lord guides souls in such a
way that after having made progress it is best to exercise oneself in matters
concerning the Godhead and to avoid what is corporeal; yet nothing will make me
admit that this latter is a good way.

7.
I may be mistaken; we may all really mean the same thing but I found the devil
was trying to lead me astray in this manner. Having been warned by experience
in this respell, I have decided to speak again about it here although I have
very often done so elsewhere.[277]  Be most cautious on the subject; attend to
what I venture to say about it and do not believe any one who tells you the
contrary. I will endeavour to explain myself more clearly than I did before. If
the person who undertook to write on the matter had treated it more explicitly
he would have done well, for it may do much harm to speak of it in general
terms to us women, who have scanty wits.

8.
Some souls imagine they cannot meditate even on the Passion, still less on the
most blessed Virgin or on the saints, the memory of whose lives greatly benefits
and strengthens us.[278]  I cannot think what such persons are to
meditate upon, for to withdraw the thoughts from all corporeal things like the
angelic spirits who are always inflamed with love, is not possible for us while
in this mortal flesh; we need to study, to meditate upon and to imitate those
who, mortals like ourselves, performed such heroic deeds for God. How much less
should we wilfully endeavour to abstain from thinking of our only good and
remedy, the most sacred Humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ? I cannot believe
that any one really does this; they misunderstand their own minds and so harm
both themselves and others. Of this at least I can assure them: they will never
thus enter the last two mansions of the castle. If they lose their Guide, our
good Jesus, they cannot find the way and it will be much if they have stayed
safely in the former mansions. Our Lord Himself tells us that He is ‘the Way’;
He also says that He is ‘the Light’; that no man cometh to the Father but by
Him; and that ‘He that seeth Me, seeth the Father also.’(St. John viii. 12); xiv. 6,
9.

9.
Such persons tell us that these words have some other meaning; I know of no
other meaning but this, which my soul has ever recognized as the true one and
which has always suited me right well. Some people (many of whom have spoken to
me on the subject) after our Lord has once raised them to perfect
contemplation, wish to enjoy it continually. This is impossible; still, the
grace of this state remains in their souls in such a way that they cannot
reason as before on the mysteries of the Passion and the Life of Christ. I
cannot account for it but it is very usual for the mind thus to remain less apt
for meditation. I think it must be because, as the one end of meditation is to
seek God, after He has once been found and the soul is accustomed to seek Him
again by means of the will, it no longer wearies itself by searching for Him
with the intellect.

10.
It also appears to me that as the will is already inflamed with love, this
generous faculty would, if it could, cease to make use of the reason. This
would be well, were it not impossible, especially before the soul has reached
the last two mansions.[279]  Time spent in prayer would thus be lost as
the will often needs the use of the understanding to rekindle its love. Notice
this point, sisters, which as it is important I will explain more fully. Such a
soul desires
to spend all its time in loving God and wishes to do nothing else; but it
cannot succeed, for though the will is not dead yet the flame which kindled it
is dying out and the spark needs fanning into a glow. Ought the soul to remain
quiescent in this aridity, waiting like our father Elias for fire to descend
from heaven[280]  to consume the sacrifice which it makes of
itself to God? Certainly not; it is not right to expect miracles; God will work
them for this soul when He chooses. As I have told you already and shall do
again, His Majesty wishes us to hold ourselves unworthy of their being wrought
on our account and desires us to help ourselves to the best of our abilities.

11.
In my opinion we ought during our whole life, to act in this manner, however
sublime our prayer may be. True, those whom our Lord admits into the seventh
mansion rarely or never need thus to help their fervour, for the reason I will
tell you of; if I recollect it when I come to write of this room where, in a
wonderful manner, souls are constantly in the company of Christ our Lord both
in His Humanity and His Divinity.[281]  Thus, when the fire in our hearts, of which I
spoke does not burn in the will, nor do we feel the presence of God, we must
search for Him as He would have us do, like the Bride in the Canticles,[282]  and must ask all creatures ‘who it was that
made them;’ as St. Augustine (either in his Soliloquies
or his Confessions) tells us that he
did.[283]  Thus we shall not stand like blockheads,
wasting our time in waiting for what we before enjoyed. At first, it may be
that our Lord will not renew His gift again for a year or even for many years;
His Majesty knows the reason which we should not try to discover since there is
no need for us to understand it.

12.
As most certainly the way to please God is to keep the commandments and
counsels, let us do so diligently, while meditating on His life and death and
all we owe Him; then let the rest be as God chooses. Some may answer that their
mind refuses to dwell on these subjects; and for the above causes, this to a
certain extent is true. You know that it is one thing to reason and another
thing for the memory to bring certain truths before the mind. Perhaps you may
not understand me; possibly I fail to express myself rightly but I will do my best.
Using the understanding much in this manner is what I call meditation.

13.
Let us begin by considering the mercy God showed us by giving us His only Son;
let us not stop here but go on to reflect upon all the mysteries of His
glorious life; or let us first turn our thoughts to His prayer in the garden,
then allow them to continue the subject until they reach the crucifixion. Or we
may take some part of the Passion such as Christ’s apprehension and dwell on
this mystery, considering in detail the points to be pondered and thought over,
such as the treachery of Judas, the flight of the Apostles, and all that
followed. This is an admirable and very meritorious kind of prayer.[284]

14.
Souls led by God in supernatural ways and raised to perfect contemplation are
right in declaring they cannot practise this kind of meditation. As I said, I
know not why, but as a rule they are unable to do so. Yet they would be wrong
in saying that they cannot dwell on these mysteries nor frequently think about
them, especially when these events are being celebrated by the Catholic Church.
Nor is it possible for the soul which has received so much from God to forget
these precious proofs of His love which are living sparks to inflame the heart with
greater love for our Lord, nor can the mind fail to understand them. Such a
soul comprehends these mysteries, which are brought before the mind and stamped
on the memory in a more perfect way than with other people, so that the mere
sight of our Lord prostrate in
the garden, covered with His terrible sweat, suffices to engross the thoughts
not merely for an hour but for several days. The soul looks with a simple gaze
upon Who He is and how ungratefully we treat Him in return for such terrible
sufferings. Then the will, although perhaps without sensible tenderness,
desires to render Him some service for such sublime mercies and longs to suffer
something for Him Who bore so much for us, employing itself in similar
considerations in which the memory and understanding also take their part.

15.
I think this is why such souls cannot reason connectedly about the Passion and
fancy they are unable to mediate on it. Those who do not meditate on this
subject had better begin to do so; for I know that it will not impede the most
sublime prayer nor is it well to omit praising this often. If God then sees fit
to enrapture them, well and good; even if they are reluctant, He will make them
cease to meditate. I am certain that this way of king is most helpful to the soul
and not the hindrance it would become were great efforts made to use the
intellect. This, as I said, I believe cannot be done when a higher state of
prayer is attained. It may be otherwise in some cases, for God leads souls in
many different ways. Let not those be blamed, however, who are unable to
discourse much in prayer, nor should they be judged incapable of enjoying the
great graces contained in the mysteries of Jesus Christ, our only Good, which
no one, however spiritual he may be, can persuade me it is well to omit
contemplating. 16.
There are souls who, having made a beginning, or advanced half-way, when they
begin to experience the prayer of quiet and to taste the sweetness and
consolations God gives, think it is a great thing to enjoy these spiritual
pleasures continually. Let them, as I advised elsewhere, cease to give
themselves up so much to this absorption. Life is long and full of crosses and
we have need to look on Christ our pattern, to see how He bore His trials, and
even to take example by His Apostles and saints if we would bear our own trials
perfectly. Our good Jesus and His most blessed Mother are too good company to
be left and He is well pleased if we grieve at His pains, even though sometimes
at the cost of our own consolations and joys.[285]
Besides, daughters, consolations are not so frequent in prayer that we
have no time for this as well. If any one should tell me she continually enjoys
them, and that she is one of those who can never meditate on the divine
mysteries, I should feel very doubtful about her state. Be convinced of this;
keep free from this deception and to the utmost of your power stop yourselves
from being constantly immersed in this intoxication. If you cannot do so, tell
the Prioress so that she may employ you too busily for you to think of the
matter; thus you will be free from this danger which, if it does no more, when
it lasts long, greatly injures the health and brain. I have said enough to
prove to those who require it that, however spiritual their state, it is an
error so to avoid thinking of corporeal things as
to imagine that meditation on the most sacred Humanity can injure the soul.

17.
People allege, in defence, that our Lord told His disciples that it was expedient
for them that He should go from them.(St. John xvi. 7): ‘Expedit vobis ut ego vadam;
si enim non abiero, Paraclitus non veniet ad vos.’ Life, ch. xxii. 1, 2 and note.  This I cannot admit. He did not say so to His
blessed Mother, for her faith was firm. She knew He was both God and man; and
although she loved Him more dearly than did His disciples, it was in so perfect
a way that His bodily presence was a help to her. The faith of the Apostles
must have been weaker than it was later on, and than ours has reason to be. I
assure you, daughters, that I consider this a most dangerous idea whereby the
devil might end by robbing us of our devotion to the most blessed Sacrament.

18.
The mistake I formerly made[286]  did not lead me as far as this, but I did not
care so much about meditating on our Lord Jesus Christ, preferring to remain
absorbed, awaiting spiritual consolations. I recognized clearly that I was
going wrong, for as I could not always keep in this state, my thoughts wandered
hither and thither and my soul seemed like a bird, ever flying about and
finding no place for rest. Thus I lost much time and did not advance in virtue
nor make progress in prayer.

19.
I did not understand the reason, and as I believed that I was acting wisely I
think I should never have learnt it but for the advice of a servant of
God whom I consulted about my mode of prayer. Then I perceived plainly how
mistaken I had been and I have never ceased regretting that there was a time
when I did not realize how difficult it would be to gain by so great a loss.
Even if I could, I would seek for nothing save by Him through Whom comes all
the good we possess. May He be for ever praised! Amen.

The Sixth Mansions

Chapter VIII.

SPEAKS
OF THE MANNER IN WHICH GOD COMMUNICATES WITH THE SOUL BY INTELLECTUAL VISION
AND GIVES ADVICE UPON THE SUBJECT. OF THE EFFECTS PRODUCED BY THIS VISION WHEN
GENUINE. SECRECY ABOUT THESE FAVOURS IS ENJOINED.

1. Our Lord’s presence accompanying the
soul. 2. St. Teresa’s experience of this. 3. Confidence and graces resulting
from this vision. 4. Its effects . 5. It Produces humility. 6. And prepares the
soul for other graces. 7. Consciousness of the presence of the saints. 8.
Obligations resulting from this grace. 9. Signs that this favour is genuine.
10. A confessor should be consulted. 11. Our Lord will enlighten our advisers.
12. Cautions about this vision.

1.
To prove to you more clearly, sisters, the truth of what I have been saying and
to show that the more the soul advances, the closer does this good Jesus bear
it company, it would be well for me to tell you how, when He so chooses, it
cannot withdraw from His presence. This is clearly shown by the manners and
ways in which His Majesty communicates Himself to us, manifesting His love by
wonderful apparitions and visions which, if He is pleased to aid me, I will
describe to you so that you may not be alarmed if any of these favours are
granted you. We ought, even if we do not receive them
ourselves, to praise Him fervently for thus communing with creatures, seeing
how sovereign are His majesty and power.

2.
For example, a person who is in no way expecting such a favour nor has ever
imagined herself worthy of receiving it, is conscious that Jesus Christ stands
by her side although she sees Him neither with the eyes of the body nor of the
soul.[287]  This is called an intellectual vision; I
cannot tell why. I knew a person to whom God granted both this grace and others
I shall describe later on. At first it distressed her, for she could not understand
it; she could see nothing, yet so convinced did she feel that Jesus Christ was
thus in some way manifesting Himself that she could not doubt that it was some
kind of vision, whether it came from God or no. Its powerful effects were a
strong argument that it was from Him; still she was alarmed, never having heard
of an intellectual vision, nor was she aware that such a thing could be. She
however felt certain of our Lord’s presence,[288]  and He spoke to her several times in the way
that I described. Before she had received this favour, she had heard words
spoken but had never known who uttered them.

3.
She was frightened by this vision which, unlike an imaginary one, does not pass
away quickly but lasts for several days and even sometimes for more than a
year. She went, in a state of great anxiety, to her confessor[289]  who asked her how, if she saw nothing,
she knew that our Lord was near her, and bade her describe His appearance. She
said that she was unable to do so, nor could she see His face nor tell more
than she had already done, but that she was sure it was the fact that it was He
Who spoke to her and it was no trick of her imagination. Although people
constantly cautioned her against this vision, as a rule she found it impossible
to disbelieve in it, especially when she heard the words: ‘It is I, be not
afraid’[290]

4.
The effect of this speech was so powerful that for the time being she could not
doubt its truth. She felt much encouraged and rejoiced at being in such good
company, seeing that this favour greatly helped her to a constant recollection
of God and an extreme care not to displease in any way Him Who seemed ever by
her side, watching her. Whenever she desired to speak to His Majesty in prayer,
or even at other times, He seemed so close that He could not fail to hear her
though He did not speak to her whenever she wished, but unexpectedly, when
necessity arose. She was conscious of His being at her right hand, although not
in the way we know an ordinary person to be beside us but in a more subtle
manner which cannot be described. Yet this presence is quite as evident and
certain, and indeed far more so, than the ordinary presence of other people
about which we may be deceived; not so in this, for it brings with it graces
and spiritual effects which could not come from melancholia. Nor could the
devil thus fill the soul with peace, with
a constant desire to please God, and such utter contempt of all that does not
lead to Him. As time went on, my friend recognized that this was no work of the
evil one, as our Lord showed her more and more clearly.

5.
However, I know that she often felt great alarm and was at times overcome with
confusion, being unable to account for so high a favour having been granted
her. She and I were so very intimate[291]  that I knew all that passed in her soul,
hence my account is thoroughly true and reliable. This favour brings with it an
overwhelming sense of self-abasement and humility; the reverse would be the
case, did it come from Satan.[292]  It is evidently divine; no human effort could
produce such feelings nor could any one suppose that such profit came from
herself, but must needs recognize it as a gift from the hand of God.

6.
Although I believe some of the former favours are more sublime, yet this brings
with it a special knowledge of God; a most tender love for Him results from
being constantly in His company, while the desires of devoting one’s whole
being to His service are more fervent than any hitherto described. The
conscience is greatly purified by the knowledge of His perpetual and near
presence, for although we know that God sees all we do, yet nature inclines us
to grow careless and forgetful of it. This is impossible here since our Lord
makes the soul conscious that He is close at hand, thus preparing it to receive
the other graces mentioned by
constantly making acts of love to Him Whom it sees or feels at its side. In
short, the benefits caused by this grace prove how great and how valuable it
is. The soul thanks our Lord for bestowing it on one unworthy of it, but who
would refuse to exchange it for any earthly riches or delight.

7.
When our Lord chooses to withdraw His presence, the soul in its loneliness
makes every possible effort to induce Him to return. This avails but little,
for this grace comes at His will and not by our endeavours. At times we may
enjoy the company of some saint,[293]  which also brings us great profit. You will
ask me, if we see no one, how can we know whether it is Christ, or His most
glorious Mother, or a saint? Such a person cannot answer this question or know
how she distinguishes them, but the fact remains undoubted. It seems easy to
recognize our Lord when He speaks, but it is surprising how the soul can,
without hearing a word from him, recognize which saint has been sent by God to
be its companion and helper.

8.
There are other spiritual matters which cannot be explained. Our inability to
grasp them should teach us how incapable is our nature of understanding the
sublime mysteries of God. Those on whom these favours are bestowed should
marvel at and praise God’s mercy for them. As these particular graces are not
granted to everybody, any one who receives them should esteem them highly and
strive to serve God more zealously, since He has given her such special aid.
Therefore such a person does not
rate herself more highly on this account, but rather thinks she serves Him less
than any one else in the world; feeling herself to be under greater obligations
to Him than others, any fault she commits pierces her to the heart, as indeed
it ought under the circumstances.

9.
When the effects described are felt, any of you whom our Lord leads by this way
may be certain that it is neither deception nor fancy in her case. I believe it
to be impossible for the devil to produce an illusion lasting so long, neither
could he benefit the soul so remarkably nor cause such interior peace. It is not
his custom, nor, if he would, could such an evil creature bring about so much
good; the soul would soon be clouded by self-esteem and the idea that it was
better than others. The mind’s continual keeping in the presence of God[294]  and
the concentration of its thoughts on Him would so enrage the fiend that,
although he might try the experiment once, he would not often repeat it. God is
too faithful to permit him so much power over one whose sole endeavour is to
please His Majesty and to lay down her life for His honour and glory; He would
soon unmask the demon’s artifices.

10.
I contend, as I always shall, that if the soul reaps the effects described from
these divine graces, although God may withdraw these special favours, His
Majesty will turn all things to its advantage; even should He permit the devil
to deceive it at any time, the evil spirit will only reap his own confusion.
Therefore, as I told you, daughters, none
of you who are led by this way need feel alarm. Fear is good and we should be
cautious and not overconfident, for if such favours made you careless, it would
prove they were not from God as they did not leave the results I described. It
would be well at first to tell your case, under the seal of confession, to a
thoroughly qualified theologian (for that is the source whence we must obtain
light) or to some highly spiritual person. If your confessor is not very
spiritual, a good theologian would be preferable;[295]  best of all, one who unites both qualities.[296]  Do not be disturbed if he calls it mere
fancy; if it is, it can neither harm nor benefit your soul much. Recommend
yourself to the divine Majesty and beg Him not to allow you to be misled.

11.
It would be worse should he tell you the devil is deceiving you, although no
learned man would say so if he sees in you the effects described. Even should
your adviser say this, I know that the same Lord Who is beside you will comfort
and reassure you and will go to your counsellor and give him light that he may
impart it to you.[297]  If the director, though given to prayer, has
not been led by God in this way, he will at once take fright and condemn it.
Therefore I advise you to choose a
qualified theologian and, if possible, one who is also spiritual. The Prioress
ought to allow you this, for although she may feel sure that you are safe from
delusion because you lead a good life, yet she is bound to permit you to consult
some one for your mutual security. When you have conferred with these persons,
be at peace; trouble yourself no more about the matter, for sometimes when
there is no cause for fear, the demon gives rise to such immoderate scruples
that the person cannot be satisfied with consulting her confessor only once on
the subject, especially if he is inexperienced and timid or if he bids her
consult him again.

12.
Thus that which should have been kept strictly private becomes public;[298]  such a person is persecuted and tormented and
finds that what she believed to be her own secret has become public property.
Hence she suffers many troubles which may even devolve upon the Order in such
times as these. Consequently I warn all Prioresses that great caution is
required in such matters; also they must not think a nun more virtuous than the
rest because such favours are shown her. Our Lord guides every one, in the way
He knows to be best. This grace, if made good use of, prepares one receiving it
to become a great servant of God, but sometimes our Lord bestows it on the
weakest souls; therefore in itself it is neither to be esteemed nor condemned.
We must look to the virtues; she who is most mortified, humble and single-minded
in serving God is the most holy. However, we can never feel very certain about
such matters until the true
Judge rewards each one according to his merits. Then we shall be surprised to
find how very different is His judgment from that of this world. May He be for
ever praised. Amen.

The Sixth Mansions

Chapter IX.

THIS
CHAPTER SPEAKS OF THE MANNER IN WHICH GOD COMMUNICATES WITH THE SOUL BY
IMAGINARY VISIONS. STRONG REASONS ARE GIVEN FOR NOT DESIRING TO BE LED IN THIS
WAY; THIS IS VERY PROFITABLE READING.

1. The jewel in the locket. 2. The simile
explained. 3. The apparition explained. 4. Awe produced by this vision. 5.
False and genuine visions. 6. Illusive visions. 7. Effects of a genuine vision.
8. Conviction left by a genuine vision. 9. Its effects upon the after conduct.
10. A confessor should be consulted. 11. How to treat visions. 12. Effects of
seeing the face of Christ. 13. Reasons why visions are not to be sought. 14.
The second reason. 15. Third reason. 16. Fourth reason. 17. Fifth reason. 18.
Sixth reason. 19. Additional reasons. 20. The virtues more meritorious than
consolations. 21. Fervent souls desire to serve God for Himself alone.

1.
Now we come to treat of imaginary visions, whereby it is held that the devil is
more liable to deceive people than by the other visions I have already
described. This is probably true. Yet when imaginary visions are divine, they
seem, in a certain manner, more profitable for us than the others, as being
more suited to our nature—with the exception of the visions sent by our Lord
in the seventh mansion which far surpass all others. The presence of our Lord
described in the last chapter may thus be symbolized. Let us suppose that we
have in our possession a gold locket containing a precious stone of the highest
value and powers, which, though we have not seen it, we are certain is
in the case, and its virtues benefit us when we wear the pendant. Although we
have never gazed on it we value it highly, knowing by experience that it has
cured us of maladies for which it is remedial. However, we dare not look at it
nor open the locket nor could we do so even if we wished, for the owner of the
jewel alone knows the secret of unfastening its casket. Although he lent it us
for our use, yet he kept the key for himself; he will open the trinket when he
chooses to show us its contents and close it again when he sees fit to do so.

2.
Our Lord treats us here in this way. Now, suppose the owner of this locket
suddenly opened it at times for the benefit of the person to whom he has
entrusted it; doubtless the latter would value the diamond more highly through
remembering its wonderful lustre. This may be compared to what happens when our
Lord is pleased to caress the soul. He shows it in vision His most sacred Humanity
under whatever form He chooses; either as He was during His life on earth[299]  or after His resurrection.[300]  The vision passes as quickly as a flash of
lightning, yet this most glorious picture makes an impression on the
imagination that I believe can never be effaced until the soul at last sees
Christ to enjoy Him for ever. Although I call it a ‘picture,’ you must not
imagine that it looks like a painting; Christ appears as a living Person Who sometimes
speaks and reveals deep mysteries. You must understand that though the soul
sees this for a certain space of time, it is no more possible to continue looking
at it than to gaze for a very long time on the sun; therefore this vision
passes very quickly, although its brightness does not pain the interior sight
in the same way as the sun’s glare injures our bodily eyes.

3.
The image is seen by the interior sight alone; but of bodily apparitions I can
say nothing, for the person I know so intimately never having experienced
anything of the kind herself could not speak about them with certainty.[301]  The splendour of Him Who is revealed in the
vision resembles an infused light like that of the sun covered with a veil as transparent
as a diamond, if such a texture could be woven, while His raiment looks like
fine linen. The soul to whom God grants this vision almost always falls into an
ecstasy, nature being too weak to bear so dread a sight. I say ‘dread,’ though
this apparition is more lovely and delightful than anything that could be
imagined even though any one should live a thousand years and spend all that
time in trying to picture it, for it far surpasses our limited imagination and
understanding; yet the presence of such surpassing majesty inspires the soul
with great fear.

4.
There is no need to ask how the soul knew Who He was or who declared with
absolute certainty that He was the Lord of heaven and earth. This is not so
with earthly kings; unless we were told their names or saw their attendant
courtiers, they would attract little notice. O Lord, how little do we
Christians know Thee! What will that day be in which Thou comest as our Judge,
since now, when
Thou comest as a Friend to Thy spouse, the sight of Thee strikes us with such
awe? O daughters! what will it be when He says in wrath: ‘Go, accursed of my
Father?’(St. Matt. xxv. 41): ‘Discedite a me, maledicti, in ignem æternum.’ Let this impression be the
result of this favour granted by God to the soul and we shall reap no little
benefit from it, since St. Jerome, saint as he was, ever kept the thought of
the last judgment before his eyes.[302]  Thus we shall care nothing what sufferings we
endure from the austerities of our Rule, for long as they may last, the time is
but a moment compared to this eternity of pain. I sincerely assure you that,
wicked as I am, I have never feared the torments of hell[303]  for they have seemed to me as nothing when I remembered
that the lost would see the beautiful, meek and pitiful eyes of our Lord turned
on them in wrath.[304]  I have thought all my life that this would be
more than my heart could bear.

5.
How much more must any one fear this to whom our Lord so revealed Himself in
vision here as to overcome her feelings and produce unconsciousness! This must
be the reason that the soul remains in a rapture: our Lord strengthens its
weakness so as to unite it to His greatness in this sublime communion with God.
When any one can
contemplate this sight of our Lord for a long time, I do not believe it is a
vision but rather some overmastering idea which causes the imagination to fancy
it sees something; but this illusion is only like a dead image in comparison
with the living reality of the other case.

6.
As not only three or four, but a large number of people have spoken to me on
the subject, I know by experience that there are souls which, either because
they possess vivid imaginations or active minds, or for some other reason of
which I am ignorant, are so absorbed in their own ideas as to feel certain they
see whatever their fancy imagines. If they had ever beheld a genuine vision,
they would recognize the deception unmistakably. They themselves fabricate,
piece by piece, what they fancy they see: no after effects are produced on the
mind, which is less moved to devotion than by the sight of a sacred picture. It
is clear that no attention should be paid to such fancies, which pass more
quickly than dreams from the memory.

7.
In the favour of which I speak, the case is very different. A person is far
from thinking of seeing anything, no idea of which has crossed the mind, when
suddenly the vision is revealed in its entirety, causing within the powers and
senses of the soul a fright and confusion soon changed into a blissful peace.
Thus, after St. Paul was thrown to the ground, a great tempest and noise
followed from heaven;(Acts ix. 3, 4).  so, in the interior world of the soul, there
is a violent tumult followed instantly, as I said, by perfect
calm. Meanwhile certain sublime truths have been so impressed on the mind that
it needs no other master, for with no effort of its own, Wisdom Himself has
enlightened its former ignorance.

8.
The soul for some time afterwards possesses such certainty that this grace
comes from God that whatever people may say to the contrary it cannot fear
delusion. Later on, when her confessor suggests doubts to her, God may allow
such a person to waver in her belief for a time and to feel misgivings lest, in
punishment for her sins, she may possibly have been left to go astray. However,
she does not give way to these apprehensions, but (as I said in speaking of
other matters)[305]  they only affect her in the same way as the
temptations of the devil against faith, which may disturb the mind but do not
shake the firmness of belief. In fact, the more severe the assault,[306]  the more certain is she that the evil one
could never have produced the great benefits she is conscious of having
received, because he exercises no such power over the interior of the soul. He
may present a false apparition but it does not possess such truth, majesty, and
efficacy.

9.
As confessors cannot see these effects, which perhaps the person to whom God
has shown the vision is unable to explain, they are afraid of deception, as
indeed they have good reason to be. Therefore caution is necessary and time
should be allowed to see what effects follow. Day by day, the progress of the
soul in humility and in the virtues should be watched: if the devil is
concerned in the matter, he will soon show signs of himself and will be
detected in a thousand lies. If the confessor is experienced and has received
such favours himself, he will not take long in discovering the truth. In fact,
he will know immediately, on being told of the vision, whether it is divine or
comes from the imagination or the demon: more especially if he has received the
gift of discerning spirits—then, if he is learned, he will understand the
matter at once even though he has not personally experienced the like.

10.
The great point is, sisters, that you should be perfectly candid and
straightforward with your confessor: I do not mean in declaring your sins that
is evident enough—but in giving him an account of your prayer.[307]  Unless you do this, I cannot assure you of
your safety nor that you are led by God. Our Lord desires that we should be as
truthful and open with those who stand in His place as we should with Himself;
that we should wish them to know not only our thoughts but especially all
relating to our actions, however insignificant. Then you need feel no trouble
nor anxiety[308]  because even if your vision were not from
God, it could do you no harm if you are humble and possess a good conscience,
for His Majesty knows how to glean good from evil. What the devil intended to
injure you will benefit you instead: believing that God has granted you such
signal favours, you will strive to please Him better and will keep His image
ever before your memory.

11.
A great theologian[309]  once said that he should not trouble himself
though the devil, who is a clever painter, should present before his eyes the
living image of Christ, which would only kindle his devotion and defeat the
evil one with his own weapons. However wicked an artist may be, we should
reverence his picture if it represents Him Who is our only good. This great
scholar held that it was very wrong to advise any one who saw a vision of our
Lord to offer it signs of scorn,[310]  because we are bound to show respect to the
portrait of our King wherever we see it. I am sure that he was right, for even
in the world any one who was on friendly terms with a person would take it as
an offence were his portrait treated with contempt. How much more should we
always show respect to a crucifix or a picture of our heavenly Sovereign
wherever it meets our gaze! Although I have written about this elsewhere, I am
glad of the opportunity of saying it now for I know some one who was deeply
pained at being bidden to behave in this way. I know not who can have invented
such a torture for one who felt bound to obey the counsel given by her
confessor, for she would have thought her soul was at stake had she disobeyed
him. My advice is, if you are given such an order, that humbly alleging the
reasons I have set before you to your confessor, you should not carry it out. I
am perfectly satisfied with the motives given for doing so by him who
counselled me on this subject.

12.
One great advantage gained by the soul from this favour shown by our Lord is
that when thinking of Him or of His life and Passion, the remembrance of His
most meek and beautiful face brings with it the greatest consolation. In the
same way, we feel happier after having seen a benefactor than if we had never
known him personally. I can assure you that the remembrance of the joy caused
by this vision gives us the greatest comfort and assistance.

13.
Many other advantages result; but as I have written elsewhere[311]  at
length about the effect these visions produce, and must do so again later on, I
will say no more now lest I weary us both. But I most earnestly advise you,
when you know or hear of God’s bestowing these graces on others, never to pray
nor desire to be led by this way yourself though it may appear to you to be
very good; indeed, it ought to be highly esteemed and reverenced, yet no one
should seek to go by it for several reasons. Firstly, as it is a want of
humility to desire what you have never deserved, I do not think any one who
longs for these graces can be really humble: a common labourer never dreams of
wishing to be made a king—the thing seems impossible and he is unfit for it; a
lowly mind has the same feeling about these divine favours. I do not believe
God will ever bestow these gifts on such a person, as before doing so He always
gives thorough self-knowledge. How can that soul, while filled with such lofty
aspirations, realize the truth that He has shown it great mercy in not casting
it into hell?

14.
The second reason is that such a one is certain to
be deceived or at least is in great danger of delusion, for an entrance is thus
left open to the devil, who only needs to see the door left ajar to slip in at
once and play us a thousand tricks.

15.
Thirdly: when people strongly desire a thing, the imagination makes them fancy
they see or hear it, just as when a man’s mind is set upon a subject all day he
dreams of it at night.

16.
Fourthly: it would be very presumptuous of me to choose a way for myself
without knowing what is good for me.[312]  I should leave our Lord, Who knows my soul,
to guide me as is best for me so that His will may be done in all things.

17.
Fifthly: do you think people on whom our Lord bestows these favours have little
to suffer? No, indeed! their trials are most severe and of many kinds. How can
you tell whether you would be able to bear them?

18.
Sixthly: perhaps what you think would be your gain might prove your loss, as
happened to Saul when he was made king.[313]  In short, sisters, there are other reasons
besides these; believe me, it is safer to wish only what God wishes, Who knows
us better than we know ourselves and Who loves us. Let us place ourselves
entirely in His hands so that His will may be done in us; we can never go
astray if our will is ever firmly fixed on this.

19.
Know that for having received many favours of this kind, you will not merit
more glory but will be
the more stringently obliged to serve, since you have received more. God does
not deprive us of anything by which we merit more, for this remains in our own
control. There are many saints who never knew what it was to receive one such
favour, while others who have received them are not saints at all. Do not imagine
that these gifts are continually bestowed; indeed, for one that is granted, the
soul bears many a cross, so that instead of longing to receive more favours, it
only strives to use them better.

20.
True, such a grace is a most powerful aid towards practising the virtues in
their highest perfection, but it is far more meritorious to gain them at the
cost of one’s own toil. I was acquainted with some one,[314]  indeed with two people (of whom one was a
man), on whom our Lord had bestowed some of these gifts. They were both so
desirous of serving His Majesty at their own cost without these great
consolations and so longed to suffer for His sake, that they remonstrated with
Him for giving them these favours, and if it had been possible would have
refused to receive them. When I say ‘consolations,’ I do not mean these visions
which greatly benefit the soul and are highly to be esteemed, but the delights
given by God during contemplation.

21.
I believe that these desires are supernatural and proper to very fervent souls
who wish to prove to God that they do not serve Him for pay; so as I said, such
people do not urge themselves to work harder
for Him by the thought of the glory they will gain, but rather labour to
satisfy their love, of which the nature is to toil for the Beloved in a
thousand ways. Such souls would fain find a way to consume themselves in Him,
and were there need that, for the sake of God’s greater glory, they should be
annihilated for ever, they would count it great gain. May He be for ever
praised Who, in abasing Himself to hold converse with us miserable creatures,
vouchsafes to manifest His greatness! Amen.

The Sixth Mansions

Chapter X.

SPEAKS
OF VARIOUS OTHER GRACES GOD BESTOWS ON THE SOUL IN DIFFERENT WAYS, AND OF THE
GREAT BENEFITS CONFERRED BY THEM.

1. Reasons for speaking of these
supernatural favours. 2. An intellectual vision. 3. God compared to a palace in
which His creatures dwell. 4. Forgive as we are forgiven. 5. The vision shows
God to be Truth itself. 6. We should imitate God by truthfulness. 7. Why God
reveals these truths.

1.
OUR Lord communicates with the soul by means of these apparitions on many
occasions—sometimes when it is afflicted, at other times when it is about to
receive some heavy cross, and again for the sake of the mutual delight of
Himself and His beloved. There is no need for me to specify each different case
nor do I intend to do so. I only wish to teach you (as far as I am acquainted
with them myself) what are the different favours God shows a soul in this state
so that you may understand their characteristics and the effects they produce. Thus you will not
mistake every idle fancy for a vision and if you really see one, knowing that
such a thing is possible, you will not be disturbed nor unhappy. The devil, who
gains greatly by it, is delighted to see a soul troubled and distressed,
knowing how this hinders it from employing itself wholly in loving and serving
God.

2.
His Majesty has far higher ways of communicating Himself to the soul; they are
less dangerous for I do not think the evil spirit can imitate them. They are
more difficult to explain, being more abstruse; therefore imaginary visions are
easier to describe. God is sometimes pleased, while a person is engaged in
prayer and in perfect possession of her senses, to suspend them and to discover
sublime mysteries to her which she appears to see within God Himself. This is
no vision of the most sacred Humanity nor can I rightly say the soul ‘sees,’
for it sees nothing; this is no imaginary vision but a highly intellectual one,
wherein is manifested how all things are beheld in God and how He contains them
within Himself.[315]  It is of great value, for although passing in
an instant, it remains deeply engraved in the memory, producing a feeling of
great shame in the mind which perceives more clearly the malice of offences
against God, since these most heinous sins are committed within His very being
since we dwell within Him. I will try to explain this truth to you by a
comparison, for although it is obvious and has been often told us, we either
never reflect upon it or do not wish to understand
it. If we realized it, we could not possibly behave with such audacity.

3.
Let us compare God to a very spacious and magnificent mansion or palace and
remember that this edifice is God Himself. Can the sinner withdraw from it in
order to carry out his crimes? No, certainly not, for within this very palace,
that is, within God Himself, are perpetrated all the abominations, impurities
and evil deeds that sinners commit. Oh awful thought, well worthy to be
pondered over! What profit it would bring to us, who know so little and
understand these truths but partially or how could we possibly be so reckless
in our daring? Let us, sisters, meditate on the infinite mercy and patience of
God in not casting us down to hell at once and let us render Him hearty thanks.
Surely we should be ashamed of resenting anything done or said against us—we who are the scum of the earth—when
we see what outrages are offered to God
our Creator within His very being, by
us His creatures; yet we are wounded whenever we hear of an unkind word having
been spoken of us in our absence, although perhaps with no evil intention.

4.
Oh misery of mankind! When, daughters, shall we imitate Almighty God in any
way? Oh, let us not think we are doing great things if we suffer injuries patiently: rather let us bear them with alacrity; let us love our enemies, since
this great God has not ceased to love us in spite of our many sins! This is
indeed the chief reason that all should forgive any harm done them. I assure
you, daughters, that though this vision passes very quickly, our
Lord has bestowed signal grace on her to whom He grants it, if she seeks to
profit by keeping it constantly in mind.

5.
Short as the time lasts, yet, in a manner impossible to describe, God also
manifests that in Him there is a verity which makes all truth in creatures seem
obscure. He convinces the soul that He alone is that Truth which cannot lie,
thus demonstrating the meaning of David’s words in the psalm: ‘Every man is a
liar,’(Ps. cxv. 11). ‘Omnis homo mendax.’  which could never be thus realized by any
other means, however often we might hear that God is truth infallible. As I
recall Pilate and how he besought our Lord in His Passion to answer his
question: ‘What is truth?’(St. John xviii. 38): Quid est veritas?  I realize how little mortals know of that
sublime veracity.

6.
I wish I could explain this better but am unable to do so. Let us learn from
it, sisters, that if we would bear any resemblance to our God and our Spouse,
we must strive to walk ever in the truth. I do not merely mean that we should
not tell falsehoods thank God, I see that in these convents you are most
careful never to do so on any account—but I desire that as far as possible we
should at with perfect truth before God and man and above all that we should
not wish to be thought better than we are; that in all our deeds we should
ascribe to God what is His and attribute what is ours to ourselves, and that we
should seek for verity in all things. Thus we shall care little for this world,
which is but deception and falsehood, and therefore cannot
last. Once, while I was wondering why our Lord so dearly loves the virtue of
humility, the thought suddenly struck me, without previous reflection, that it
is because God is the supreme Truth and humility is the truth, for it is most true that we have nothing good of ourselves
but only misery and nothingness: whoever ignores this, lives a life of
falsehood. They that realize this fact most deeply are the most pleasing to
God, the supreme Truth, for they walk in the truth. God grant, sisters, that we
may have the grace never to lose this self-knowledge! Amen.

7.
Our Lord shows the soul these favours because she is now indeed His bride,
resolute to do His will in all things; therefore He wishes to give her some
idea how to accomplish it and to manifest to her some of His divine attributes.
I need say no more about it, but I believe the two points above mentioned will
prove very useful. These favours should cause no fear but lead us to praise God
for bestowing these graces. I think neither the devil nor our own imaginations
can have much to do with them, therefore the soul may rest in perfect peace.

The Sixth Mansions

Chapter XI.

TREATS
OF HOW GOD INSPIRES THE SOUL WITH SUCH VEHEMENT AND IMPETUOUS DESIRES OF SEEING
HIM AS TO ENDANGER LIFE. THE BENEFITS RESULTING FROM THIS DIVINE GRACE.

1. Favours increase the soul’s desire for
God. 2. The dart of love. 3. Spiritual sufferings produced. 4. Its physical
effects. S. Torture of the desire for God. 6. These sufferings are a purgatory.
7. The torments of hell. 8. St. Teresa’s painful desire after God. 9. This
suffering irresistible. 10. Effects of the dart of love. 11. Two spiritual
dangers to life. 12. Courage needed here and given by our Lord.

1.
WILL all these graces bestowed by the Spouse upon the soul suffice to content
this little dove or butterfly (you see I have not forgotten her after all!) so
that she may settle down and rest in the place where she is to die? No indeed:
her state is far worse than ever; although she has been receiving these favours
for many years past, she still sighs and weeps because each grace augments her
pain. She sees herself still far away from God, yet with her increased
knowledge of His attributes her longing and her love for Him grow ever stronger
as she learns more fully how this great God and Sovereign deserves to be loved.
As, year by year her yearning after Him gradually becomes keener, she
experiences the bitter suffering I am about to describe. I speak of ‘years’
because relating what happened to the person I mentioned, though I know well
that with God time has no limits and in a single moment He can raise a soul to
the most sublime state I have described. His Majesty has the power to do all He
wishes and He wishes to do much for us. These longings, tears, sighs, and violent
and impetuous desires and strong feelings, which seem to proceed from our
vehement love, are yet as nothing compared with what I am about to describe and
seem but a smouldering fire, the heat of which, though painful, is yet
tolerable.

2.
While the soul is thus inflamed with love, it often happens that, from a
passing thought or spoken word of how death delays its coming, the heart
receives, it knows not how or whence, a blow as from a fiery dart.[316]  I do not say that this actually is a ‘dart,’
but, whatever it may be, decidedly it does not come from any part of our being.[317]  Neither is it really a ‘blow’ though I call
it one, but it wounds us severely—not, I think, in that part of our nature
subject to physical pain but in the very depths and centre of the soul, where
this, thunderbolt, in its rapid course, reduces all the earthly part of our
nature to powder. At the time we cannot even remember our own existence, for in
an instant, the faculties of the soul are so fettered as to be incapable of any
action except the power they retain of increasing our torture. Do not think I
am exaggerating; indeed I fall short of explaining what happens which cannot be
described.

3.
This is a trance of the senses and faculties except as regards what helps to
make the agony more intense. The understanding realizes acutely what cause
there is for grief in separation from God and His Majesty now augments this
sorrow by a vivid manifestation of Himself. This increases the anguish to such
a degree that the sufferer gives vent

to
loud cries which she cannot stifle, however patient and accustomed to pain she
may be, because this torture is not corporal but attacks the innermost recesses
of the soul. The person I speak of learnt from this how much more acutely the
spirit is capable of suffering than the body; she understood that this
resembled the pains of purgatory, where the absence of the flesh does not
prevent the torture’s being far worse than any we can feel in this world.

4.
I saw some one in this condition who I really thought would have died, nor
would it have been surprising, for there is great danger of death in this
state. Short as is the time it lasts, it leaves the limbs all disjointed and
the pulse as feeble as if the soul were on the point of departure, which is
indeed the case, for the natural heat fails, while that which is supernatural so
burns the frame that were it increased ever so little God would satisfy the
soul’s desire for death. Not that any pain is felt by the body at the moment,
although, as I said, all the joints are dislocated so that for two or three
days afterwards the suffering is too severe for the person to have even the
strength to hold a pen;[318]  indeed I believe that the health becomes
permanently enfeebled in consequence. At the time this is not felt, probably
because the spiritual torments are so much more keen that the bodily ones
remain unnoticed; just as when there is very severe
pain in one part, slighter aches elsewhere are hardly perceived, as I know by
experience. During this favour there is no physical suffering either great or
small, nor do I think the person would feel it were she torn to pieces.

5.
Perhaps you will say this is an imperfection, and you may ask why she does not
conform herself to the will of God since she has so completely surrendered
herself to it. Hitherto she has been able to do so and she consecrated her life
to it; but now she cannot because her reason is reduced to such a state that
she is no longer mistress of herself; nor can she think of anything but what
tends to increase her torment—for why should she seek to live apart from her
only Good? She feels a strange loneliness, finding no companionship in any
earthly creature; nor could she, I believe, among those who dwell in heaven,
since they are not her Beloved: meanwhile all society is a torture to her. She
is like one suspended in mid-air, who can neither touch the earth nor mount to
heaven; she is unable to reach the water while parched with thirst and this is
not a thirst that can be borne, but one which nothing will quench nor would she
have it quenched save with that water of which our Lord spoke to the Samaritan
woman, but this is not given to her.(St. John iv. 15). Life, ch. xxx. 24. Way of
Perf. ch. xix. 4 sqq. Concept. ch. vii. 7, 8. Found. ch. xxxi. 42. See note, Life, ch. i. 6.

6.
Alas, O Lord, to what a state dost Thou bring those who love Thee! Yet these
sufferings are as nothing compared with the reward Thou wilt give for them. It
is right that great riches should be dearly
bought. Moreover, her pains purify her soul so that it may enter the seventh
mansion, as purgatory cleanses spirits which are to enter heaven:[319]  then indeed these trials will appear like a
drop of water compared to the sea. Though this torment and grief could not, I
think, be surpassed by any earthly cross (so at least this person said and she
had endured much both in body and mind), yet they appeared to her as nothing in
comparison with their recompense. The soul realizes that it has not merited
anguish which is of such measureless value. This conviction, although bringing
no relief; enables the sufferer to bear her trials willingly—for her entire
lifetime, if God so wills,—although instead of dying once for all, this would
be but a living death, for truly it is nothing else.

7.
Let us remember, sisters, how those who are in hell lack this submission to the
divine will and the resignation and consolation God gives such a soul and the
solace of knowing that their pains benefit them, for the damned will continually
suffer more and more; (more and more, I mean in regard to accidental pains[320]). The
soul feels far more keenly than the body and the torments I have just
described are incomparably less severe than those endured by the lost, who also
know that their anguish will last for ever: what, then, will become of these miserable
souls? What can we do or suffer during our short lives which is worth reckoning
if it will free us from such terrible and endless torments? I assure you that,
unless you have learned by experience, it would be impossible to make you
realize how acute are spiritual pangs and how different from physical pain. Our
Lord wishes us to understand this, so that we may realize what gratitude we owe
Him for having called us to a state where we may hope, by His mercy, to be
freed from and forgiven our sins.

8.
Let us return to the soul we left in such cruel torment. This agony does not
continue for long in its full violence—never, I believe, longer than three or
four hours; were it prolonged, the weakness of our nature could not endure it
except by a miracle. In one case, where it lasted only a quarter of an hour,
the sufferer was left utterly exhausted; indeed, so violent was the attack that
she completely lost consciousness. This occurred when she unexpectedly heard
some verses to the effete that life seemed unending; she was engaged in
conversation at the time, which was on the last day of Easter. All Eastertide
she had suffered such aridity as hardly to realize what mystery was being
celebrated.[321]

9. It is as impossible to resist this suffering as it would be to
prevent the flame’s having heat enough to burn us if we were thrown into
a fire. These feelings cannot be concealed: all who are present recognize
the dangerous condition of such a person although they are unable to see
what is passing within her. True, she knows her friends are near, but
they and all earthly things seem to her but shadows. To show you that,
should you ever be in this state, it is possible for your weakness and
human nature to be of help to you, I may tell you that at times, when
a person seems dying from her desire for death[322]
which so oppresses her soul with grief that it appears on the point
of leaving her body, yet her mind, terrified at the thought, tries to
still its pain so as to keep death at bay. Evidently this fear arises
from human infirmity, for the soul’s longings for death do not abate
meanwhile nor can its sorrows be stilled or allayed until God brings it
comfort.[323]  This He usually does by a deep trance or by some vision
whereby the true Comforter consoles and strengthens the heart, which thus
becomes resigned to live as long as He wills.[324]

10.
This favour entails great suffering but leaves most precious graces within the
soul, which loses all fear of any crosses it may henceforth meet with, for in
comparison with the acute anguish it has gone through all else seems nothing.
Seeing what she has gained, the sufferer would gladly endure frequently the
same pains[325]  but can do nothing to help herself in the
matter. There are no means of reaching that state again until God chooses to
decree it, when neither resistance nor escape is possible. The mind feels far
deeper contempt for the world than before, realizing that nothing earthly can
succour it in its torture; it is also much more detached from creatures, having
learnt that no one but its Creator can bring it consolation and strength. It is
more anxious and careful not to offend God, seeing that He can torment as well
as comfort.[326]

11.
Two things in this spiritual state seem to me to endanger life,—one is that of
which I have just spoken which is a real peril and no small one; the other an
excessive gladness and a delight so extreme that the soul appears to swoon away
and seems on the point of leaving the body, which indeed would bring it no
small joy.

12.
Now you see. sisters, whether I had not reason to tell you that courage was
needed for these favours and that when any one asks for them from our Lord He
may well reply, as He did to the sons of Zebedee: ‘Can you drink the chalice
that I shall drink?’(St. Matt. xx. 22): ‘Potestis bibere calicem quem ego bibiturus sum?’  I believe, sisters, we should all answer
’Yes’—and we should be perfectly right for His Majesty gives strength when He
sees it needed: He ever defends such souls and answers for them when they are
persecuted and slandered as He did for the Magdalen—if not in words, at least
in deeds.(St. Matt. xxvi. 1) to: (St. Mark xiv. 6); (St. John xii. 7). Way of Perf. ch. xvi. 7; xvii. 4. Excl. v. 2-4.  At last, ah, at last! before they die He
repays them for all they have suffered, as you shall now learn. May He be for
ever blessed and may all creatures praise Him! Amen.

The Seventh Mansions

Chapter I.

TREATS
OF THE SUBLIME FAVOURS GOD BESTOWS ON SOULS WHICH HAVE ENTERED THE SEVENTH
MANSIONS. THE AUTHOR SHOWS THE DIFFERENCE SHE BELIEVES TO EXIST BETWEEN SOUL
AND SPIRIT ALTHOUGH THEY ARE BOTH ONE. THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME NOTEWORTHY
THINGS.

1. Sublime mysteries of these mansions. 2.
St. Teresa abashed at treating such subjects. 3. Our Lord introduces His bride
into His presence chamber. 4. Darkness of a soul in mortal sin. 5. Intercession
for sinners. 6. The soul an interior world. 7. The spiritual nuptials. 8.
Former favours differ from spiritual nuptials. 9. The Blessed Trinity revealed
to the soul. 10. Permanence of Its presence in the soul. 11. The effects. 12.
This presence is not always equally realized. 13. It is beyond the soul’s
control. 14. The centre of the soul remains calm. 15. The soul and the spirit
distinct though united. 16. The soul and its faculties not identical.

1.
You may think, sisters, that so much has been said of this spiritual journey
that nothing remains to be added. That would be a great mistake: God’s
immensity has no limits, neither have His works; therefore, who can recount His
mercies and His greatness?(Ps. cxliv. 3): ‘Magnitudinis ejus non est finis.’  It is impossible, so do not be amazed at what
I write about them which is but a cipher of what remains untold concerning God.
He has shown great mercy in communicating these mysteries to
one who could recount them to us, for as we learn more of His intercourse with
creatures, we ought to praise Him more fervently and to esteem more highly the
soul in which He so delights. Each of us possesses a soul but we do not realize
its value as made in the image of God, therefore we fail to understand the
important secrets it contains. May His Majesty be pleased to guide my pen and
to teach me to say somewhat of the much
there is to tell of His revelations to the souls He leads into this mansion. I
have begged Him earnestly to help me, since He sees that my object is to reveal
His mercies for the praise and glory of His name. I hope He will grant this
favour, if not for my own sake, at least for yours, sisters—so that you may
discover how vital it is for you to put no obstacle in the way of the Spiritual
Marriage of the Bridegroom with your soul which brings, as you will learn, such
signal blessings with it.

2.
O great God! surely such a miserable creature as myself should tremble at the
thought of speaking on such a subject so far beyond anything I deserve to
understand. Indeed I felt abashed and doubted whether it would not be better to
finish writing about this Mansion in a few words, lest people might imagine
that I am recounting my personal experience. I was overwhelmed with shame for,
knowing what I am, it is a terrible undertaking. On the other hand, this fear
seemed but a temptation and weakness: even if I should be misjudged, so long as
God is but a little better praised and known, let all the world revile me. Besides, I may be dead
before this book is seen. May He Who lives and shall live to all eternity be
praised! Amen.

3.
When our Lord is pleased to take pity on the sufferings, both past and present,
endured through her longing for Him by this soul which He has spiritually taken
for His bride, He, before consummating the celestial marriage, brings her into
this His mansion or presence chamber. This is the seventh Mansion, for as He
has a dwelling-place in heaven, so has He in the soul, where none but He may abide
and which may be termed a second heaven.

4.
It is important, sisters, that we should not fancy the soul to be in darkness.
As we are accustomed to believe there is no light but that which is exterior,
we imagine that the soul is wrapt in obscurity. This is indeed the case with a
soul out of the state of grace,[327]  not, however, through any defer in the Sun of
Justice which remains within it and gives it being, but the soul itself is
incapable of receiving the light, as I think I said in speaking of the first
Mansion.[328]  A certain person was given to understand that
such unfortunate souls are, as it were, imprisoned in a gloomy dungeon, chained
hand and foot and unable to perform any meritorious action: they are also both
blind and dumb. Well may we pity them when we reflect that we ourselves were
once in the same state and that God may show them mercy also.

5.
Let us, then, sisters, be most zealous in interceding for them and never
neglect it. To pray for a soul in mortal sin is a far more profitable form of
almsgiving than it would be to help a Christian whom we saw with hands strongly
fettered behind his back, tied to a post and dying of hunger—not for want of
food, because plenty of the choicest delicacies lay near him, but because he
was unable to put them into his mouth, although he was extremely exhausted and
on the point of dying, and that not a temporal death, but an eternal one. Would
it not be extremely cruel of us to stand looking at him, and give him nothing
to eat? What if by your prayers you could loose his bonds? Now you understand.

6.
For the love of God I implore you constantly to remember in your prayers souls
in a like case. We are not speaking now of them but of others who, by the mercy
of God, have done penance for their sins and are in a state of grace. You must
not think of the soul as insignificant and petty but as an interior world
containing the number of beautiful mansions you have seen; as indeed it should,
since in the centre of the soul there is a mansion reserved for God Himself.

7.
When His Majesty deigns to bestow on the soul the grace of these divine
nuptials, He brings it into His presence chamber and does not treat it as
before, when He put it into a trance. I believe He then united it to Himself,
as also during the prayer of union; but then only the superior part was
affected and the soul did not feel called to enter
its own centre as it does in this mansion. Here it matters little whether it is
in the one way or the other.

8.
In the former favours our Lord unites the spirit to Himself and makes it both
blind and dumb like St. Paul after his conversion,(Acts ix. 8): ‘Surrexit autem
Saulus de terra, apertisque oculis nihil videbat.’ There is, however, nothing
to imply that he was dumb as well as blind.  thus preventing its knowing whence or how it
enjoys this grace, for the supreme delight of the spirit is to realize its nearness
to God. During the actual moment of divine union the soul feels nothing, all
its powers being entirely lost. But now He acts differently: our pitiful God
removes the scales from its eyes(Acts ix. 18): ‘Et confestim ceciderunt ab oculis ejus tamquam squamæ, et visum
recepit.’ Way of Perf.. ch. xxviii.
11.  letting it see and understand somewhat of the
grace received in a strange and wonderful manner in this mansion by means of
intellectual vision.

9.
By some mysterious manifestation of the truth, the three Persons of the most
Blessed Trinity reveal themselves, preceded by an illumination which shines on
the spirit like a most dazzling cloud of light.[329]  The three Persons are distinct from one another;
a sublime knowledge is infused into the soul, imbuing it with a certainty of
the truth that the Three are of one substance, power, and knowledge and are one
God. Thus that which we hold as a doctrine of faith, the soul now, so to speak,
understands by sight, though it beholds the Blessed Trinity neither by the eyes
of the body nor of the soul, this being no imaginary vision. All the Three
Persons here communicate Themselves to the soul, speak to it and make it
understand the words of our Lord in the Gospel that He and the Father and the
Holy Ghost will come and make their abode with the soul which loves Him and
keeps His commandments.(St. John xiv. 23): ‘Si quis diligit me, sermonem meum servabit, et Pater meus
diliget eum, et ad eum veniemus, et mansionem apud eum faciemus.’

10.
O my God, how different from merely hearing and believing these words is it to
realize their truth in this way! Day by day a growing astonishment takes
possession of this soul, for the three Persons of the Blessed Trinity seem
never to depart; it sees with certainty, in the way I have described, that They
dwell far within its own centre and depths; though for want of learning it
cannot describe how, it is conscious of the indwelling of these divine
Companions.

11.
You may fancy that such a person is beside herself and that her mind is too
inebriated to care for anything else. On the contrary, she is far more active
than before in all that concerns God’s service, and when at leisure she enjoys
this blessed companionship. Unless she first deserts God, I believe He will never
cease to make her clearly sensible of His presence: she feels confident, as
indeed she may, that He will never so fail her as to allow her to lose this
favour after once bestowing it; at the same time, she is more careful than
before to avoid offending Him in any way.

12.
This presence is not always so entirely realized, that is, so distinctly
manifest, as at first, or as it is at times when God renews this favour,
otherwise the recipient could not possibly attend to anything else nor live in
society. Although not always seen by so clear a light, yet whenever she
reflects on it she feels the companionship of the Blessed Trinity. This is as
if, when we were with other people in a very well lighted room, some one were
to darken it by closing the shutters; we should feel certain that the others
were still there, though we were unable to see them.[330]

13.
You may ask: ‘Could she not bring back the light and see them again?’[331]  This is not in her power;
when our Lord chooses, He will open the shutters of the understanding: He shows
her great mercy in never quitting her and in making her realize it so clearly.
His divine Majesty seems to be preparing His bride for greater things by this
divine companionship which clearly helps perfection in every way and makes her
lose the fear she sometimes felt when other graces were granted her.

14.
A certain person so favoured found she had improved in all virtues: whatever
were her trials or labours, the centre of her soul seemed never moved from its
resting-place. Thus in a manner her soul appeared divided: a short time after
God had done her this favour, while undergoing great sufferings, she complained
of her soul as Martha did of Mary,(St. Luke x. 40). Excl. v. 2, 3. Way of Perf. ch. xv. 4; xxxi. 4. Rel. viii. 6. Concept. ch. vii. 4.  reproaching it with enjoying solitary peace
while leaving her so full of troubles and occupations that she could not keep
it company.

15.
This may seem extravagant to you, daughters, yet though the soul is known to be
undivided, it is fact and no fancy and often happens. Interior effects show for
certain that there is a positive difference between the soul and the spirit,
although they are one with each other.[332]  There is an extremely subtle
distinction between them, so that sometimes they seem to at in a different
manner from one another, as does the knowledge given to them by God.

16.
It also appears to me that the soul and its faculties are not identical. There
are so many and such transcendental mysteries within us, that it would be
presumption for me to attempt to explain them. If by God’s mercy we enter
heaven we shall understand these secrets.

The Seventh Mansions

Chapter II.

TREATS
OF THE SAME SUBJECT: EXPLAINS, BY SOME DELICATELY DRAWN COMPARISONS, THE
DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SPIRITUAL UNION AND SPIRITUAL MARRIAGE.

1. The spiritual nuptials introduced by an
imaginary vision. 2. Spiritual betrothal and marriage differ. 3. Spiritual
marriage lasting. 4. Not so spiritual betrothal. 5. Spiritual marriage
permanent. 6. St. Paul and spiritual marriage. 7. The soul’s joy in union. 8.
Its conviction of God’s indwelling. 9. Its peace. 10. Christ’s prayer for the
divine union of the soul. 11. Its fulfilment. 12. Unalterable peace of the soul
in the seventh Mansion. 13. Unless it offends God. 14. Struggles outside the
seventh Mansion. 15. Comparisons explaining this.

1.
WE now come to speak of divine and spiritual nuptials, although this sublime
favour cannot be received in all its perfection during our present life, for by
forsaking God this great good would be lost. The first time God bestows this
grace, He, by an imaginary vision of His most sacred Humanity, reveals Himself
to the soul so that it may understand and realize the sovereign gift it is receiving.
He may manifest Himself in a different way to other people; the person I
mentioned, after having received Holy Communion beheld our Lord, full of
splendour, beauty, and majesty, as He was after His resurrection.[333]  He told her that henceforth she was to care
for His affairs as though they were her own and He would care for hers: He
spoke other words which she understood better than she can repeat them. This
may seem nothing new, for our Lord had thus revealed Himself to her at other
times;[334]  yet this was so different that it left her
bewildered and amazed, both on account of the vividness of what she saw and of
the words heard at the time, also because it took place in the interior of the
soul where, with the exception of the one last mentioned, no other vision had
been seen.

2.
You must understand that between the visions seen in this and in the former
mansions there is a vast difference; there is the same distinction between
spiritual espousals and spiritual marriage as between people who are only
betrothed and others who are united for ever in holy matrimony. I have told you[335]  that though I make this comparison because
there is none more suitable, yet this betrothal is no more related to our corporal
condition than if the soul were a disembodied spirit. This is even more true of
the spiritual marriage, for this secret union takes place in the innermost
centre of the soul where God Himself must dwell: I believe that no door is
required to enter it. I say, ‘no door is
required,’ for all I have hitherto described seems to come through the senses
and faculties as must the representation of our Lord’s Humanity, but what
passes in the union of the spiritual nuptials is very different. Here God appears
in the soul’s centre, not by an imaginary but by an intellectual vision far
more mystic than those seen before, just as He appeared to the Apostles without
having entered through the door when He said: ‘Pax vobis.’(St. John xx. 19).

3.
So mysterious is the secret and so sublime the favour that God thus bestows
instantaneously on the soul, that it feels a supreme delight, only to be
described by saying that our Lord vouchsafes for the moment to reveal to it His
own heavenly glory in a far more subtle way than by any vision or spiritual
delight. As far as can be understood, the soul, I mean the spirit of this soul,
is made one with God[336]  Who is Himself a spirit, and Who has been
pleased to show certain persons how far His love for us extends in order that
we may praise His greatness. He has thus deigned to unite Himself to His
creature: He has bound Himself to her as firmly as two human beings are joined
in wedlock and will never separate Himself from her.

4.
Spiritual betrothal is different and like the grace of union is often
dissolved; for though two things are made one by union, separation is still
possible and each part then remains a thing by itself. This favour generally
passes quickly, and afterwards the soul, as far as it is aware, remains without
His company.

5.
This is not so in the spiritual marriage with our Lord, where the soul always
remains in its centre with its God. Union may be symbolized by two wax candles,
the tips of which touch each other so closely that there is but one light; or
again, the wick, the wax, and the light become one, but the one candle can
again be separated from the other and the two candles remain distinct; or the
wick may be withdrawn from the wax. But spiritual marriage is like rain falling
from heaven into a river or stream, becoming one and the same liquid, so that
the river and rain water cannot be divided; or it resembles a streamlet flowing
into the ocean, which cannot afterwards be disunited from it. This marriage may
also be likened to a room into which a bright light enters through two
windows—though divided when it enters, the light becomes one and the same.

6.
Perhaps when St. Paul said, ‘He who is joined to the Lord is one spirit,’(1 Cor. vi. 17): ‘Qui adhæret Domino unus spiritus est.’  he meant this sovereign marriage, which
presupposes His Majesty’s having been joined to the soul by union. The same
Apostle says: ‘To me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.’(Phil i. 21): ‘Mihi vivere
Christus est, et mori lucrum.’  This, I think, might here be uttered by the
soul, for now the little butterfly of which I spoke dies with supreme joy, for
Christ is her life.

7.
This becomes more manifest by its effects as time goes on, for the soul learns that
it is God Who gives it ‘life,’ by certain secret intuitions too strong to be
misunderstood, and keenly felt, although impossible to describe. These produce
such over-mastering
feelings that the person experiencing them cannot
refrain from amorous
exclamations, such as: ‘O Life of my life, and Power which doth uphold me!’
with other aspirations of the same kind.[337]  For from the bosom of the Divinity, where God
seems ever to hold this soul fast clasped, issue streams of milk, which solace
the servants of the castle. I think He wishes them to share, in some way, the
riches the soul enjoys; therefore from the flowing river in which the little
streamlet is swallowed up, some drops of water flow every now and then to
sustain the bodily powers, the servants of the bride and Bridegroom.

8.
A person who was unexpectedly plunged into water could not fail to be aware of
it; here the case is the same, but even more evident. A quantity of water could
not fall on us unless it came from some source—so the soul feels certain there
must be some one within it who lances forth these darts and vivifies its own
life, and that there is a Sun whence this brilliant light streams forth from
the interior of the spirit to its faculties.

9.
The soul itself, as I said, never moves from this centre, nor loses the peace
He can give Who gave it to the Apostles when they were assembled together.(St. John xx. 19).  I think this salutation of our Lord contains
far deeper meaning than the words convey, as also
His bidding the glorious Magdalen to ‘go in peace.’(St. Luke vii. 50).  Our Lord’s words act within us,[338]  and in these cases they must have wrought
their effect in the souls already disposed to banish from within themselves all
that is corporal and to retain only what is spiritual, in order to be joined in
this celestial union with the uncreated Spirit. Without doubt, if we empty
ourselves of all that belongs to the creature, depriving ourselves of it for
the love of God, that same Lord will fill us with Himself.

10.
Our Lord Jesus Christ, praying for His Apostles, (I cannot remember the
reference), asked that they might be made one with the Father and with Himself;
as Jesus Christ our Lord is in the Father and the Father in Him!(St. John xvii. 2) I: ‘Ut omnes unum sint, sicut tu Pater in me, et ego in te, ut et ipsi
in nobis unum sint.’  I do not know how love could be greater than
this! Let none draw back from entering here, for His Majesty also said: ‘Not
only for them do I pray, but for them also who through their word shall believe
in Me’;(St. John xvii. 20): ‘Non pro eis autem rogo tantum, sed et pro eis, qui credituri
sunt per verbum eorum in me.’  and He declared: ‘I am in them.’(St. John xvii. 2) 3: ‘Ego in eis.’

11.
God help me! how true these words are, and how clearly are they understood by
the soul which in this state of prayer finds them fulfilled in itself! So
should we all but for our own fault, for the words of Jesus Christ, our King
and our Lord, cannot fail. It is we who fail by not disposing ourselves fitly,
nor removing all that can obstruct this light,so
that we do not behold ourselves in this mirror wherein our image is
engraved.[339]

12.
To return to what I was saying. God places the soul in His own mansion which is
in the very centre of the soul itself. They say the empyreal heavens, in which
our Lord dwells, do not revolve with the rest: so the accustomed movements of
the faculties and imagination do not appear to take place in any way that can
injure the soul or disturb its peace.

13.
Do I seem to imply that after God has brought the soul thus far it is certain
to be saved and cannot fall into sin again?[340]  I do not mean this: whenever I say that the soul seems in security,
I must be understood to imply for as long as His Majesty thus holds it in His
care and it does not offend Him. At any rate I know for certain that though
such a person realizes the high state she is in and has remained in it for
several years, she does not consider herself safe, but is more careful than
ever to avoid committing the least offence against God. As I shall explain
later on, she is most anxious to serve Him and feels a constant pain and
confusion at seeing how little she can do for Him compared with all she ought.’
This is no light cross but a severe mortification, for the harder the penances
she can perform, the better is she pleased. Her greatest penance is to be
deprived by God of health and strength to perform any. I told you elsewhere what
keen pain this caused her, but now it grieves her far more. This must be
because she is like a tree grafted on a stock growing near a stream which makes
it greener and more fruitful.(Ps. i. 3): ‘Et erit tamquam lignum quod plantatum est secus decursus aquarum, quod
fructum suum dabit in tempore suo.’  Why marvel at the longings of this soul whose
spirit has truly become one with the celestial water I described?

14.
To return to what I wrote about. It is not intended that the powers, senses and
passions should continually enjoy this peace. The soul does so, indeed, but in
the other mansions there are still times of struggle, suffering, and fatigue,
though as a general rule, peace is not lost by them. This ‘centre of the soul’
or ‘spirit’ is so hard to describe or
even to believe in, that I think, sisters, my inability to explain my meaning
saves your being tempted to disbelieve me; it is difficult to understand how
there can be crosses and sufferings and yet peace in the soul.

15.
Let me give you one or two comparisons—God grant they may be of use; if not, I
know that what I say is true. A king resides in his palace; many wars and
disasters take place in his kingdom but he remains on his throne. In the same
way, though tumults and wild beasts rage with great uproar in the other
mansions, yet nothing of this enters the seventh mansions, nor drives the soul
from it. Although the mind regrets these troubles, they do not disturb it nor
rob it of its peace, for the passions are too subdued to dare to enter here
where they would only suffer still further defeat. Though the whole body is in
pain, yet the head, if it be sound, does not suffer with it. I smile at these
comparisons—they do not please me—but I can find no others. Think what you
will about it—I have told you the truth.

The Seventh Mansions

Chapter III.

THE
GREAT FRUITS PRODUCED BY THE ABOVE-MENTIONED PRAYER. THE WONDERFUL DIFFERENCE
BETWEEN THESE EFFECTS AND THOSE FORMERLY DESCRIBED SHOULD BE CAREFULLY STUDIED
AND REMEMBERED.

1. Effects of the graces last received. 2.
The soul only cares for God’s honour. 3. But still performs its duties. 4.
Other fruits of these favours. 5. The soul’s fervent desire to serve God. 6.
Christ dwells within this soul. 7. And recalls it to fervour if negligent. 8.
God’s constant care of such souls. 9. Their peace and silence. 10. Few
ecstasies in the Seventh Mansions. 11. Probable reasons for this. 12. Allusions
in Holy Scripture to this state. 13. Watchfulness of such souls. 14. Crosses
suffered in this state.

1.
THE little butterfly has died with the greatest joy at having found rest at
last, and now Christ lives in her.(Gal. ii. 20).  Let us see the difference between her present
and her former life, for the effects will prove whether what I told you was
true. As far as can be ascertained they are these: first, a self-forgetfulness
so complete that she really appears not to exist, as I said,[341]  for such a transformation has been worked in
her that she no longer recognizes herself; nor does she remember that heaven,
or life, or glory are to be hers, but seems entirely occupied in seeking God’s
interests. Apparently the words spoken by His Majesty have done their work:
’that she was to care for His affairs, and He would care for hers.’[342]

2.
Thus she recks nothing, whatever happens, but lives in such strange oblivion
that, as I stated, she seems no longer to exist, nor does she wish to be of any
account in anything—anything! unless
she sees that she can advance, however little, the honour and glory of God, for
which she would most willingly die.

3.
Do not fancy I mean, daughters, that she neglects to eat and drink, though it
brings no small torment to her, or to perform the duties of her state. I am
speaking of her interior; as regards her exterior actions there is little to
say, for her chief suffering is to see that she has hardly strength to do
anything. For nothing in the world would she omit doing all she can which she
knows would honour our Lord.

4.
The second fruit is a strong desire for suffering, though it does not disturb
her peace as before because the fervent wish of such souls for the fulfilment
of God’s will in them makes them acquiesce in all He does. If He would have her
suffer, she is content; if not, she does not torment herself to death about it
as she used to do. She feels a great interior joy when persecuted, and is far
more peaceful than in the former state under such circumstances: she bears no
grudge against her enemies, nor wishes them any ill. Indeed she has a special
love for them, is deeply grieved at seeing them in trouble, and does all she
can to relieve them,[343]  earnestly interceding with God on their
behalf. She would be glad to forfeit the favours His Majesty shows her, if they
might be given to her enemies instead, to prevent their offending our Lord. 5.
The most surprising thing to me is that the sorrow and distress which such
souls felt because they could not die and enjoy our Lord’s presence[344]  are now exchanged for as fervent a desire of
serving Him, of causing Him to be praised, and of helping others to the utmost
of their power. Not only have they ceased to long for death, but they wish for
a long life and most heavy crosses, if such would bring ever so little honour
to our Lord. Thus, if they knew for certain that immediately on quitting their
bodies their souls would enjoy God, it would make no difference to them, nor do
they think of the glory enjoyed by the saints, and long to share it. Such souls
hold that their glory consists in helping, in any way, Him Who was crucified,
especially as they see how men offend against Him, and how few, detached from
all else, care for His honour alone. True, people in this state forget this at
times, and are seized with tender longings to enjoy God and to leave this land
of exile, especially as they see how little they serve Him. Then, returning to
themselves and reflecting how they possess Him continually in their souls, they
are satisfied, offering to His Majesty their willingness to live as the most
costly oblation they can make.[345]

They fear death no more than they would a
delicious trance.

[6.
The fact is, that He Who gave them these torturing desires of death has
exchanged them for the others. May He be for ever blessed and praised! Amen. In
fact, such persons no longer wish for consolations nor delights, since they
bear God Himself within them, and it is He Who lives in them. It is evident
that His life was one continual torment: so would He have ours to be, at least
in desire, for as to the rest He leads us mercifully as our weakness requires,
though when He sees the need He imparts to us His strength.]

7.
Such a soul, thoroughly detached from all things, wishes to be either always
alone or occupied on what benefits the souls of others: she feels neither
aridity nor any interior troubles, but a constant tender recollection of our
Lord Whom she wishes to praise unceasingly. When she grows negligent, the same
Lord arouses her in the way that I told you, and it is easy to see that this
impulse (I know not what term to use for it) comes from the interior of the
soul, like the former impetuous desires.[346]  It is now felt very sweetly, but is neither
produced by the intellect nor the memory, nor is there reason to believe the
soul itself has any share in it. This is so usual and so frequent that whoever
has been in this state must have noticed it. However large a fire may be, the
flame never burns downwards, but upwards, and so this movement is seen to come
from the centre of the soul whose powers it excites. Indeed, were nothing else
gained by this way of prayer but the knowledge of the special care God takes to
communicate Himself to us and how He entreats us to abide with Him (for indeed
I can describe it in no other way) I think that for the sake of these sweet and
penetrating touches of His love all our past pains would be well spent.

8.
You will have learnt this by experience, sisters, for I think that when our
Lord has brought us to the prayer of union, He watches over us in this way
unless we neglect to keep His commandments. When these impulses are given you,
remember that they come from the innermost mansion, where God dwells in our souls. Praise Him
fervently, for it is He Who sends you this message, or love letter, so tenderly
written, and in a cipher that only you can understand and know what He asks. By
no means neglect to answer His Majesty, even though you may be occupied
exteriorly and engaged in conversation. Our Lord may often be pleased to show
you this secret favour in public; but it is very easy, as the reply should be
entirely interior, to respond by an at of love or to ask with Saint Paul:
’Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?”(Acts ix. 6): ‘Domine, quid me
vis facere?’’  Jesus will show you in many ways how to
please Him. It is a propitious moment, for He seems to be listening to us and
the soul is nearly always disposed by this delicate touch to respond with a
generous determination.[347]  As I told you, this mansion differs from the
rest in that, as I said,[348]  the dryness and disturbance felt in all the
rest at times hardly ever enter here, where the soul is nearly always calm. It
does not fear that this sublime favour can be counterfeited by the devil, but
feels a settled conviction that it is of divine origin because, as above
stated, nothing is here perceived by
the senses or faculties but His Majesty reveals Himself to the spirit, which He
takes to be with Himself in a place where I doubt not the devil dares not
enter, nor would our Lord ever permit him.

9.
All the graces here divinely bestowed on the soul come, as I said, through no a
Lion of its own except its total abandonment of itself to God. They are given
in peace and silence, like the building of Solomon’s Temple where no sound was
heard.[349]  It is thus with this temple of God, this
mansion of His where He and the soul rejoice in each other alone in profound
silence. The mind need not act nor search for anything, as the Lord Who created
it wishes it to be at rest and only to watch through a little chink, what
passes within. Though at times it cannot see this, yet such intervals are very
short, I believe because the powers are not here lost but only cease to work,
being, as it were, dazed with astonishment.

10.
I, too, am astonished at seeing that when the soul arrives at this state it
does not go into ecstasies except perhaps on rare occasions—even then they are
not like the former trances and the flight of the spirit and seldom take place
in public as they did before.[350]  They are no longer produced by any special
calls to devotion, such as by the sight of a religious picture, by hearing a
sermon (were it only the first few words), or by sacred music; formerly, like
the poor little butterfly, the soul was
so anxious that anything used to alarm it and make it take flight. This may be
either because the spirit has at last found repose, or that it has seen such
wonders in this mansion that nothing can frighten it, or perhaps because it no
longer feels solitary since it rejoices in such Company.

11.
In short, sisters, I cannot tell the reason, but as soon as God shows the soul
what this mansion contains, bringing it to dwell within the precincts, the
infirmity formerly so troublesome to the mind and impossible to get over,
disappears at once. Probably this is because our Lord has now strengthened,
dilated, and developed the soul, or it may be that He wished to make public
(for some end known only to Himself) what He was doing in secret within such
souls, for His judgments are beyond our comprehension in this life.

12.
These effects, with all the other good fruits I have mentioned of the different
degrees of prayer, are given by God to the soul when it draws near Him to
receive that ‘kiss of His mouth’ for which the bride asked,(Cant. i. 1) I.  and I believe her petition is now granted.
Here the overflowing waters are given to the wounded hart: here she delights in
the tabernacles of God[351]
: here the dove sent out by Noe to see whether the flood had subsided, has
plucked the olive branch, showing that she has found firm land amongst the
floods and tempests of this world.(Gen. viii. 10, 11).  O Jesus! Who knows how much in Holy Scripture
refers to this peace of soul? Since, O my God, Thou dost see of what grave
import is this peace to
us, do Thou incite Christians to strive to gain it! In Thy mercy do not deprive
those of it on whom Thou hast bestowed it, for until Thou hast given them true
peace and brought them to where it is unending, they must ever live in fear.

13.
I do not mean that peace is unreal on earth because I say ‘true peace,’ but
that such souls might have to begin all their struggles over again if they
forsook God. What must these people feel at the thought that it is possible to
lose so great a good? Their dread makes them more careful; they try to gather
strength from their weakness lest, through their own fault, they should miss
any opportunity of pleasing God better. The greater the favours they have
received from His Majesty, the more diffident and mistrustful are they of
themselves; the marvels they have witnessed having revealed more clearly to
them their own miseries and the heinousness of their sins, so that often, like
the publican, they dare not so much as lift up their eyes.(St. Luke. xviii. 13).

14.
Sometimes they long to die and be in safety, but then their love at once makes
them wish to live in order to serve God, as I told you; therefore they commit
all that concerns them to His mercy.[352]  At times they are more crushed than ever by
the thought of the many graces they have received lest, like an overladen ship,
they sink beneath the burden. I assure you, sisters, such souls have their
cross to bear, yet it does not trouble them nor rob them of their peace, but is
quickly gone like a wave or a storm which is followed by a calm, for God’s
presence
within them soon makes them forget all else. May He be for ever blessed and
praised by all His creatures! Amen,

The Seventh Mansions

Chapter IV.

THE
CONCLUSION SETS FORTH WHAT APPEARS TO BE OUR LORD’S PRINCIPAL INTENTION IN
CONFERRING THESE SUBLIME FAVOURS ON SOULS, AND EXPLAINS HOW NECESSARY IT IS FOR
MARY AND MARTHA TO GO TOGETHER. THIS CHAPTER IS VERY PROFITABLE.

1. Vicissitudes of the Seventh Mansion. 2.
Humility produced by them. 3. Such souls free from mortal and from wilful
venial sins. 4. The fate of Solomon. 5. Holy fear. 6. These favours strengthen
souls to suffer. 7. Crosses borne by the saints. 8. Effect of vision of our
Lord on St. Peter. 9. Fruits of these favours. 10. Why the spiritual marriage
takes place. 11. Love for Christ proved by our deeds. 12. True spirituality.
13. Humility and the virtues must combine with prayer. 14. Zeal of advanced
souls. 15. Strengthened by the divine Presence within them. 16. Examples of the
saints. 17. Both Martha and Mary must serve our Lord. 18. Christ’s food. 19.
Mary’s mortification. 20. Her grief at the Passion. 21. Can we lead souls to
God? 22. How to do so. 23. Love gives value to our deeds. 24. Conclusion.

1.
You must not suppose, sisters, that the effects I mentioned always exist in the
same degree in these souls, for as far as I remember, I told you that in most
cases our Lord occasionally leaves such persons to the weakness of their
nature. The venomous creatures from the moat round the castle and the other
mansions at once unite to revenge themselves for the time when they were
deprived of their power.

2.
True, this lasts but a short time—a day perhaps or a little longer—but during
this disturbance, which generally arises from some passing event, these persons
learn what benefits they derive from the
holy Company they are in. Our Lord gives them such great fortitude that they
never desert His service nor the good resolutions they have made, which only
seem to gather strength by trial, nor do their hearts ever turn from them, even
by a slight movement of the will. This trouble rarely happens; our Lord wishes
the soul to keep in mind its natural condition so that it may be humble and may
better understand how much it owes Him, and how great a grace it has received,
and so may praise Him.

3.
Do not fancy that in spite of the strong desire and determination of these
souls that they do not commit imperfections and even fall into many sins: that
is, not wilfully; for such people are
given special grace from God on this point: I mean venial sins. As far as they
are aware, they are free from mortal sins, although they do not feel certain
they may not be guilty of some of which they are ignorant.

4.
This grieves their hearts sorely, as does the sight of the souls perishing
around them; although on the one hand they have strong hopes of not being
themselves among the number of the lost, yet remembering what we are told in
Holy Scripture of the fate of men who, like Solomon, seemed the special
favourites of God[353]  and conversed so familiarly with His Majesty,
they cannot help fearing for themselves.

5.
Let that one among you who feels most confidence on this point fear the most,
for: ‘Blessed is
the man who feareth the Lord,’ as David said.(Ps. cxi. 1). ‘Beatus vir qui
timet Dominum.’  May His Majesty ever protect us. Let us beg
Him never to permit us to offend Him: therein lies our greatest safety. May He
be for ever praised. Amen.

6.
It would be well to tell you, sisters, the reason why God bestows such favours
on souls in this world, although you must have learned this by the effects
produced if you have considered the matter. I return to the matter in order
that none of you may think it is only for the sake of the pleasure such persons
feel, which would be a great mistake on your part, for His Majesty can bestow
no greater favour on us than to give us a life such as was led by His beloved
Son. Therefore, as I have often told you, I feel certain that these graces are
sent to strengthen our weakness so that we may imitate Him by suffering much.

7.
We always find that those nearest to Christ our Lord bear the heaviest cross:
think of what His glorious Mother and the Apostles bore. How do you think St.
Paul went through such immense labours?Though thou shouldst have been rapt up to the
third heaven with Saint Paul, thou art not thereby secured that thou shalt
suffer no adversity. ‘I,’ said Jesus, ‘will shew him how great things he must
suffer for My name’s sake’ ((Acts. ix. 16)). To suffer, therefore, is what waits
for thee, if thou wilt love Jesus and constantly serve Him For our merit and
the advancement of our state consist not in having many sweetnesses and
consolations, but rather in bearing great afflictions and tribulations’
(Imitation, bk. ii. ch. xii. 12).  We learn from his conduct the fruits of
genuine visions and contemplation which come from our Lord and not from our own
imagination, or the devil’s fraud. Do you suppose that St. Paul hid himself to
enjoy these spiritual consolations at leisure
and did nothing else? You know that he never took a day’s rest so far as we can
learn, nor could he have slept much since he worked all night to get his
living.[354]

8.
I am delighted with St. Peter, who when fleeing from prison was met by our
Lord, Who told him He was going to Rome to be crucified again. I never recite
the Office in which this is commemorated without feeling a special joy.[355]  What effect did this vision have on St.
Peter, and what did he do? He went at once to meet his death—and our Lord did
him no small favour in finding him an executioner!

9.
Oh, my sisters, how forgetful of her ease, how unmindful of honours, and how
far from seeking men’s esteem should she be whose soul God thus chooses for His
special dwelling-place! For if her mind is fixed on Him, as it ought to be, she
must needs forget herself: all her thoughts are bent on how to please Him
better and when and how she can show the love she bears Him.

10.
This is the end and aim of prayer, my
daughters; this is the reason of the
spiritual marriage whose children are always good works. Works are the unmistakable sign which shows these favours come from
God, as I told you. It will do me little
good
to be deeply recollected when alone, making acts of the virtues, planning and
promising to do wonders in God’s service, if afterwards, when occasion offers,
I do just the opposite. I did wrong in saying, ‘It will do me little good,’ for all the time we spend
with God does us great good. Though
afterwards we may weakly fail to perform our good intentions, yet some time or
other His Majesty will find a way for us to practise them although perhaps much
to our regret. Thus when He sees a soul very cowardly, He often sends it some
great affliction, much against its will, and brings it through this trial with
profit to itself, When the soul has learnt this, it is less timid in offering
itself to Him.

11.
I ought to have said, ‘will do us little
good’ in comparison with the far greater
good we can gain when our works fulfil our aspirations and our promises. She
that cannot do all this at once should do it little by little, gradually
dominating her will, if she wishes to gain fruit from prayer. Even in this
little nook she will find many a chance to praise this. Remember, this is of
far more importance than I know how to express. Fix your eyes on the Crucified
One, and all will seem easy. If His Majesty proved His love for us by such
stupendous labours and sufferings, how can you seek to please Him by words alone?

12.
Do you know what it is to be truly spiritual? It is for men to make themselves
the slaves of God—branded with His
mark, which is the cross. Since they have given Him their freedom, He can sell them
as slaves to the whole world, as He was, which would be doing them no wrong but
the greatest favour. Unless you make up your minds to this, never expect to
make much progress,[356]  for as I said humility is the foundation of
the whole building and unless you are truly humble, our Lord, for your own
sake, will never permit you to rear it very high lest it should fall to the
ground.

13.
Therefore, sisters, take care to lay a firm foundation by seeking to be the
least of all and the slave of others, watching how you can please and help
them, for it will benefit you more than them. Built on such strong rocks, your
castle can never go to ruin. I insist again: your foundation must not consist
of prayer and contemplation alone: unless you acquire the virtues and praise
them, you will always be dwarfs; and please God no worse may befall you than
making no progress, for you know that to stop
is to go back—if you love, you will
never be content to come to a standstill.

14.
Perhaps you think I am speaking of beginners and that one may rest later on,
but, as I told you, the rest such souls feel is within them: they have less outwardly
nor do they wish for it. Why, do you think, does the soul send from its centre
these inspirations, or rather aspirations, (the messages of which I spoke), to
the dwellers in the precincts of the castle and to the surrounding mansions? To
send them to sleep? No, no, no! The soul wages a fiercer war from thence to
keep the powers, senses
and the whole body from being idle, than ever it did when it suffered in their
company. Formerly it did not understand the immense benefit its afflictions
brought, though indeed they may have been the means God used to advance it to
this state.

15.
Besides, the company it enjoys gives it far greater strength than ever before.
If, as David says: ‘With the holy thou shalt be holy,’(Ps. xvii. 26): ‘Cum sancto sanctus
eris.’  doubtless by its becoming one with the
Almighty, by this sovereign union of spirit with spirit, the soul must gather
strength, as we know the saints did, to suffer and to die. Beyond doubt, with
the force thus gained, the soul succours all within the castle and even the
very body itself, which often seems to have no feeling left in it. The vigour
the soul derives from ‘the wine’ drunk in the ‘cellar’(Cant. ii. 4).  (into which the Bridegroom brought her and
would not let her go) overflows into the feeble body, just as the food we eat
nourishes both the head and the whole frame.

16.
Indeed the body suffers much while alive, for whatever work it does, the soul
has energy for far greater tasks and goads it on to more, for all it can
perform appears as nothing. This must be the reason of the severe penances
performed by many of the saints, especially the glorious Magdalen, who had
always spent her life in luxury.[357]  This caused
the zeal felt by our Father Elias for the honour of God,[358]  and the desires of St. Dominic,[359]  and St. Francis[360]  to draw souls to praise the Almighty. I
assure you that, forgetful of themselves, they must have passed through no
small trials.

17.
This, my sisters, is what I would have us strive for—to offer our petitions
and to practise prayer, not for our own enjoyment but to gain strength to serve
God. Let us seek no fresh path; we should lose ourselves in ways of ease. It
would be a strange thing to fancy we should gain these graces by any other road
than that by which Jesus and all His saints have gone before. Let us not dream
of such a thing: believe me, both Martha and Mary must entertain our Lord and
keep Him as their Guest, nor must they be so inhospitable as to offer Him no
food. How can Mary do this while
she sits at His feet, if her sister does not help her?(St. Luke x. 39). Life, ch. xvii. 6. Rel. viii. 6. Way of Perf.
ch. xxxi. 4. Concep. ch. vii. 4.

18.
His food is that in every possible way we should draw souls to Him so that they
may be saved and may praise Him for ever. You may offer two objections—first,
that I said that Mary had chosen the better part,[361]  for she had already done Martha’s work by
waiting on our Lord, by washing His feet and by wiping them with her hair.

19.
Do you think it was a small mortification for a woman of rank, as she was, to
go through the street, perhaps by herself, for in her zeal she never thought of
how she went? Then she entered a house where she was a stranger and had to bear
the railing of the Pharisee and many other trials.[362]  It was strange to see such a woman as she had
been thus publicly change her life. With a wicked nation like the Jews, the
sight of her love for our Lord Whom they hated so bitterly was enough to make
them cast in her face her former life and taunt her with wanting to become a
saint. Doubtless she must have changed her rich robes and all the rest.
Considering how men talk now of people far less known than she was, what must
have been said of her?

20.
I assure you, sisters, she won the better part after many crosses and
mortifications. Must not the mere sight of men’s hatred of her Master have been
an intolerable trial? Then, think of what she endured
afterwards at our Lord’s death! I believe, myself, that she did not suffer
martyrdom because she was already a martyr by grief at witnessing the
crucifixion.[363]  Then what terrible pain His absence must have
caused her[364]  during the long years afterwards! You see,
she was not always enjoying contemplation at the feet of our Saviour!

21.
Secondly, you may say that you have neither the power nor the means to lead
souls to God; though you would willingly do so, you do not know how, as you can
neither teach nor preach as did the Apostles. I have often written an answer to
this objection though I cannot tell whether I have done so in connection with
the Castle. However, as the difficulty probably often crosses your minds on
account of the desires our Lord gives you of serving Him, I will now speak of
it again.[365]  I told you elsewhere how the devil frequently
fills our thoughts with great schemes, so that instead of putting our hands to
what work we can do to serve our Lord, we may rest satisfied with wishing to
perform impossibilities.

22.
You can do much by prayer; and then, do not try to help the whole world, but
principally your companions; this work will be all the better because you are
the more bound to it. Do you think it is a trifling matter that your humility
and mortification, your readiness to serve your sisters, your fervent charity
towards them, and your love of God, should be as a fire to enkindle their zeal, and
that you should constantly incite them to practise the other virtues? This
would be a great work and one most pleasing to our Lord: by thus doing all that
is in your power, you would prove to His Majesty your willingness to do still
more and He would reward you as if you had won Him many souls. Do you answer:
’This would not be converting my sisters, for they are very good already?’ What
business is that of yours? If they were still better, the praise they render
God would please Him more and their prayers would be more helpful to their
neighbours.[366]

23.
In short, my sisters, I will conclude with this advice; do not build towers
without a foundation, for our Lord does not care so much for the importance of
our works as for the love with which they are done. When we do all we can, His
Majesty will enable us to do more every day. If we do not grow weary, but
during the brief time this life lasts (and perhaps it will be shorter than any
of you think) we give our Lord every sacrifice we can, both interior and
exterior, His Majesty will unite them with that He offered to His Father for us
on the Cross so that they may be worth the value given them by our love,
however mean the works themselves may be.

24.
May it please His Majesty, my sisters and my daughters, that we may all meet
together where we may praise Him for ever, and may He give me grace to practice
something of what I have taught you, by the merits of His Son, Who liveth and reigneth
for ever! Amen. I assure you that I am filled with confusion at myself and I
beg you, for the sake of the same Lord, not to forget this poor sinner in your
prayers.

The Seventh Mansions

IHS

ALTHOUGH,
as I told you, I felt reluctant to begin this work, yet now it is finished I am
very glad to have written it, and I think my trouble has been well spent,
though I confess it has cost me but little. Considering your strict enclosure,
the little recreation you have, my sisters, and how many conveniences are
wanting in some of your convents, I think it may console you to enjoy
yourselves in this interior castle which you can enter, and walk about at will,
at any hour you please, without asking leave of your superiors. It is true you
cannot enter all the mansions by your own power, however great it may appear to
you, unless the Lord of the castle Himself admits you. Therefore I advise you
to use no violence if you meet with any obstacle, for that would displease Him
so much that He would never give you admission to them. He dearly loves
humility:[367]  if you think yourselves unworthy to enter the
third mansion, He will grant you all the sooner the favour of entering the
fifth. Then, if you serve Him well there and often repair to it, He will draw
you into the mansion where He dwells Himself, whence you need never depart
unless called away by the Prioress, whose commands
this sovereign Master wishes you to obey as if they were His own. If by her
orders, you are often absent from His presence chamber, whenever you return He
will hold the door open for you. When once you have learnt how to enjoy this
castle, you will always find rest, however painful your trials may be, in the
hope of returning to your Lord, which no one can prevent. Although I have only
mentioned seven mansions, yet each one contains many more rooms, above, below,
and around it, with fair gardens, fountains, and labyrinths, besides other
things so delightful that you will wish to consume yourself in praising in
return the great God Who has created the soul to His own image and likeness. If
you find anything in the plan of this treatise which helps you to know Him
better, be certain that it is sent by His Majesty to encourage you, and that
whatever you find amiss in it is my own. In return for my strong desire to aid
you in serving Him, my God and my Lord, I implore you, whenever you read this,
to praise His Majesty fervently in my name and to beg Him to prosper His
Church, to give light to the Lutherans, to pardon my sins and to free me from
purgatory, where perhaps I shall be, by the mercy of God, when you see this
book (if it is given to you after having been examined by theologians). If
these writings contain any error, it is through my ignorance; I submit in all
things to the teachings of the holy Catholic Roman Church, of which I am now a
member, as I protest and promise I will be both in life and death. May our Lord
God be for ever praised and blessed! Amen, Amen.

I
finished writing this book in the convent of St. Joseph of Avila, 1577, on the
Vigil of St. Andrew, for the glory of God, Who liveth and reigneth for ever and
ever! Amen.

HERE
ENDS THE INTERIOR CASTLE

OR THE MANSIONS

TRANSLATED AND PRINTED BY THE

BENEDICTINES OF STANBROOK

A.D. MCMXXI

Romans 8

1

There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who don’t walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit.

2

For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus made me free from the law of sin and of death.

3

For what the law couldn’t do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God did, sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh;

4

that the ordinance of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.

5

For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit, the things of the Spirit.

6

For the mind of the flesh is death, but the mind of the Spirit is life and peace;

7

because the mind of the flesh is hostile toward God; for it is not subject to God’s law, neither indeed can it be.

8

Those who are in the flesh can’t please God.

9

But you are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if it is so that the Spirit of God dwells in you. But if any man doesn’t have the Spirit of Christ, he is not his.

10

If Christ is in you, the body is dead because of sin, but the spirit is alive because of righteousness.

11

But if the Spirit of him who raised up Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised up Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you.

12

So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live after the flesh.

13

For if you live after the flesh, you must die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.

14

For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, these are children of God.

15

For you didn’t receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!”

16

The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God;

17

and if children, then heirs: heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with him, that we may also be glorified with him.

18

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which will be revealed toward us.

19

For the creation waits with eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed.

20

For the creation was subjected to vanity, not of its own will, but because of him who subjected it, in hope

21

that the creation itself also will be delivered from the bondage of decay into the liberty of the glory of the children of God.

22

For we know that the whole creation groans and travails in pain together until now.

23

Not only so, but ourselves also, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for adoption, the redemption of our body.

24

For we were saved in hope, but hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for that which he sees?

25

But if we hope for that which we don’t see, we wait for it with patience.

26

In the same way, the Spirit also helps our weaknesses, for we don’t know how to pray as we ought. But the Spirit himself makes intercession for us with groanings which can’t be uttered.

27

He who searches the hearts knows what is on the Spirit’s mind, because he makes intercession for the saints according to God.

28

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, for those who are called according to his purpose.

29

For whom he foreknew, he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.

30

Whom he predestined, those he also called. Whom he called, those he also justified. Whom he justified, those he also glorified.

31

What then shall we say about these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?

32

He who didn’t spare his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how would he not also with him freely give us all things?

33

Who could bring a charge against God’s chosen ones? It is God who justifies.

34

Who is he who condemns? It is Christ who died, yes rather, who was raised from the dead, who is at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us.

35

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Could oppression, or anguish, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

36

Even as it is written,

“For your sake we are killed all day long.

We were accounted as sheep for the slaughter.”

37

No, in all these things, we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

38

For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers,

39

nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing will be able to separate us from God’s love which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

2 Corinthians 4

1

Therefore seeing we have this ministry, even as we obtained mercy, we don’t faint.

2

But we have renounced the hidden things of shame, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully, but by the manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man’s conscience in the sight of God.

3

Even if our Good News is veiled, it is veiled in those who are dying,

4

in whom the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelieving, that the light of the Good News of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God, should not dawn on them.

5

For we don’t preach ourselves, but Christ Jesus as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake,

6

seeing it is God who said, “Light will shine out of darkness,” who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

7

But we have this treasure in clay vessels, that the exceeding greatness of the power may be of God, and not from ourselves.

8

We are pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, yet not to despair;

9

pursued, yet not forsaken; struck down, yet not destroyed;

10

always carrying in the body the putting to death of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.

11

For we who live are always delivered to death for Jesus’ sake, that the life also of Jesus may be revealed in our mortal flesh.

12

So then death works in us, but life in you.

13

But having the same spirit of faith, according to that which is written, “I believed, and therefore I spoke.” We also believe, and therefore we also speak;

14

knowing that he who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus, and will present us with you.

15

For all things are for your sakes, that the grace, being multiplied through the many, may cause the thanksgiving to abound to the glory of God.

16

Therefore we don’t faint, but though our outward person is decaying, yet our inward person is renewed day by day.

17

For our light affliction, which is for the moment, works for us more and more exceedingly an eternal weight of glory,

18

while we don’t look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.

Exodus 33

1

Yahweh spoke to Moses, “Depart, go up from here, you and the people that you have brought up out of the land of Egypt, to the land of which I swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, saying, ‘I will give it to your offspring.’

2

I will send an angel before you; and I will drive out the Canaanite, the Amorite, and the Hittite, and the Perizzite, the Hivite, and the Jebusite.

3

Go to a land flowing with milk and honey; but I will not go up among you, for you are a stiff-necked people, lest I consume you on the way.”

4

When the people heard this evil news, they mourned; and no one put on his jewelry.

5

Yahweh had said to Moses, “Tell the children of Israel, ‘You are a stiff-necked people. If I were to go up among you for one moment, I would consume you. Therefore now take off your jewelry from you, that I may know what to do to you.’ ”

6

The children of Israel stripped themselves of their jewelry from Mount Horeb onward.

7

Now Moses used to take the tent and pitch it outside the camp, far away from the camp, and he called it “The Tent of Meeting.” Everyone who sought Yahweh went out to the Tent of Meeting, which was outside the camp.

8

When Moses went out to the Tent, all the people rose up, and stood, everyone at their tent door, and watched Moses, until he had gone into the Tent.

9

When Moses entered into the Tent, the pillar of cloud descended, stood at the door of the Tent, and Yahweh spoke with Moses.

10

All the people saw the pillar of cloud stand at the door of the Tent, and all the people rose up and worshiped, everyone at their tent door.

11

Yahweh spoke to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his friend. He turned again into the camp, but his servant Joshua, the son of Nun, a young man, didn’t depart from the Tent.

12

Moses said to Yahweh, “Behold, you tell me, ‘Bring up this people;’ and you haven’t let me know whom you will send with me. Yet you have said, ‘I know you by name, and you have also found favor in my sight.’

13

Now therefore, if I have found favor in your sight, please show me your way, now, that I may know you, so that I may find favor in your sight; and consider that this nation is your people.”

14

He said, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”

15

Moses said to him, “If your presence doesn’t go with me, don’t carry us up from here.

16

For how would people know that I have found favor in your sight, I and your people? Isn’t it that you go with us, so that we are separated, I and your people, from all the people who are on the surface of the earth?”

17

Yahweh said to Moses, “I will do this thing also that you have spoken; for you have found favor in my sight, and I know you by name.”

18

Moses said, “Please show me your glory.”

19

He said, “I will make all my goodness pass before you, and will proclaim Yahweh’s name before you. I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy.”

20

He said, “You cannot see my face, for man may not see me and live.”

21

Yahweh also said, “Behold, there is a place by me, and you shall stand on the rock.

22

It will happen, while my glory passes by, that I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and will cover you with my hand until I have passed by;

23

then I will take away my hand, and you will see my back; but my face shall not be seen.”

Numbers 12

1

Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses because of the Cushite woman whom he had married; for he had married a Cushite woman.

2

They said, “Has Yahweh indeed spoken only with Moses? Hasn’t he spoken also with us?” And Yahweh heard it.

3

Now the man Moses was very humble, more than all the men who were on the surface of the earth.

4

Yahweh spoke suddenly to Moses, to Aaron, and to Miriam, “You three come out to the Tent of Meeting!”

The three of them came out.

5

Yahweh came down in a pillar of cloud, and stood at the door of the Tent, and called Aaron and Miriam; and they both came forward.

6

He said, “Now hear my words. If there is a prophet among you, I, Yahweh, will make myself known to him in a vision. I will speak with him in a dream.

7

My servant Moses is not so. He is faithful in all my house.

8

With him, I will speak mouth to mouth, even plainly, and not in riddles; and he shall see Yahweh’s form. Why then were you not afraid to speak against my servant, against Moses?”

9

Yahweh’s anger burned against them; and he departed.

10

The cloud departed from over the Tent; and behold, Miriam was leprous, as white as snow. Aaron looked at Miriam, and behold, she was leprous.

11

Aaron said to Moses, “Oh, my lord, please don’t count this sin against us, in which we have done foolishly, and in which we have sinned.

12

Let her not, I pray, be as one dead, of whom the flesh is half consumed when he comes out of his mother’s womb.”

13

Moses cried to Yahweh, saying, “Heal her, God, I beg you!”

14

Yahweh said to Moses, “If her father had but spit in her face, shouldn’t she be ashamed seven days? Let her be shut up outside of the camp seven days, and after that she shall be brought in again.”

15

Miriam was shut up outside of the camp seven days, and the people didn’t travel until Miriam was brought in again.

16

Afterward the people traveled from Hazeroth, and encamped in the wilderness of Paran.

John 14

1

“Don’t let your heart be troubled. Believe in God. Believe also in me.

2

In my Father’s house are many homes. If it weren’t so, I would have told you. I am going to prepare a place for you.

3

If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and will receive you to myself; that where I am, you may be there also.

4

You know where I go, and you know the way.”

5

Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going. How can we know the way?”

6

Jesus said to him,

“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father, except through me.

7

If you had known me, you would have known my Father also. From now on, you know him, and have seen him.”

8

Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father, and that will be enough for us.”

9

Jesus said to him,

“Have I been with you such a long time, and do you not know me, Philip? He who has seen me has seen the Father. How do you say, ‘Show us the Father?’

10

Don’t you believe that I am in the Father, and the Father in me? The words that I tell you, I speak not from myself; but the Father who lives in me does his works.

11

Believe me that I am in the Father, and the Father in me; or else believe me for the very works’ sake.

12

Most certainly I tell you, he who believes in me, the works that I do, he will do also; and he will do greater works than these, because I am going to my Father.

13

Whatever you will ask in my name, I will do it, that the Father may be glorified in the Son.

14

If you will ask anything in my name, I will do it.

15

If you love me, keep my commandments.

16

I will pray to the Father, and he will give you another Counselor,

that he may be with you forever:

17

the Spirit of truth, whom the world can’t receive; for it doesn’t see him and doesn’t know him. You know him, for he lives with you, and will be in you.

18

I will not leave you orphans. I will come to you.

19

Yet a little while, and the world will see me no more; but you will see me. Because I live, you will live also.

20

In that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you.

21

One who has my commandments and keeps them, that person is one who loves me. One who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him, and will reveal myself to him.”

22

Judas (not Iscariot) said to him, “Lord, what has happened that you are about to reveal yourself to us, and not to the world?”

23

Jesus answered him,

“If a man loves me, he will keep my word. My Father will love him, and we will come to him, and make our home with him.

24

He who doesn’t love me doesn’t keep my words. The word which you hear isn’t mine, but the Father’s who sent me.

25

I have said these things to you while still living with you.

26

But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things, and will remind you of all that I said to you.

27

Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you; not as the world gives, I give to you. Don’t let your heart be troubled, neither let it be fearful.

28

You heard how I told you, ‘I go away, and I come to you.’ If you loved me, you would have rejoiced, because I said ‘I am going to my Father;’ for the Father is greater than I.

29

Now I have told you before it happens so that when it happens, you may believe.

30

I will no more speak much with you, for the prince of the world comes, and he has nothing in me.

31

But that the world may know that I love the Father, and as the Father commanded me, even so I do. Arise, let’s go from here.

Proverbs 8

1

Doesn’t wisdom cry out?

Doesn’t understanding raise her voice?

2

On the top of high places by the way,

where the paths meet, she stands.

3

Beside the gates, at the entry of the city,

at the entry doors, she cries aloud:

4

“I call to you men!

I send my voice to the sons of mankind.

5

You simple, understand prudence!

You fools, be of an understanding heart!

6

Hear, for I will speak excellent things.

The opening of my lips is for right things.

7

For my mouth speaks truth.

Wickedness is an abomination to my lips.

8

All the words of my mouth are in righteousness.

There is nothing crooked or perverse in them.

9

They are all plain to him who understands,

right to those who find knowledge.

10

Receive my instruction rather than silver,

knowledge rather than choice gold.

11

For wisdom is better than rubies.

All the things that may be desired can’t be compared to it.

12

“I, wisdom, have made prudence my dwelling.

Find out knowledge and discretion.

13

The fear of Yahweh is to hate evil.

I hate pride, arrogance, the evil way, and the perverse mouth.

14

Counsel and sound knowledge are mine.

I have understanding and power.

15

By me kings reign,

and princes decree justice.

16

By me princes rule,

nobles, and all the righteous rulers of the earth.

17

I love those who love me.

Those who seek me diligently will find me.

18

With me are riches, honor,

enduring wealth, and prosperity.

19

My fruit is better than gold, yes, than fine gold,

my yield than choice silver.

20

I walk in the way of righteousness,

in the middle of the paths of justice,

21

that I may give wealth to those who love me.

I fill their treasuries.

22

“Yahweh possessed me in the beginning of his work,

before his deeds of old.

23

I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning,

before the earth existed.

24

When there were no depths, I was born,

when there were no springs abounding with water.

25

Before the mountains were settled in place,

before the hills, I was born;

26

while as yet he had not made the earth, nor the fields,

nor the beginning of the dust of the world.

27

When he established the heavens, I was there.

When he set a circle on the surface of the deep,

28

when he established the clouds above,

when the springs of the deep became strong,

29

when he gave to the sea its boundary,

that the waters should not violate his commandment,

when he marked out the foundations of the earth,

30

then I was the craftsman by his side.

I was a delight day by day,

always rejoicing before him,

31

rejoicing in his whole world.

My delight was with the sons of men.

32

“Now therefore, my sons, listen to me,

for blessed are those who keep my ways.

33

Hear instruction, and be wise.

Don’t refuse it.

34

Blessed is the man who hears me,

watching daily at my gates,

waiting at my door posts.

35

For whoever finds me, finds life,

and will obtain favor from Yahweh.

36

But he who sins against me wrongs his own soul.

All those who hate me love death.”

Genesis 1

1

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

2

The earth was formless and empty. Darkness was on the surface of the deep and God’s Spirit was hovering over the surface of the waters.

3

God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.

4

God saw the light, and saw that it was good. God divided the light from the darkness.

5

God called the light “day”, and the darkness he called “night”. There was evening and there was morning, the first day.

6

God said, “Let there be an expanse in the middle of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters.”

7

God made the expanse, and divided the waters which were under the expanse from the waters which were above the expanse; and it was so.

8

God called the expanse “sky”. There was evening and there was morning, a second day.

9

God said, “Let the waters under the sky be gathered together to one place, and let the dry land appear;” and it was so.

10

God called the dry land “earth”, and the gathering together of the waters he called “seas”. God saw that it was good.

11

God said, “Let the earth yield grass, herbs yielding seeds, and fruit trees bearing fruit after their kind, with their seeds in it, on the earth;” and it was so.

12

The earth yielded grass, herbs yielding seed after their kind, and trees bearing fruit, with their seeds in it, after their kind; and God saw that it was good.

13

There was evening and there was morning, a third day.

14

God said, “Let there be lights in the expanse of the sky to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs to mark seasons, days, and years;

15

and let them be for lights in the expanse of the sky to give light on the earth;” and it was so.

16

God made the two great lights: the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night. He also made the stars.

17

God set them in the expanse of the sky to give light to the earth,

18

and to rule over the day and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness. God saw that it was good.

19

There was evening and there was morning, a fourth day.

20

God said, “Let the waters abound with living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth in the open expanse of the sky.”

21

God created the large sea creatures and every living creature that moves, with which the waters swarmed, after their kind, and every winged bird after its kind. God saw that it was good.

22

God blessed them, saying, “Be fruitful, and multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and let birds multiply on the earth.”

23

There was evening and there was morning, a fifth day.

24

God said, “Let the earth produce living creatures after their kind, livestock, creeping things, and animals of the earth after their kind;” and it was so.

25

God made the animals of the earth after their kind, and the livestock after their kind, and everything that creeps on the ground after its kind. God saw that it was good.

26

God said, “Let’s make man in our image, after our likeness. Let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the sky, and over the livestock, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”

27

God created man in his own image. In God’s image he created him; male and female he created them.

28

God blessed them. God said to them, “Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, and subdue it. Have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the sky, and over every living thing that moves on the earth.”

29

God said, “Behold, I have given you every herb yielding seed, which is on the surface of all the earth, and every tree, which bears fruit yielding seed. It will be your food.

30

To every animal of the earth, and to every bird of the sky, and to everything that creeps on the earth, in which there is life, I have given every green herb for food;” and it was so.

31

God saw everything that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. There was evening and there was morning, a sixth day.

Matthew 20

1

“For the Kingdom of Heaven is like a man who was the master of a household, who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard.

2

When he had agreed with the laborers for a denarius

a day, he sent them into his vineyard.

3

He went out about the third hour,

and saw others standing idle in the marketplace.

4

He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and whatever is right I will give you.’ So they went their way.

5

Again he went out about the sixth and the ninth hour,

and did likewise.

6

About the eleventh hour

he went out and found others standing idle. He said to them, ‘Why do you stand here all day idle?’

7

“They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’

“He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and you will receive whatever is right.’

8

“When evening had come, the lord of the vineyard said to his manager, ‘Call the laborers and pay them their wages, beginning from the last to the first.’

9

“When those who were hired at about the eleventh hour came, they each received a denarius.

10

When the first came, they supposed that they would receive more; and they likewise each received a denarius.

11

When they received it, they murmured against the master of the household,

12

saying, ‘These last have spent one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat!’

13

“But he answered one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Didn’t you agree with me for a denarius?

14

Take that which is yours, and go your way. It is my desire to give to this last just as much as to you.

15

Isn’t it lawful for me to do what I want to with what I own? Or is your eye evil, because I am good?’

16

So the last will be first, and the first last. For many are called, but few are chosen.”

17

As Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he took the twelve disciples aside, and on the way he said to them,

18

“Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death,

19

and will hand him over to the Gentiles to mock, to scourge, and to crucify; and the third day he will be raised up.”

20

Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee came to him with her sons, kneeling and asking a certain thing of him.

21

He said to her,

“What do you want?”

She said to him, “Command that these, my two sons, may sit, one on your right hand and one on your left hand, in your Kingdom.”

22

But Jesus answered,

“You don’t know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am about to drink, and be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?”

They said to him, “We are able.”

23

He said to them,

“You will indeed drink my cup, and be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with; but to sit on my right hand and on my left hand is not mine to give, but it is for whom it has been prepared by my Father.”

24

When the ten heard it, they were indignant with the two brothers.

25

But Jesus summoned them, and said,

“You know that the rulers of the nations lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them.

26

It shall not be so among you; but whoever desires to become great among you shall be

your servant.

27

Whoever desires to be first among you shall be your bondservant,

28

even as the Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

29

As they went out from Jericho, a great multitude followed him.

30

Behold, two blind men sitting by the road, when they heard that Jesus was passing by, cried out, “Lord, have mercy on us, you son of David!”

31

The multitude rebuked them, telling them that they should be quiet, but they cried out even more, “Lord, have mercy on us, you son of David!”

32

Jesus stood still and called them, and asked,

“What do you want me to do for you?”

33

They told him, “Lord, that our eyes may be opened.”

34

Jesus, being moved with compassion, touched their eyes; and immediately their eyes received their sight, and they followed him.

John 9

1

As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth.

2

His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

3

Jesus answered,

“This man didn’t sin, nor did his parents; but, that the works of God might be revealed in him.

4

I must work the works of him who sent me while it is day. The night is coming, when no one can work.

5

While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”

6

When he had said this, he spat on the ground, made mud with the saliva, anointed the blind man’s eyes with the mud,

7

and said to him,

“Go, wash in the pool of Siloam”

(which means “Sent”). So he went away, washed, and came back seeing.

8

The neighbors therefore, and those who saw that he was blind before, said, “Isn’t this he who sat and begged?”

9

Others were saying, “It is he.” Still others were saying, “He looks like him.”

He said, “I am he.”

10

They therefore were asking him, “How were your eyes opened?”

11

He answered, “A man called Jesus made mud, anointed my eyes, and said to me,

‘Go to the pool of Siloam and wash.’

So I went away and washed, and I received sight.”

12

Then they asked him, “Where is he?”

He said, “I don’t know.”

13

They brought him who had been blind to the Pharisees.

14

It was a Sabbath when Jesus made the mud and opened his eyes.

15

Again therefore the Pharisees also asked him how he received his sight. He said to them, “He put mud on my eyes, I washed, and I see.”

16

Some therefore of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, because he doesn’t keep the Sabbath.” Others said, “How can a man who is a sinner do such signs?” So there was division among them.

17

Therefore they asked the blind man again, “What do you say about him, because he opened your eyes?”

He said, “He is a prophet.”

18

The Jews therefore didn’t believe concerning him, that he had been blind, and had received his sight, until they called the parents of him who had received his sight,

19

and asked them, “Is this your son, whom you say was born blind? How then does he now see?”

20

His parents answered them, “We know that this is our son, and that he was born blind;

21

but how he now sees, we don’t know; or who opened his eyes, we don’t know. He is of age. Ask him. He will speak for himself.”

22

His parents said these things because they feared the Jews; for the Jews had already agreed that if any man would confess him as Christ, he would be put out of the synagogue.

23

Therefore his parents said, “He is of age. Ask him.”

24

So they called the man who was blind a second time, and said to him, “Give glory to God. We know that this man is a sinner.”

25

He therefore answered, “I don’t know if he is a sinner. One thing I do know: that though I was blind, now I see.”

26

They said to him again, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?”

27

He answered them, “I told you already, and you didn’t listen. Why do you want to hear it again? You don’t also want to become his disciples, do you?”

28

They insulted him and said, “You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses.

29

We know that God has spoken to Moses. But as for this man, we don’t know where he comes from.”

30

The man answered them, “How amazing! You don’t know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes.

31

We know that God doesn’t listen to sinners, but if anyone is a worshiper of God, and does his will, he listens to him.

32

Since the world began it has never been heard of that anyone opened the eyes of someone born blind.

33

If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.”

34

They answered him, “You were altogether born in sins, and do you teach us?” Then they threw him out.

35

Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, and finding him, he said,

“Do you believe in the Son of God?”

36

He answered, “Who is he, Lord, that I may believe in him?”

37

Jesus said to him,

“You have both seen him, and it is he who speaks with you.”

38

He said, “Lord, I believe!” and he worshiped him.

39

Jesus said,

“I came into this world for judgment, that those who don’t see may see; and that those who see may become blind.”

40

Those of the Pharisees who were with him heard these things, and said to him, “Are we also blind?”

41

Jesus said to them,

“If you were blind, you would have no sin; but now you say, ‘We see.’ Therefore your sin remains.

Luke 17

1

He said to the disciples,

“It is impossible that no occasions of stumbling should come, but woe to him through whom they come!

2

It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he were thrown into the sea, rather than that he should cause one of these little ones to stumble.

3

Be careful. If your brother sins against you, rebuke him. If he repents, forgive him.

4

If he sins against you seven times in the day, and seven times returns, saying, ‘I repent,’ you shall forgive him.”

5

The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith.”

6

The Lord said,

“If you had faith like a grain of mustard seed, you would tell this sycamore tree, ‘Be uprooted, and be planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.

7

But who is there among you, having a servant plowing or keeping sheep, that will say when he comes in from the field, ‘Come immediately and sit down at the table,’

8

and will not rather tell him, ‘Prepare my supper, clothe yourself properly, and serve me, while I eat and drink. Afterward you shall eat and drink’?

9

Does he thank that servant because he did the things that were commanded? I think not.

10

Even so you also, when you have done all the things that are commanded you, say, ‘We are unworthy servants. We have done our duty.’ ”

11

As he was on his way to Jerusalem, he was passing along the borders of Samaria and Galilee.

12

As he entered into a certain village, ten men who were lepers met him, who stood at a distance.

13

They lifted up their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

14

When he saw them, he said to them,

“Go and show yourselves to the priests.”

As they went, they were cleansed.

15

One of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, glorifying God with a loud voice.

16

He fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving him thanks; and he was a Samaritan.

17

Jesus answered,

“Weren’t the ten cleansed? But where are the nine?

18

Were there none found who returned to give glory to God, except this foreigner?”

19

Then he said to him,

“Get up, and go your way. Your faith has healed you.”

20

Being asked by the Pharisees when God’s Kingdom would come, he answered them,

“God’s Kingdom doesn’t come with observation;

21

neither will they say, ‘Look, here!’ or, ‘Look, there!’ for behold, God’s Kingdom is within you.”

22

He said to the disciples,

“The days will come when you will desire to see one of the days of the Son of Man, and you will not see it.

23

They will tell you, ‘Look, here!’ or ‘Look, there!’ Don’t go away or follow after them,

24

for as the lightning, when it flashes out of one part under the sky, shines to another part under the sky; so will the Son of Man be in his day.

25

But first, he must suffer many things and be rejected by this generation.

26

As it was in the days of Noah, even so it will also be in the days of the Son of Man.

27

They ate, they drank, they married, and they were given in marriage until the day that Noah entered into the ship, and the flood came and destroyed them all.

28

Likewise, even as it was in the days of Lot: they ate, they drank, they bought, they sold, they planted, they built;

29

but in the day that Lot went out from Sodom, it rained fire and sulfur from the sky and destroyed them all.

30

It will be the same way in the day that the Son of Man is revealed.

31

In that day, he who will be on the housetop and his goods in the house, let him not go down to take them away. Let him who is in the field likewise not turn back.

32

Remember Lot’s wife!

33

Whoever seeks to save his life loses it, but whoever loses his life preserves it.

34

I tell you, in that night there will be two people in one bed. One will be taken and the other will be left.

35

There will be two grinding grain together. One will be taken and the other will be left.”

36

37

They, answering, asked him, “Where, Lord?”

He said to them,

“Where the body is, there the vultures will also be gathered together.”

Genesis 19

1

The two angels came to Sodom at evening. Lot sat in the gate of Sodom. Lot saw them, and rose up to meet them. He bowed himself with his face to the earth,

2

and he said, “See now, my lords, please come into your servant’s house, stay all night, wash your feet, and you can rise up early, and go on your way.”

They said, “No, but we will stay in the street all night.”

3

He urged them greatly, and they came in with him, and entered into his house. He made them a feast, and baked unleavened bread, and they ate.

4

But before they lay down, the men of the city, the men of Sodom, surrounded the house, both young and old, all the people from every quarter.

5

They called to Lot, and said to him, “Where are the men who came in to you this night? Bring them out to us, that we may have sex with them.”

6

Lot went out to them through the door, and shut the door after himself.

7

He said, “Please, my brothers, don’t act so wickedly.

8

See now, I have two virgin daughters. Please let me bring them out to you, and you may do to them what seems good to you. Only don’t do anything to these men, because they have come under the shadow of my roof.”

9

They said, “Stand back!” Then they said, “This one fellow came in to live as a foreigner, and he appoints himself a judge. Now we will deal worse with you than with them!” They pressed hard on the man Lot, and came near to break the door.

10

But the men reached out their hand, and brought Lot into the house to them, and shut the door.

11

They struck the men who were at the door of the house with blindness, both small and great, so that they wearied themselves to find the door.

12

The men said to Lot, “Do you have anybody else here? Sons-in-law, your sons, your daughters, and whomever you have in the city, bring them out of the place:

13

for we will destroy this place, because the outcry against them has grown so great before Yahweh that Yahweh has sent us to destroy it.”

14

Lot went out, and spoke to his sons-in-law, who were pledged to marry his daughters, and said, “Get up! Get out of this place, for Yahweh will destroy the city!”

But he seemed to his sons-in-law to be joking.

15

When the morning came, then the angels hurried Lot, saying, “Get up! Take your wife and your two daughters who are here, lest you be consumed in the iniquity of the city.”

16

But he lingered; and the men grabbed his hand, his wife’s hand, and his two daughters’ hands, Yahweh being merciful to him; and they took him out, and set him outside of the city.

17

It came to pass, when they had taken them out, that he said, “Escape for your life! Don’t look behind you, and don’t stay anywhere in the plain. Escape to the mountains, lest you be consumed!”

18

Lot said to them, “Oh, not so, my lord.

19

See now, your servant has found favor in your sight, and you have magnified your loving kindness, which you have shown to me in saving my life. I can’t escape to the mountain, lest evil overtake me, and I die.

20

See now, this city is near to flee to, and it is a little one. Oh let me escape there (isn’t it a little one?), and my soul will live.”

21

He said to him, “Behold, I have granted your request concerning this thing also, that I will not overthrow the city of which you have spoken.

22

Hurry, escape there, for I can’t do anything until you get there.” Therefore the name of the city was called Zoar.

23

The sun had risen on the earth when Lot came to Zoar.

24

Then Yahweh rained on Sodom and on Gomorrah sulfur and fire from Yahweh out of the sky.

25

He overthrew those cities, all the plain, all the inhabitants of the cities, and that which grew on the ground.

26

But Lot’s wife looked back from behind him, and she became a pillar of salt.

27

Abraham went up early in the morning to the place where he had stood before Yahweh.

28

He looked toward Sodom and Gomorrah, and toward all the land of the plain, and saw that the smoke of the land went up as the smoke of a furnace.

29

When God destroyed the cities of the plain, God remembered Abraham, and sent Lot out of the middle of the overthrow, when he overthrew the cities in which Lot lived.

30

Lot went up out of Zoar, and lived in the mountain, and his two daughters with him; for he was afraid to live in Zoar. He lived in a cave with his two daughters.

31

The firstborn said to the younger, “Our father is old, and there is not a man in the earth to come in to us in the way of all the earth.

32

Come, let’s make our father drink wine, and we will lie with him, that we may preserve our father’s family line.”

33

They made their father drink wine that night: and the firstborn went in, and lay with her father. He didn’t know when she lay down, nor when she arose.

34

It came to pass on the next day, that the firstborn said to the younger, “Behold, I lay last night with my father. Let’s make him drink wine again tonight. You go in, and lie with him, that we may preserve our father’s family line.”

35

They made their father drink wine that night also. The younger went and lay with him. He didn’t know when she lay down, nor when she got up.

36

Thus both of Lot’s daughters were with child by their father.

37

The firstborn bore a son, and named him Moab. He is the father of the Moabites to this day.

38

The younger also bore a son, and called his name Ben Ammi. He is the father of the children of Ammon to this day.

John 5

1

After these things, there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem.

2

Now in Jerusalem by the sheep gate, there is a pool, which is called in Hebrew, “Bethesda”, having five porches.

3

In these lay a great multitude of those who were sick, blind, lame, or paralyzed, waiting for the moving of the water;

4

for an angel went down at certain times into the pool and stirred up the water. Whoever stepped in first after the stirring of the water was healed of whatever disease he had.

5

A certain man was there who had been sick for thirty-eight years.

6

When Jesus saw him lying there, and knew that he had been sick for a long time, he asked him,

“Do you want to be made well?”

7

The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, but while I’m coming, another steps down before me.”

8

Jesus said to him,

“Arise, take up your mat, and walk.”

9

Immediately, the man was made well, and took up his mat and walked.

Now it was the Sabbath on that day.

10

So the Jews said to him who was cured, “It is the Sabbath. It is not lawful for you to carry the mat.”

11

He answered them, “He who made me well said to me,

‘Take up your mat and walk.’

”

12

Then they asked him, “Who is the man who said to you,

‘Take up your mat and walk’

?”

13

But he who was healed didn’t know who it was, for Jesus had withdrawn, a crowd being in the place.

14

Afterward Jesus found him in the temple, and said to him,

“Behold, you are made well. Sin no more, so that nothing worse happens to you.”

15

The man went away, and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made him well.

16

For this cause the Jews persecuted Jesus, and sought to kill him, because he did these things on the Sabbath.

17

But Jesus answered them,

“My Father is still working, so I am working, too.”

18

For this cause therefore the Jews sought all the more to kill him, because he not only broke the Sabbath, but also called God his own Father, making himself equal with God.

19

Jesus therefore answered them,

“Most certainly, I tell you, the Son can do nothing of himself, but what he sees the Father doing. For whatever things he does, these the Son also does likewise.

20

For the Father has affection for the Son, and shows him all things that he himself does. He will show him greater works than these, that you may marvel.

21

For as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, even so the Son also gives life to whom he desires.

22

For the Father judges no one, but he has given all judgment to the Son,

23

that all may honor the Son, even as they honor the Father. He who doesn’t honor the Son doesn’t honor the Father who sent him.

24

“Most certainly I tell you, he who hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life, and doesn’t come into judgment, but has passed out of death into life.

25

Most certainly I tell you, the hour comes, and now is, when the dead will hear the Son of God’s voice; and those who hear will live.

26

For as the Father has life in himself, even so he gave to the Son also to have life in himself.

27

He also gave him authority to execute judgment, because he is a son of man.

28

Don’t marvel at this, for the hour comes in which all who are in the tombs will hear his voice,

29

and will come out; those who have done good, to the resurrection of life; and those who have done evil, to the resurrection of judgment.

30

I can of myself do nothing. As I hear, I judge, and my judgment is righteous, because I don’t seek my own will, but the will of my Father who sent me.

31

“If I testify about myself, my witness is not valid.

32

It is another who testifies about me. I know that the testimony which he testifies about me is true.

33

You have sent to John, and he has testified to the truth.

34

But the testimony which I receive is not from man. However, I say these things that you may be saved.

35

He was the burning and shining lamp, and you were willing to rejoice for a while in his light.

36

But the testimony which I have is greater than that of John, for the works which the Father gave me to accomplish, the very works that I do, testify about me, that the Father has sent me.

37

The Father himself, who sent me, has testified about me. You have neither heard his voice at any time, nor seen his form.

38

You don’t have his word living in you, because you don’t believe him whom he sent.

39

“You search the Scriptures, because you think that in them you have eternal life; and these are they which testify about me.

40

Yet you will not come to me, that you may have life.

41

I don’t receive glory from men.

42

But I know you, that you don’t have God’s love in yourselves.

43

I have come in my Father’s name, and you don’t receive me. If another comes in his own name, you will receive him.

44

How can you believe, who receive glory from one another, and you don’t seek the glory that comes from the only God?

45

“Don’t think that I will accuse you to the Father. There is one who accuses you, even Moses, on whom you have set your hope.

46

For if you believed Moses, you would believe me; for he wrote about me.

47

But if you don’t believe his writings, how will you believe my words?”

Matthew 6

1

“Be careful that you don’t do your charitable giving

before men, to be seen by them, or else you have no reward from your Father who is in heaven.

2

Therefore, when you do merciful deeds, don’t sound a trumpet before yourself, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may get glory from men. Most certainly I tell you, they have received their reward.

3

But when you do merciful deeds, don’t let your left hand know what your right hand does,

4

so that your merciful deeds may be in secret, then your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly.

5

“When you pray, you shall not be as the hypocrites, for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen by men. Most certainly, I tell you, they have received their reward.

6

But you, when you pray, enter into your inner room, and having shut your door, pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly.

7

In praying, don’t use vain repetitions as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard for their much speaking.

8

Therefore don’t be like them, for your Father knows what things you need before you ask him.

9

Pray like this:

“ ‘Our Father in heaven, may your name be kept holy.

10

Let your Kingdom come.

Let your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

11

Give us today our daily bread.

12

Forgive us our debts,

as we also forgive our debtors.

13

Bring us not into temptation,

but deliver us from the evil one.

For yours is the Kingdom, the power, and the glory forever. Amen.’

14

“For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.

15

But if you don’t forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

16

“Moreover when you fast, don’t be like the hypocrites, with sad faces. For they disfigure their faces that they may be seen by men to be fasting. Most certainly I tell you, they have received their reward.

17

But you, when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face,

18

so that you are not seen by men to be fasting, but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father, who sees in secret, will reward you.

19

“Don’t lay up treasures for yourselves on the earth, where moth and rust consume, and where thieves break through and steal;

20

but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consume, and where thieves don’t break through and steal;

21

for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

22

“The lamp of the body is the eye. If therefore your eye is sound, your whole body will be full of light.

23

But if your eye is evil, your whole body will be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!

24

“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You can’t serve both God and Mammon.

25

Therefore I tell you, don’t be anxious for your life: what you will eat, or what you will drink; nor yet for your body, what you will wear. Isn’t life more than food, and the body more than clothing?

26

See the birds of the sky, that they don’t sow, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns. Your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you of much more value than they?

27

“Which of you by being anxious, can add one moment

to his lifespan?

28

Why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow. They don’t toil, neither do they spin,

29

yet I tell you that even Solomon in all his glory was not dressed like one of these.

30

But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today exists and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, won’t he much more clothe you, you of little faith?

31

“Therefore don’t be anxious, saying, ‘What will we eat?’, ‘What will we drink?’ or, ‘With what will we be clothed?’

32

For the Gentiles seek after all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.

33

But seek first God’s Kingdom and his righteousness; and all these things will be given to you as well.

34

Therefore don’t be anxious for tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Each day’s own evil is sufficient.

Psalms 1

1

Blessed is the man who doesn’t walk in the counsel of the wicked,

nor stand on the path of sinners,

nor sit in the seat of scoffers;

2

but his delight is in Yahweh’s law.

On his law he meditates day and night.

3

He will be like a tree planted by the streams of water,

that produces its fruit in its season,

whose leaf also does not wither.

Whatever he does shall prosper.

4

The wicked are not so,

but are like the chaff which the wind drives away.

5

Therefore the wicked shall not stand in the judgment,

nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous.

6

For Yahweh knows the way of the righteous,

but the way of the wicked shall perish.

Luke 15

1

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming close to him to hear him.

2

The Pharisees and the scribes murmured, saying, “This man welcomes sinners, and eats with them.”

3

He told them this parable.

4

“Which of you men, if you had one hundred sheep, and lost one of them, wouldn’t leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness, and go after the one that was lost, until he found it?

5

When he has found it, he carries it on his shoulders, rejoicing.

6

When he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost!’

7

I tell you that even so there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents, than over ninety-nine righteous people who need no repentance.

8

Or what woman, if she had ten drachma

coins, if she lost one drachma coin, wouldn’t light a lamp, sweep the house, and seek diligently until she found it?

9

When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the drachma which I had lost.’

10

Even so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner repenting.”

11

He said,

“A certain man had two sons.

12

The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of your property.’ So he divided his livelihood between them.

13

Not many days after, the younger son gathered all of this together and traveled into a far country. There he wasted his property with riotous living.

14

When he had spent all of it, there arose a severe famine in that country, and he began to be in need.

15

He went and joined himself to one of the citizens of that country, and he sent him into his fields to feed pigs.

16

He wanted to fill his belly with the husks that the pigs ate, but no one gave him any.

17

But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many hired servants of my father’s have bread enough to spare, and I’m dying with hunger!

18

I will get up and go to my father, and will tell him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in your sight.

19

I am no more worthy to be called your son. Make me as one of your hired servants.” ’

20

“He arose, and came to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him, and was moved with compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.

21

The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’

22

“But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring out the best robe, and put it on him. Put a ring on his hand, and sandals on his feet.

23

Bring the fattened calf, kill it, and let’s eat, and celebrate;

24

for this, my son, was dead, and is alive again. He was lost, and is found.’ Then they began to celebrate.

25

“Now his elder son was in the field. As he came near to the house, he heard music and dancing.

26

He called one of the servants to him, and asked what was going on.

27

He said to him, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and healthy.’

28

But he was angry, and would not go in. Therefore his father came out, and begged him.

29

But he answered his father, ‘Behold, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed a commandment of yours, but you never gave me a goat, that I might celebrate with my friends.

30

But when this your son came, who has devoured your living with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him.’

31

“He said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.

32

But it was appropriate to celebrate and be glad, for this, your brother, was dead, and is alive again. He was lost, and is found.’ ”

Judges 7

1

Then Jerubbaal, who is Gideon, and all the people who were with him, rose up early and encamped beside the spring of Harod. Midian’s camp was on the north side of them, by the hill of Moreh, in the valley.

2

Yahweh said to Gideon, “The people who are with you are too many for me to give the Midianites into their hand, lest Israel brag against me, saying, ‘My own hand has saved me.’

3

Now therefore proclaim in the ears of the people, saying, ‘Whoever is fearful and trembling, let him return and depart from Mount Gilead.’ ” So twenty-two thousand of the people returned, and ten thousand remained.

4

Yahweh said to Gideon, “There are still too many people. Bring them down to the water, and I will test them for you there. It shall be, that those whom I tell you, ‘This shall go with you,’ shall go with you; and whoever I tell you, ‘This shall not go with you,’ shall not go.”

5

So he brought down the people to the water; and Yahweh said to Gideon, “Everyone who laps of the water with his tongue, like a dog laps, you shall set him by himself; likewise everyone who bows down on his knees to drink.”

6

The number of those who lapped, putting their hand to their mouth, was three hundred men; but all the rest of the people bowed down on their knees to drink water.

7

Yahweh said to Gideon, “I will save you by the three hundred men who lapped, and deliver the Midianites into your hand. Let all the other people go, each to his own place.”

8

So the people took food in their hand, and their trumpets; and he sent all the rest of the men of Israel to their own tents, but retained the three hundred men; and the camp of Midian was beneath him in the valley.

9

That same night, Yahweh said to him, “Arise, go down into the camp, for I have delivered it into your hand.

10

But if you are afraid to go down, go with Purah your servant down to the camp.

11

You will hear what they say; and afterward your hands will be strengthened to go down into the camp.” Then went he down with Purah his servant to the outermost part of the armed men who were in the camp.

12

The Midianites and the Amalekites and all the children of the east lay along in the valley like locusts for multitude; and their camels were without number, as the sand which is on the seashore for multitude.

13

When Gideon had come, behold, there was a man telling a dream to his fellow. He said, “Behold, I dreamed a dream; and behold, a cake of barley bread tumbled into the camp of Midian, came to the tent, and struck it so that it fell, and turned it upside down, so that the tent lay flat.”

14

His fellow answered, “This is nothing other than the sword of Gideon the son of Joash, a man of Israel. God has delivered Midian into his hand, with all the army.”

15

It was so, when Gideon heard the telling of the dream and its interpretation, that he worshiped. Then he returned into the camp of Israel and said, “Arise, for Yahweh has delivered the army of Midian into your hand!”

16

He divided the three hundred men into three companies, and he put into the hands of all them trumpets and empty pitchers, with torches within the pitchers.

17

He said to them, “Watch me, and do likewise. Behold, when I come to the outermost part of the camp, it shall be that, as I do, so you shall do.

18

When I blow the trumpet, I and all who are with me, then blow the trumpets also on every side of all the camp, and shout, ‘For Yahweh and for Gideon!’ ”

19

So Gideon and the hundred men who were with him came to the outermost part of the camp in the beginning of the middle watch, when they had but newly set the watch. Then they blew the trumpets and broke in pieces the pitchers that were in their hands.

20

The three companies blew the trumpets, broke the pitchers, and held the torches in their left hands and the trumpets in their right hands with which to blow; and they shouted, “The sword of Yahweh and of Gideon!”

21

They each stood in his place around the camp, and all the army ran; and they shouted, and put them to flight.

22

They blew the three hundred trumpets, and Yahweh set every man’s sword against his fellow and against all the army; and the army fled as far as Beth Shittah toward Zererah, as far as the border of Abel Meholah, by Tabbath.

23

The men of Israel were gathered together out of Naphtali, out of Asher, and out of all Manasseh, and pursued Midian.

24

Gideon sent messengers throughout all the hill country of Ephraim, saying, “Come down against Midian and take the waters before them as far as Beth Barah, even the Jordan!” So all the men of Ephraim were gathered together and took the waters as far as Beth Barah, even the Jordan.

25

They took the two princes of Midian, Oreb and Zeeb. They killed Oreb at Oreb’s rock, and Zeeb they killed at Zeeb’s wine press, as they pursued Midian. Then they brought the heads of Oreb and Zeeb to Gideon beyond the Jordan.

Matthew 7

1

“Don’t judge, so that you won’t be judged.

2

For with whatever judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with whatever measure you measure, it will be measured to you.

3

Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but don’t consider the beam that is in your own eye?

4

Or how will you tell your brother, ‘Let me remove the speck from your eye,’ and behold, the beam is in your own eye?

5

You hypocrite! First remove the beam out of your own eye, and then you can see clearly to remove the speck out of your brother’s eye.

6

“Don’t give that which is holy to the dogs, neither throw your pearls before the pigs, lest perhaps they trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces.

7

“Ask, and it will be given you. Seek, and you will find. Knock, and it will be opened for you.

8

For everyone who asks receives. He who seeks finds. To him who knocks it will be opened.

9

Or who is there among you who, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone?

10

Or if he asks for a fish, who will give him a serpent?

11

If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!

12

Therefore, whatever you desire for men to do to you, you shall also do to them; for this is the law and the prophets.

13

“Enter in by the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter in by it.

14

How

narrow is the gate and the way is restricted that leads to life! There are few who find it.

15

“Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravening wolves.

16

By their fruits you will know them. Do you gather grapes from thorns or figs from thistles?

17

Even so, every good tree produces good fruit, but the corrupt tree produces evil fruit.

18

A good tree can’t produce evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree produce good fruit.

19

Every tree that doesn’t grow good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

20

Therefore by their fruits you will know them.

21

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, but he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.

22

Many will tell me in that day, ‘Lord, Lord, didn’t we prophesy in your name, in your name cast out demons, and in your name do many mighty works?’

23

Then I will tell them, ‘I never knew you. Depart from me, you who work iniquity.’

24

“Everyone therefore who hears these words of mine and does them, I will liken him to a wise man who built his house on a rock.

25

The rain came down, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it didn’t fall, for it was founded on the rock.

26

Everyone who hears these words of mine and doesn’t do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand.

27

The rain came down, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it fell—and its fall was great.”

28

When Jesus had finished saying these things, the multitudes were astonished at his teaching,

29

for he taught them with authority, and not like the scribes.

Psalms 77

For the Chief Musician. To Jeduthun. A Psalm by Asaph.

1

My cry goes to God!

Indeed, I cry to God for help,

and for him to listen to me.

2

In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord.

My hand was stretched out in the night, and didn’t get tired.

My soul refused to be comforted.

3

I remember God, and I groan.

I complain, and my spirit is overwhelmed.

Selah.

4

You hold my eyelids open.

I am so troubled that I can’t speak.

5

I have considered the days of old,

the years of ancient times.

6

I remember my song in the night.

I consider in my own heart;

my spirit diligently inquires:

7

“Will the Lord reject us forever?

Will he be favorable no more?

8

Has his loving kindness vanished forever?

Does his promise fail for generations?

9

Has God forgotten to be gracious?

Has he, in anger, withheld his compassion?”

Selah.

10

Then I thought, “I will appeal to this:

the years of the right hand of the Most High.”

11

I will remember Yah’s deeds;

for I will remember your wonders of old.

12

I will also meditate on all your work,

and consider your doings.

13

Your way, God, is in the sanctuary.

What god is great like God?

14

You are the God who does wonders.

You have made your strength known among the peoples.

15

You have redeemed your people with your arm,

the sons of Jacob and Joseph.

Selah.

16

The waters saw you, God.

The waters saw you, and they writhed.

The depths also convulsed.

17

The clouds poured out water.

The skies resounded with thunder.

Your arrows also flashed around.

18

The voice of your thunder was in the whirlwind.

The lightnings lit up the world.

The earth trembled and shook.

19

Your way was through the sea;

your paths through the great waters.

Your footsteps were not known.

20

You led your people like a flock,

by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

Luke 24

1

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they and some others came to the tomb, bringing the spices which they had prepared.

2

They found the stone rolled away from the tomb.

3

They entered in, and didn’t find the Lord Jesus’ body.

4

While they were greatly perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in dazzling clothing.

5

Becoming terrified, they bowed their faces down to the earth.

They said to them, “Why do you seek the living among the dead?

6

He isn’t here, but is risen. Remember what he told you when he was still in Galilee,

7

saying that the Son of Man must be delivered up into the hands of sinful men and be crucified, and the third day rise again?”

8

They remembered his words,

9

returned from the tomb, and told all these things to the eleven and to all the rest.

10

Now they were Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Mary the mother of James. The other women with them told these things to the apostles.

11

These words seemed to them to be nonsense, and they didn’t believe them.

12

But Peter got up and ran to the tomb. Stooping and looking in, he saw the strips of linen lying by themselves, and he departed to his home, wondering what had happened.

13

Behold, two of them were going that very day to a village named Emmaus, which was sixty stadia from Jerusalem.

14

They talked with each other about all of these things which had happened.

15

While they talked and questioned together, Jesus himself came near, and went with them.

16

But their eyes were kept from recognizing him.

17

He said to them,

“What are you talking about as you walk, and are sad?”

18

One of them, named Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who doesn’t know the things which have happened there in these days?”

19

He said to them,

“What things?”

They said to him, “The things concerning Jesus, the Nazarene, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people;

20

and how the chief priests and our rulers delivered him up to be condemned to death, and crucified him.

21

But we were hoping that it was he who would redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things happened.

22

Also, certain women of our company amazed us, having arrived early at the tomb;

23

and when they didn’t find his body, they came saying that they had also seen a vision of angels, who said that he was alive.

24

Some of us went to the tomb, and found it just like the women had said, but they didn’t see him.”

25

He said to them,

“Foolish men, and slow of heart to believe in all that the prophets have spoken!

26

Didn’t the Christ have to suffer these things and to enter into his glory?”

27

Beginning from Moses and from all the prophets, he explained to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.

28

They came near to the village where they were going, and he acted like he would go further.

29

They urged him, saying, “Stay with us, for it is almost evening, and the day is almost over.”

He went in to stay with them.

30

When he had sat down at the table with them, he took the bread and gave thanks. Breaking it, he gave it to them.

31

Their eyes were opened and they recognized him, then he vanished out of their sight.

32

They said to one another, “Weren’t our hearts burning within us, while he spoke to us along the way, and while he opened the Scriptures to us?”

33

They rose up that very hour, returned to Jerusalem, and found the eleven gathered together, and those who were with them,

34

saying, “The Lord is risen indeed, and has appeared to Simon!”

35

They related the things that happened along the way, and how he was recognized by them in the breaking of the bread.

36

As they said these things, Jesus himself stood among them, and said to them,

“Peace be to you.”

37

But they were terrified and filled with fear, and supposed that they had seen a spirit.

38

He said to them,

“Why are you troubled? Why do doubts arise in your hearts?

39

See my hands and my feet, that it is truly me. Touch me and see, for a spirit doesn’t have flesh and bones, as you see that I have.”

40

When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet.

41

While they still didn’t believe for joy, and wondered, he said to them,

“Do you have anything here to eat?”

42

They gave him a piece of a broiled fish and some honeycomb.

43

He took them, and ate in front of them.

44

He said to them,

“This is what I told you, while I was still with you, that all things which are written in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms, concerning me must be fulfilled.”

45

Then he opened their minds, that they might understand the Scriptures.

46

He said to them,

“Thus it is written, and thus it was necessary for the Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead the third day,

47

and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name to all the nations, beginning at Jerusalem.

48

You are witnesses of these things.

49

Behold, I send out the promise of my Father on you. But wait in the city of Jerusalem until you are clothed with power from on high.”

50

He led them out as far as Bethany, and he lifted up his hands, and blessed them.

51

While he blessed them, he withdrew from them, and was carried up into heaven.

52

They worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy,

53

and were continually in the temple, praising and blessing God. Amen.

John 20

1

Now on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene went early, while it was still dark, to the tomb, and saw the stone taken away from the tomb.

2

Therefore she ran and came to Simon Peter and to the other disciple whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken away the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have laid him!”

3

Therefore Peter and the other disciple went out, and they went toward the tomb.

4

They both ran together. The other disciple outran Peter, and came to the tomb first.

5

Stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths lying, yet he didn’t enter in.

6

Then Simon Peter came, following him, and entered into the tomb. He saw the linen cloths lying,

7

and the cloth that had been on his head, not lying with the linen cloths, but rolled up in a place by itself.

8

So then the other disciple who came first to the tomb also entered in, and he saw and believed.

9

For as yet they didn’t know the Scripture, that he must rise from the dead.

10

So the disciples went away again to their own homes.

11

But Mary was standing outside at the tomb weeping. So as she wept, she stooped and looked into the tomb,

12

and she saw two angels in white sitting, one at the head, and one at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain.

13

They asked her, “Woman, why are you weeping?”

She said to them, “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I don’t know where they have laid him.”

14

When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing, and didn’t know that it was Jesus.

15

Jesus said to her,

“Woman, why are you weeping? Who are you looking for?”

She, supposing him to be the gardener, said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”

16

Jesus said to her,

“Mary.”

She turned and said to him, “Rabboni!” which is to say, “Teacher!”

17

Jesus said to her,

“Don’t hold me, for I haven’t yet ascended to my Father; but go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ ”

18

Mary Magdalene came and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and that he had said these things to her.

19

When therefore it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and when the doors were locked where the disciples were assembled, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the middle, and said to them,

“Peace be to you.”

20

When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. The disciples therefore were glad when they saw the Lord.

21

Jesus therefore said to them again,

“Peace be to you. As the Father has sent me, even so I send you.”

22

When he had said this, he breathed on them, and said to them,

“Receive the Holy Spirit!

23

If you forgive anyone’s sins, they have been forgiven them. If you retain anyone’s sins, they have been retained.”

24

But Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymus, wasn’t with them when Jesus came.

25

The other disciples therefore said to him, “We have seen the Lord!”

But he said to them, “Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails, put my finger into the print of the nails, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

26

After eight days again his disciples were inside and Thomas was with them. Jesus came, the doors being locked, and stood in the middle, and said,

“Peace be to you.”

27

Then he said to Thomas,

“Reach here your finger, and see my hands. Reach here your hand, and put it into my side. Don’t be unbelieving, but believing.”

28

Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!”

29

Jesus said to him,

“Because you have seen me,

you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen, and have believed.”

30

Therefore Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book;

31

but these are written, that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name.

Sirach 3

1

Hear me, your father, O my children,

and do what you hear, that you all may be safe.

2

For the Lord honors the father over the children,

and has confirmed the judgment of the mother over her sons.

3

He who honors his father will make atonement for sins.

4

He who gives glory to his mother is as one who lays up treasure.

5

Whoever honors his father will have joy in his own children.

He will be heard in the day of his prayer.

6

He who gives glory to his father will have length of days.

He who listens to the Lord will bring rest to his mother,

7

and will serve under his parents, as to masters.

8

Honor your father in deed and word,

that a blessing may come upon you from him.

9

For the blessing of the father establishes the houses of children,

but the curse of the mother roots out the foundations.

10

Don’t glorify yourself in the dishonor of your father,

for your father’s dishonor is no glory to you.

11

For the glory of a man is from the honor of his father,

and a mother in dishonor is a reproach to her children.

12

My son, help your father in his old age,

and don’t grieve him as long as he lives.

13

If he fails in understanding, have patience with him.

Don’t dishonor him in your full strength.

14

For the kindness to your father will not be forgotten.

Instead of sins it will be added to build you up.

15

In the day of your affliction it will be remembered for you,

as fair weather upon ice,

so your sins will also melt away.

16

He who forsakes his father is as a blasphemer.

He who provokes his mother is cursed by the Lord.

17

My son, go on with your business in humility;

so you will be loved by an acceptable man.

18

The greater you are, humble yourself the more,

and you will find favor before the Lord.

19

20

For the power of the Lord is great,

and he is glorified by those who are lowly.

21

Don’t seek things that are too hard for you,

and don’t search out things that are above your strength.

22

Think about the things that have been commanded you,

for you have no need of the things that are secret.

23

Don’t be overly busy in tasks that are beyond you,

for more things are shown to you than men can understand.

24

For the conceit of many has led them astray.

Evil opinion has caused their judgment to slip.

25

There is no light without eyes.

There is no wisdom without knowledge.

26

A stubborn heart will do badly at the end.

He who loves danger will perish in it.

27

A stubborn heart will be burdened with troubles.

The sinner will heap sin upon sins.

28

The calamity of the proud has no healing,

for a weed of wickedness has taken root in him.

29

The heart of the prudent will understand a proverb.

A wise man desires the ear of a listener.

30

Water will quench a flaming fire;

almsgiving will make atonement for sins.

31

He who repays good turns is mindful of that which comes afterward.

In the time of his falling he will find a support.

Matthew 10

1

He called to himself his twelve disciples, and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal every disease and every sickness.

2

Now the names of the twelve apostles are these. The first, Simon, who is called Peter; Andrew, his brother; James the son of Zebedee; John, his brother;

3

Philip; Bartholomew; Thomas; Matthew the tax collector; James the son of Alphaeus; Lebbaeus, who was also called Thaddaeus;

4

Simon the Zealot; and Judas Iscariot, who also betrayed him.

5

Jesus sent these twelve out and commanded them, saying,

“Don’t go among the Gentiles, and don’t enter into any city of the Samaritans.

6

Rather, go to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.

7

As you go, preach, saying, ‘The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand!’

8

Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers,

and cast out demons. Freely you received, so freely give.

9

Don’t take any gold, silver, or brass in your money belts.

10

Take no bag for your journey, neither two coats, nor sandals, nor staff: for the laborer is worthy of his food.

11

Into whatever city or village you enter, find out who in it is worthy, and stay there until you go on.

12

As you enter into the household, greet it.

13

If the household is worthy, let your peace come on it, but if it isn’t worthy, let your peace return to you.

14

Whoever doesn’t receive you or hear your words, as you go out of that house or that city, shake the dust off your feet.

15

Most certainly I tell you, it will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment than for that city.

16

“Behold, I send you out as sheep among wolves. Therefore be wise as serpents and harmless as doves.

17

But beware of men, for they will deliver you up to councils, and in their synagogues they will scourge you.

18

Yes, and you will be brought before governors and kings for my sake, for a testimony to them and to the nations.

19

But when they deliver you up, don’t be anxious how or what you will say, for it will be given you in that hour what you will say.

20

For it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father who speaks in you.

21

“Brother will deliver up brother to death, and the father his child. Children will rise up against parents and cause them to be put to death.

22

You will be hated by all men for my name’s sake, but he who endures to the end will be saved.

23

But when they persecute you in this city, flee into the next, for most certainly I tell you, you will not have gone through the cities of Israel until the Son of Man has come.

24

“A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his lord.

25

It is enough for the disciple that he be like his teacher, and the servant like his lord. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul,

how much more those of his household!

26

Therefore don’t be afraid of them, for there is nothing covered that will not be revealed, or hidden that will not be known.

27

What I tell you in the darkness, speak in the light; and what you hear whispered in the ear, proclaim on the housetops.

28

Don’t be afraid of those who kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul. Rather, fear him who is able to destroy both soul and body in Gehenna.

29

“Aren’t two sparrows sold for an assarion coin?

Not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will.

30

But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

31

Therefore don’t be afraid. You are of more value than many sparrows.

32

Everyone therefore who confesses me before men, I will also confess him before my Father who is in heaven.

33

But whoever denies me before men, I will also deny him before my Father who is in heaven.

34

“Don’t think that I came to send peace on the earth. I didn’t come to send peace, but a sword.

35

For I came to set a man at odds against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law.

36

A man’s foes will be those of his own household.

37

He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he who loves son or daughter more than me isn’t worthy of me.

38

He who doesn’t take his cross and follow after me isn’t worthy of me.

39

He who seeks his life will lose it; and he who loses his life for my sake will find it.

40

“He who receives you receives me, and he who receives me receives him who sent me.

41

He who receives a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward. He who receives a righteous man in the name of a righteous man will receive a righteous man’s reward.

42

Whoever gives one of these little ones just a cup of cold water to drink in the name of a disciple, most certainly I tell you, he will in no way lose his reward.”

Matthew 26

1

When Jesus had finished all these words, he said to his disciples,

2

“You know that after two days the Passover is coming, and the Son of Man will be delivered up to be crucified.”

3

Then the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders of the people were gathered together in the court of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas.

4

They took counsel together that they might take Jesus by deceit and kill him.

5

But they said, “Not during the feast, lest a riot occur among the people.”

6

Now when Jesus was in Bethany, in the house of Simon the leper,

7

a woman came to him having an alabaster jar of very expensive ointment, and she poured it on his head as he sat at the table.

8

But when his disciples saw this, they were indignant, saying, “Why this waste?

9

For this ointment might have been sold for much and given to the poor.”

10

However, knowing this, Jesus said to them,

“Why do you trouble the woman? She has done a good work for me.

11

For you always have the poor with you, but you don’t always have me.

12

For in pouring this ointment on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial.

13

Most certainly I tell you, wherever this Good News is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be spoken of as a memorial of her.”

14

Then one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests

15

and said, “What are you willing to give me if I deliver him to you?” So they weighed out for him thirty pieces of silver.

16

From that time he sought opportunity to betray him.

17

Now on the first day of unleavened bread, the disciples came to Jesus, saying to him, “Where do you want us to prepare for you to eat the Passover?”

18

He said,

“Go into the city to a certain person, and tell him, ‘The Teacher says, “My time is at hand. I will keep the Passover at your house with my disciples.” ’ ”

19

The disciples did as Jesus commanded them, and they prepared the Passover.

20

Now when evening had come, he was reclining at the table with the twelve disciples.

21

As they were eating, he said,

“Most certainly I tell you that one of you will betray me.”

22

They were exceedingly sorrowful, and each began to ask him, “It isn’t me, is it, Lord?”

23

He answered,

“He who dipped his hand with me in the dish will betray me.

24

The Son of Man goes even as it is written of him, but woe to that man through whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would be better for that man if he had not been born.”

25

Judas, who betrayed him, answered, “It isn’t me, is it, Rabbi?”

He said to him,

“You said it.”

26

As they were eating, Jesus took bread, gave thanks for it, and broke it. He gave to the disciples and said,

“Take, eat; this is my body.”

27

He took the cup, gave thanks, and gave to them, saying,

“All of you drink it,

28

for this is my blood of the new covenant, which is poured out for many for the remission of sins.

29

But I tell you that I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on, until that day when I drink it anew with you in my Father’s Kingdom.”

30

When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.

31

Then Jesus said to them,

“All of you will be made to stumble because of me tonight, for it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.’

32

But after I am raised up, I will go before you into Galilee.”

33

But Peter answered him, “Even if all will be made to stumble because of you, I will never be made to stumble.”

34

Jesus said to him,

“Most certainly I tell you that tonight, before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.”

35

Peter said to him, “Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you.” All of the disciples also said likewise.

36

Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane, and said to his disciples,

“Sit here, while I go there and pray.”

37

He took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be sorrowful and severely troubled.

38

Then he said to them,

“My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death. Stay here and watch with me.”

39

He went forward a little, fell on his face, and prayed, saying,

“My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass away from me; nevertheless, not what I desire, but what you desire.”

40

He came to the disciples and found them sleeping, and said to Peter,

“What, couldn’t you watch with me for one hour?

41

Watch and pray, that you don’t enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

42

Again, a second time he went away and prayed, saying,

“My Father, if this cup can’t pass away from me unless I drink it, your desire be done.”

43

He came again and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy.

44

He left them again, went away, and prayed a third time, saying the same words.

45

Then he came to his disciples and said to them,

“Are you still sleeping and resting? Behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners.

46

Arise, let’s be going. Behold, he who betrays me is at hand.”

47

While he was still speaking, behold, Judas, one of the twelve, came, and with him a great multitude with swords and clubs, from the chief priests and elders of the people.

48

Now he who betrayed him had given them a sign, saying, “Whoever I kiss, he is the one. Seize him.”

49

Immediately he came to Jesus, and said, “Greetings, Rabbi!” and kissed him.

50

Jesus said to him,

“Friend, why are you here?”

Then they came and laid hands on Jesus, and took him.

51

Behold, one of those who were with Jesus stretched out his hand and drew his sword, and struck the servant of the high priest, and cut off his ear.

52

Then Jesus said to him,

“Put your sword back into its place, for all those who take the sword will die by the sword.

53

Or do you think that I couldn’t ask my Father, and he would even now send me more than twelve legions of angels?

54

How then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that it must be so?”

55

In that hour Jesus said to the multitudes,

“Have you come out as against a robber with swords and clubs to seize me? I sat daily in the temple teaching, and you didn’t arrest me.

56

But all this has happened that the Scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled.”

Then all the disciples left him and fled.

57

Those who had taken Jesus led him away to Caiaphas the high priest, where the scribes and the elders were gathered together.

58

But Peter followed him from a distance to the court of the high priest, and entered in and sat with the officers, to see the end.

59

Now the chief priests, the elders, and the whole council sought false testimony against Jesus, that they might put him to death,

60

and they found none. Even though many false witnesses came forward, they found none. But at last two false witnesses came forward

61

and said, “This man said, ‘I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three days.’ ”

62

The high priest stood up and said to him, “Have you no answer? What is this that these testify against you?”

63

But Jesus stayed silent. The high priest answered him, “I adjure you by the living God that you tell us whether you are the Christ, the Son of God.”

64

Jesus said to him,

“You have said so. Nevertheless, I tell you, after this you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of Power, and coming on the clouds of the sky.”

65

Then the high priest tore his clothing, saying, “He has spoken blasphemy! Why do we need any more witnesses? Behold, now you have heard his blasphemy.

66

What do you think?”

They answered, “He is worthy of death!”

67

Then they spat in his face and beat him with their fists, and some slapped him,

68

saying, “Prophesy to us, you Christ! Who hit you?”

69

Now Peter was sitting outside in the court, and a maid came to him, saying, “You were also with Jesus, the Galilean!”

70

But he denied it before them all, saying, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

71

When he had gone out onto the porch, someone else saw him and said to those who were there, “This man also was with Jesus of Nazareth.”

72

Again he denied it with an oath, “I don’t know the man.”

73

After a little while those who stood by came and said to Peter, “Surely you are also one of them, for your speech makes you known.”

74

Then he began to curse and to swear, “I don’t know the man!”

Immediately the rooster crowed.

75

Peter remembered the word which Jesus had said to him,

“Before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.”

Then he went out and wept bitterly.

John 11

1

Now a certain man was sick, Lazarus from Bethany, of the village of Mary and her sister, Martha.

2

It was that Mary who had anointed the Lord with ointment and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother, Lazarus, was sick.

3

The sisters therefore sent to him, saying, “Lord, behold, he for whom you have great affection is sick.”

4

But when Jesus heard it, he said,

“This sickness is not to death, but for the glory of God, that God’s Son may be glorified by it.”

5

Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.

6

When therefore he heard that he was sick, he stayed two days in the place where he was.

7

Then after this he said to the disciples,

“Let’s go into Judea again.”

8

The disciples asked him, “Rabbi, the Jews were just trying to stone you. Are you going there again?”

9

Jesus answered,

“Aren’t there twelve hours of daylight? If a man walks in the day, he doesn’t stumble, because he sees the light of this world.

10

But if a man walks in the night, he stumbles, because the light isn’t in him.”

11

He said these things, and after that, he said to them,

“Our friend, Lazarus, has fallen asleep, but I am going so that I may awake him out of sleep.”

12

The disciples therefore said, “Lord, if he has fallen asleep, he will recover.”

13

Now Jesus had spoken of his death, but they thought that he spoke of taking rest in sleep.

14

So Jesus said to them plainly then,

“Lazarus is dead.

15

I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, so that you may believe. Nevertheless, let’s go to him.”

16

Thomas therefore, who is called Didymus, said to his fellow disciples, “Let’s go also, that we may die with him.”

17

So when Jesus came, he found that he had been in the tomb four days already.

18

Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, about fifteen stadia away.

19

Many of the Jews had joined the women around Martha and Mary, to console them concerning their brother.

20

Then when Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, but Mary stayed in the house.

21

Therefore Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you would have been here, my brother wouldn’t have died.

22

Even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.”

23

Jesus said to her,

“Your brother will rise again.”

24

Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”

25

Jesus said to her,

“I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will still live, even if he dies.

26

Whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

27

She said to him, “Yes, Lord. I have come to believe that you are the Christ, God’s Son, he who comes into the world.”

28

When she had said this, she went away and called Mary, her sister, secretly, saying, “The Teacher is here and is calling you.”

29

When she heard this, she arose quickly and went to him.

30

Now Jesus had not yet come into the village, but was in the place where Martha met him.

31

Then the Jews who were with her in the house and were consoling her, when they saw Mary, that she rose up quickly and went out, followed her, saying, “She is going to the tomb to weep there.”

32

Therefore when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell down at his feet, saying to him, “Lord, if you would have been here, my brother wouldn’t have died.”

33

When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews weeping who came with her, he groaned in the spirit, and was troubled,

34

and said,

“Where have you laid him?”

They told him, “Lord, come and see.”

35

Jesus wept.

36

The Jews therefore said, “See how much affection he had for him!”

37

Some of them said, “Couldn’t this man, who opened the eyes of him who was blind, have also kept this man from dying?”

38

Jesus therefore, again groaning in himself, came to the tomb. Now it was a cave, and a stone lay against it.

39

Jesus said,

“Take away the stone.”

Martha, the sister of him who was dead, said to him, “Lord, by this time there is a stench, for he has been dead four days.”

40

Jesus said to her,

“Didn’t I tell you that if you believed, you would see God’s glory?”

41

So they took away the stone from the place where the dead man was lying. Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said,

“Father, I thank you that you listened to me.

42

I know that you always listen to me, but because of the multitude standing around I said this, that they may believe that you sent me.”

43

When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice,

“Lazarus, come out!”

44

He who was dead came out, bound hand and foot with wrappings, and his face was wrapped around with a cloth.

Jesus said to them,

“Free him, and let him go.”

45

Therefore many of the Jews who came to Mary and saw what Jesus did believed in him.

46

But some of them went away to the Pharisees and told them the things which Jesus had done.

47

The chief priests therefore and the Pharisees gathered a council, and said, “What are we doing? For this man does many signs.

48

If we leave him alone like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation.”

49

But a certain one of them, Caiaphas, being high priest that year, said to them, “You know nothing at all,

50

nor do you consider that it is advantageous for us that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation not perish.”

51

Now he didn’t say this of himself, but being high priest that year, he prophesied that Jesus would die for the nation,

52

and not for the nation only, but that he might also gather together into one the children of God who are scattered abroad.

53

So from that day forward they took counsel that they might put him to death.

54

Jesus therefore walked no more openly among the Jews, but departed from there into the country near the wilderness, to a city called Ephraim. He stayed there with his disciples.

55

Now the Passover of the Jews was at hand. Many went up from the country to Jerusalem before the Passover, to purify themselves.

56

Then they sought for Jesus and spoke with one another as they stood in the temple, “What do you think—that he isn’t coming to the feast at all?”

57

Now the chief priests and the Pharisees had commanded that if anyone knew where he was, he should report it, that they might seize him.

Psalms 111

1

Praise Yah!

I will give thanks to Yahweh with my whole heart,

in the council of the upright, and in the congregation.

2

Yahweh’s works are great,

pondered by all those who delight in them.

3

His work is honor and majesty.

His righteousness endures forever.

4

He has caused his wonderful works to be remembered.

Yahweh is gracious and merciful.

5

He has given food to those who fear him.

He always remembers his covenant.

6

He has shown his people the power of his works,

in giving them the heritage of the nations.

7

The works of his hands are truth and justice.

All his precepts are sure.

8

They are established forever and ever.

They are done in truth and uprightness.

9

He has sent redemption to his people.

He has ordained his covenant forever.

His name is holy and awesome!

10

The fear of Yahweh is the beginning of wisdom.

All those who do his work have a good understanding.

His praise endures forever!

Matthew 19

1

When Jesus had finished these words, he departed from Galilee and came into the borders of Judea beyond the Jordan.

2

Great multitudes followed him, and he healed them there.

3

Pharisees came to him, testing him and saying, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife for any reason?”

4

He answered,

“Haven’t you read that he who made them from the beginning made them male and female,

5

and said, ‘For this cause a man shall leave his father and mother, and shall be joined to his wife; and the two shall become one flesh?’

6

So that they are no more two, but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, don’t let man tear apart.”

7

They asked him, “Why then did Moses command us to give her a certificate of divorce and divorce her?”

8

He said to them,

“Moses, because of the hardness of your hearts, allowed you to divorce your wives, but from the beginning it has not been so.

9

I tell you that whoever divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, and marries another, commits adultery; and he who marries her when she is divorced commits adultery.”

10

His disciples said to him, “If this is the case of the man with his wife, it is not expedient to marry.”

11

But he said to them,

“Not all men can receive this saying, but those to whom it is given.

12

For there are eunuchs who were born that way from their mother’s womb, and there are eunuchs who were made eunuchs by men; and there are eunuchs who made themselves eunuchs for the Kingdom of Heaven’s sake. He who is able to receive it, let him receive it.”

13

Then little children were brought to him that he should lay his hands on them and pray; and the disciples rebuked them.

14

But Jesus said,

“Allow the little children, and don’t forbid them to come to me; for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to ones like these.”

15

He laid his hands on them, and departed from there.

16

Behold, one came to him and said, “Good teacher, what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life?”

17

He said to him,

“Why do you call me good?

No one is good but one, that is, God. But if you want to enter into life, keep the commandments.”

18

He said to him, “Which ones?”

Jesus said,

“ ‘You shall not murder.’ ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ ‘You shall not steal.’ ‘You shall not offer false testimony.’

19

‘Honor your father and your mother.’

And, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ ”

20

The young man said to him, “All these things I have observed from my youth. What do I still lack?”

21

Jesus said to him,

“If you want to be perfect, go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.”

22

But when the young man heard this, he went away sad, for he was one who had great possessions.

23

Jesus said to his disciples,

“Most certainly I say to you, a rich man will enter into the Kingdom of Heaven with difficulty.

24

Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through a needle’s eye than for a rich man to enter into God’s Kingdom.”

25

When the disciples heard it, they were exceedingly astonished, saying, “Who then can be saved?”

26

Looking at them, Jesus said,

“With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

27

Then Peter answered, “Behold, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?”

28

Jesus said to them,

“Most certainly I tell you that you who have followed me, in the regeneration when the Son of Man will sit on the throne of his glory, you also will sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

29

Everyone who has left houses, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name’s sake, will receive one hundred times, and will inherit eternal life.

30

But many will be last who are first, and first who are last.

Mark 10

1

He arose from there and came into the borders of Judea and beyond the Jordan. Multitudes came together to him again. As he usually did, he was again teaching them.

2

Pharisees came to him testing him, and asked him, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”

3

He answered,

“What did Moses command you?”

4

They said, “Moses allowed a certificate of divorce to be written, and to divorce her.”

5

But Jesus said to them,

“For your hardness of heart, he wrote you this commandment.

6

But from the beginning of the creation, God made them male and female.

7

For this cause a man will leave his father and mother, and will join to his wife,

8

and the two will become one flesh,

so that they are no longer two, but one flesh.

9

What therefore God has joined together, let no man separate.”

10

In the house, his disciples asked him again about the same matter.

11

He said to them,

“Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her.

12

If a woman herself divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.”

13

They were bringing to him little children, that he should touch them, but the disciples rebuked those who were bringing them.

14

But when Jesus saw it, he was moved with indignation, and said to them,

“Allow the little children to come to me! Don’t forbid them, for God’s Kingdom belongs to such as these.

15

Most certainly I tell you, whoever will not receive God’s Kingdom like a little child, he will in no way enter into it.”

16

He took them in his arms, and blessed them, laying his hands on them.

17

As he was going out into the way, one ran to him, knelt before him, and asked him, “Good Teacher, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?”

18

Jesus said to him,

“Why do you call me good? No one is good except one—God.

19

You know the commandments: ‘Do not murder,’ ‘Do not commit adultery,’ ‘Do not steal,’ ‘Do not give false testimony,’ ‘Do not defraud,’ ‘Honor your father and mother.’ ”

20

He said to him, “Teacher, I have observed all these things from my youth.”

21

Jesus looking at him loved him, and said to him,

“One thing you lack. Go, sell whatever you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me, taking up the cross.”

22

But his face fell at that saying, and he went away sorrowful, for he was one who had great possessions.

23

Jesus looked around, and said to his disciples,

“How difficult it is for those who have riches to enter into God’s Kingdom!”

24

The disciples were amazed at his words. But Jesus answered again,

“Children, how hard it is for those who trust in riches to enter into God’s Kingdom!

25

It is easier for a camel to go through a needle’s eye than for a rich man to enter into God’s Kingdom.”

26

They were exceedingly astonished, saying to him, “Then who can be saved?”

27

Jesus, looking at them, said,

“With men it is impossible, but not with God, for all things are possible with God.”

28

Peter began to tell him, “Behold, we have left all, and have followed you.”

29

Jesus said,

“Most certainly I tell you, there is no one who has left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or land, for my sake, and for the sake of the Good News,

30

but he will receive one hundred times more now in this time: houses, brothers, sisters, mothers, children, and land, with persecutions; and in the age to come eternal life.

31

But many who are first will be last; and the last first.”

32

They were on the way, going up to Jerusalem; and Jesus was going in front of them, and they were amazed; and those who followed were afraid. He again took the twelve, and began to tell them the things that were going to happen to him.

33

“Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem. The Son of Man will be delivered to the chief priests and the scribes. They will condemn him to death, and will deliver him to the Gentiles.

34

They will mock him, spit on him, scourge him, and kill him. On the third day he will rise again.”

35

James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came near to him, saying, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we will ask.”

36

He said to them,

“What do you want me to do for you?”

37

They said to him, “Grant to us that we may sit, one at your right hand, and one at your left hand, in your glory.”

38

But Jesus said to them,

“You don’t know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, and to be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?”

39

They said to him, “We are able.”

Jesus said to them,

“You shall indeed drink the cup that I drink, and you shall be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with;

40

but to sit at my right hand and at my left hand is not mine to give, but for whom it has been prepared.”

41

When the ten heard it, they began to be indignant toward James and John.

42

Jesus summoned them, and said to them,

“You know that they who are recognized as rulers over the nations lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them.

43

But it shall not be so among you, but whoever wants to become great among you shall be your servant.

44

Whoever of you wants to become first among you, shall be bondservant of all.

45

For the Son of Man also came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

46

They came to Jericho. As he went out from Jericho, with his disciples and a great multitude, the son of Timaeus, Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the road.

47

When he heard that it was Jesus the Nazarene, he began to cry out, and say, “Jesus, you son of David, have mercy on me!”

48

Many rebuked him, that he should be quiet, but he cried out much more, “You son of David, have mercy on me!”

49

Jesus stood still, and said,

“Call him.”

They called the blind man, saying to him, “Cheer up! Get up. He is calling you!”

50

He, casting away his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus.

51

Jesus asked him,

“What do you want me to do for you?”

The blind man said to him, “Rabboni, that I may see again.”

52

Jesus said to him,

“Go your way. Your faith has made you well.”

Immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus on the way.

Matthew 4

1

Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.

2

When he had fasted forty days and forty nights, he was hungry afterward.

3

The tempter came and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command that these stones become bread.”

4

But he answered,

“It is written, ‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds out of God’s mouth.’ ”

5

Then the devil took him into the holy city. He set him on the pinnacle of the temple,

6

and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down, for it is written,

‘He will command his angels concerning you,’ and,

‘On their hands they will bear you up,

so that you don’t dash your foot against a stone.’ ”

7

Jesus said to him,

“Again, it is written, ‘You shall not test the Lord, your God.’ ”

8

Again, the devil took him to an exceedingly high mountain, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory.

9

He said to him, “I will give you all of these things, if you will fall down and worship me.”

10

Then Jesus said to him,

“Get behind me,

Satan! For it is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God, and you shall serve him only.’ ”

11

Then the devil left him, and behold, angels came and served him.

12

Now when Jesus heard that John was delivered up, he withdrew into Galilee.

13

Leaving Nazareth, he came and lived in Capernaum, which is by the sea, in the region of Zebulun and Naphtali,

14

that it might be fulfilled which was spoken through Isaiah the prophet, saying,

15

“The land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali,

toward the sea, beyond the Jordan,

Galilee of the Gentiles,

16

the people who sat in darkness saw a great light;

to those who sat in the region and shadow of death,

to them light has dawned.”

17

From that time, Jesus began to preach, and to say,

“Repent! For the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.”

18

Walking by the sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers: Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew, his brother, casting a net into the sea; for they were fishermen.

19

He said to them,

“Come after me, and I will make you fishers for men.”

20

They immediately left their nets and followed him.

21

Going on from there, he saw two other brothers, James the son of Zebedee, and John his brother, in the boat with Zebedee their father, mending their nets. He called them.

22

They immediately left the boat and their father, and followed him.

23

Jesus went about in all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the Good News of the Kingdom, and healing every disease and every sickness among the people.

24

The report about him went out into all Syria. They brought to him all who were sick, afflicted with various diseases and torments, possessed with demons, epileptics, and paralytics; and he healed them.

25

Great multitudes from Galilee, Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea, and from beyond the Jordan followed him.

Isaiah 30

1

“Woe to the rebellious children”, says Yahweh, “who take counsel, but not from me; and who make an alliance, but not with my Spirit, that they may add sin to sin,

2

who set out to go down into Egypt, and have not asked my advice, to strengthen themselves in the strength of Pharaoh, and to take refuge in the shadow of Egypt!

3

Therefore the strength of Pharaoh will be your shame, and the refuge in the shadow of Egypt your confusion.

4

For their princes are at Zoan, and their ambassadors have come to Hanes.

5

They shall all be ashamed because of a people that can’t profit them, that are not a help nor profit, but a shame, and also a reproach.”

6

The burden of the animals of the South.

Through the land of trouble and anguish, of the lioness and the lion, the viper and fiery flying serpent, they carry their riches on the shoulders of young donkeys, and their treasures on the humps of camels, to an unprofitable people.

7

For Egypt helps in vain, and to no purpose; therefore I have called her Rahab who sits still.

8

Now go, write it before them on a tablet, and inscribe it in a book, that it may be for the time to come forever and ever.

9

For it is a rebellious people, lying children, children who will not hear Yahweh’s law;

10

who tell the seers, “Don’t see!” and the prophets, “Don’t prophesy to us right things. Tell us pleasant things. Prophesy deceits.

11

Get out of the way. Turn away from the path. Cause the Holy One of Israel to cease from before us.”

12

Therefore the Holy One of Israel says, “Because you despise this word, and trust in oppression and perverseness, and rely on it,

13

therefore this iniquity shall be to you like a breach ready to fall, swelling out in a high wall, whose breaking comes suddenly in an instant.

14

He will break it as a potter’s vessel is broken, breaking it in pieces without sparing, so that there won’t be found among the broken pieces a piece good enough to take fire from the hearth, or to dip up water out of the cistern.”

15

For thus said the Lord Yahweh, the Holy One of Israel, “You will be saved in returning and rest. Your strength will be in quietness and in confidence.” You refused,

16

but you said, “No, for we will flee on horses;” therefore you will flee; and, “We will ride on the swift;” therefore those who pursue you will be swift.

17

One thousand will flee at the threat of one. At the threat of five, you will flee until you are left like a beacon on the top of a mountain, and like a banner on a hill.

18

Therefore Yahweh will wait, that he may be gracious to you; and therefore he will be exalted, that he may have mercy on you, for Yahweh is a God of justice. Blessed are all those who wait for him.

19

For the people will dwell in Zion at Jerusalem. You will weep no more. He will surely be gracious to you at the voice of your cry. When he hears you, he will answer you.

20

Though the Lord may give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your teachers won’t be hidden any more, but your eyes will see your teachers;

21

and when you turn to the right hand, and when you turn to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way. Walk in it.”

22

You shall defile the overlaying of your engraved images of silver, and the plating of your molten images of gold. You shall cast them away as an unclean thing. You shall tell it, “Go away!”

23

He will give the rain for your seed, with which you will sow the ground; and bread of the increase of the ground will be rich and plentiful. In that day, your livestock will feed in large pastures.

24

The oxen likewise and the young donkeys that till the ground will eat savory feed, which has been winnowed with the shovel and with the fork.

25

There will be brooks and streams of water on every lofty mountain and on every high hill in the day of the great slaughter, when the towers fall.

26

Moreover the light of the moon will be like the light of the sun, and the light of the sun will be seven times brighter, like the light of seven days, in the day that Yahweh binds up the fracture of his people, and heals the wound they were struck with.

27

Behold, Yahweh’s name comes from far away, burning with his anger, and in thick rising smoke. His lips are full of indignation. His tongue is as a devouring fire.

28

His breath is as an overflowing stream that reaches even to the neck, to sift the nations with the sieve of destruction. A bridle that leads to ruin will be in the jaws of the peoples.

29

You will have a song, as in the night when a holy feast is kept, and gladness of heart, as when one goes with a flute to come to Yahweh’s mountain, to Israel’s Rock.

30

Yahweh will cause his glorious voice to be heard, and will show the descent of his arm, with the indignation of his anger, and the flame of a devouring fire, with a blast, storm, and hailstones.

31

For through Yahweh’s voice the Assyrian will be dismayed. He will strike him with his rod.

32

Every stroke of the rod of punishment, which Yahweh will lay on him, will be with the sound of tambourines and harps. He will fight with them in battles, brandishing weapons.

33

For his burning place has long been ready. Yes, it is prepared for the king. He has made its pyre deep and large with fire and much wood. Yahweh’s breath, like a stream of sulfur, kindles it.

Psalms 118

1

Give thanks to Yahweh, for he is good,

for his loving kindness endures forever.

2

Let Israel now say

that his loving kindness endures forever.

3

Let the house of Aaron now say

that his loving kindness endures forever.

4

Now let those who fear Yahweh say

that his loving kindness endures forever.

5

Out of my distress, I called on Yah.

Yah answered me with freedom.

6

Yahweh is on my side. I will not be afraid.

What can man do to me?

7

Yahweh is on my side among those who help me.

Therefore I will look in triumph at those who hate me.

8

It is better to take refuge in Yahweh,

than to put confidence in man.

9

It is better to take refuge in Yahweh,

than to put confidence in princes.

10

All the nations surrounded me,

but in Yahweh’s name, I cut them off.

11

They surrounded me, yes, they surrounded me.

In Yahweh’s name I indeed cut them off.

12

They surrounded me like bees.

They are quenched like the burning thorns.

In Yahweh’s name I cut them off.

13

You pushed me back hard, to make me fall,

but Yahweh helped me.

14

Yah is my strength and song.

He has become my salvation.

15

The voice of rejoicing and salvation is in the tents of the righteous.

“The right hand of Yahweh does valiantly.

16

The right hand of Yahweh is exalted!

The right hand of Yahweh does valiantly!”

17

I will not die, but live,

and declare Yah’s works.

18

Yah has punished me severely,

but he has not given me over to death.

19

Open to me the gates of righteousness.

I will enter into them.

I will give thanks to Yah.

20

This is the gate of Yahweh;

the righteous will enter into it.

21

I will give thanks to you, for you have answered me,

and have become my salvation.

22

The stone which the builders rejected

has become the cornerstone.

23

This is Yahweh’s doing.

It is marvelous in our eyes.

24

This is the day that Yahweh has made.

We will rejoice and be glad in it!

25

Save us now, we beg you, Yahweh!

Yahweh, we beg you, send prosperity now.

26

Blessed is he who comes in Yahweh’s name!

We have blessed you out of Yahweh’s house.

27

Yahweh is God, and he has given us light.

Bind the sacrifice with cords, even to the horns of the altar.

28

You are my God, and I will give thanks to you.

You are my God, I will exalt you.

29

Oh give thanks to Yahweh, for he is good,

for his loving kindness endures forever.

Song of Solomon 8

1

Oh that you were like my brother,

who nursed from the breasts of my mother!

If I found you outside, I would kiss you;

yes, and no one would despise me.

2

I would lead you, bringing you into the house of my mother,

who would instruct me.

I would have you drink spiced wine,

of the juice of my pomegranate.

3

His left hand would be under my head.

His right hand would embrace me.

4

I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,

that you not stir up, nor awaken love,

until it so desires.

Friends

5

Who is this who comes up from the wilderness,

leaning on her beloved?

Beloved

Under the apple tree I awakened you.

There your mother conceived you.

There she was in labor and bore you.

6

Set me as a seal on your heart,

as a seal on your arm;

for love is strong as death.

Jealousy is as cruel as Sheol.

Its flashes are flashes of fire,

a very flame of Yahweh.

7

Many waters can’t quench love,

neither can floods drown it.

If a man would give all the wealth of his house for love,

he would be utterly scorned.

Brothers

8

We have a little sister.

She has no breasts.

What shall we do for our sister

in the day when she is to be spoken for?

9

If she is a wall,

we will build on her a turret of silver.

If she is a door,

we will enclose her with boards of cedar.

Beloved

10

I am a wall, and my breasts like towers,

then I was in his eyes like one who found peace.

11

Solomon had a vineyard at Baal Hamon.

He leased out the vineyard to keepers.

Each was to bring a thousand shekels of silver for its fruit.

12

My own vineyard is before me.

The thousand are for you, Solomon,

two hundred for those who tend its fruit.

Lover

13

You who dwell in the gardens, with friends in attendance,

let me hear your voice!

Beloved

14

Come away, my beloved!

Be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices!

Song of Solomon 1

1

The Song of songs, which is Solomon’s.

Beloved

2

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth;

for your love is better than wine.

3

Your oils have a pleasing fragrance.

Your name is oil poured out,

therefore the virgins love you.

4

Take me away with you.

Let’s hurry.

The king has brought me into his rooms.

Friends

We will be glad and rejoice in you.

We will praise your love more than wine!

Beloved

They are right to love you.

5

I am dark, but lovely,

you daughters of Jerusalem,

like Kedar’s tents,

like Solomon’s curtains.

6

Don’t stare at me because I am dark,

because the sun has scorched me.

My mother’s sons were angry with me.

They made me keeper of the vineyards.

I haven’t kept my own vineyard.

7

Tell me, you whom my soul loves,

where you graze your flock,

where you rest them at noon;

for why should I be as one who is veiled

beside the flocks of your companions?

Lover

8

If you don’t know, most beautiful among women,

follow the tracks of the sheep.

Graze your young goats beside the shepherds’ tents.

9

I have compared you, my love,

to a steed in Pharaoh’s chariots.

10

Your cheeks are beautiful with earrings,

your neck with strings of jewels.

Friends

11

We will make you earrings of gold,

with studs of silver.

Beloved

12

While the king sat at his table,

my perfume spread its fragrance.

13

My beloved is to me a sachet of myrrh,

that lies between my breasts.

14

My beloved is to me a cluster of henna blossoms

from the vineyards of En Gedi.

Lover

15

Behold, you are beautiful, my love.

Behold, you are beautiful.

Your eyes are like doves.

Beloved

16

Behold, you are beautiful, my beloved, yes, pleasant;

and our couch is verdant.

Lover

17

The beams of our house are cedars.

Our rafters are firs.

Colossians 3

1

If then you were raised together with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated on the right hand of God.

2

Set your mind on the things that are above, not on the things that are on the earth.

3

For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.

4

When Christ, our life, is revealed, then you will also be revealed with him in glory.

5

Put to death therefore your members which are on the earth: sexual immorality, uncleanness, depraved passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry.

6

For these things’ sake the wrath of God comes on the children of disobedience.

7

You also once walked in those, when you lived in them;

8

but now you also put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and shameful speaking out of your mouth.

9

Don’t lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old man with his doings,

10

and have put on the new man, who is being renewed in knowledge after the image of his Creator,

11

where there can’t be Greek and Jew, circumcision and uncircumcision, barbarian, Scythian, bondservant, or free person; but Christ is all, and in all.

12

Put on therefore, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, a heart of compassion, kindness, lowliness, humility, and perseverance;

13

bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, if any man has a complaint against any; even as Christ forgave you, so you also do.

14

Above all these things, walk in love, which is the bond of perfection.

15

And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which also you were called in one body, and be thankful.

16

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; in all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another with psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your heart to the Lord.

17

Whatever you do, in word or in deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father, through him.

18

Wives, be in subjection to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord.

19

Husbands, love your wives, and don’t be bitter against them.

20

Children, obey your parents in all things, for this pleases the Lord.

21

Fathers, don’t provoke your children, so that they won’t be discouraged.

22

Servants, obey in all things those who are your masters according to the flesh, not just when they are looking, as men pleasers, but in singleness of heart, fearing God.

23

And whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord, and not for men,

24

knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance; for you serve the Lord Christ.

25

But he who does wrong will receive again for the wrong that he has done, and there is no partiality.

Galatians 2

1

Then after a period of fourteen years I went up again to Jerusalem with Barnabas, taking Titus also with me.

2

I went up by revelation, and I laid before them the Good News which I preach among the Gentiles, but privately before those who were respected, for fear that I might be running, or had run, in vain.

3

But not even Titus, who was with me, being a Greek, was compelled to be circumcised.

4

This was because of the false brothers secretly brought in, who stole in to spy out our liberty which we have in Christ Jesus, that they might bring us into bondage,

5

to whom we gave no place in the way of subjection, not for an hour, that the truth of the Good News might continue with you.

6

But from those who were reputed to be important—whatever they were, it makes no difference to me; God doesn’t show partiality to man—they, I say, who were respected imparted nothing to me,

7

but to the contrary, when they saw that I had been entrusted with the Good News for the uncircumcised, even as Peter with the Good News for the circumcised—

8

for he who worked through Peter in the apostleship with the circumcised also worked through me with the Gentiles—

9

and when they perceived the grace that was given to me, James and Cephas and John, those who were reputed to be pillars, gave to Barnabas and me the right hand of fellowship, that we should go to the Gentiles, and they to the circumcision.

10

They only asked us to remember the poor—which very thing I was also zealous to do.

11

But when Peter came to Antioch, I resisted him to his face, because he stood condemned.

12

For before some people came from James, he ate with the Gentiles. But when they came, he drew back and separated himself, fearing those who were of the circumcision.

13

And the rest of the Jews joined him in his hypocrisy, so that even Barnabas was carried away with their hypocrisy.

14

But when I saw that they didn’t walk uprightly according to the truth of the Good News, I said to Peter before them all, “If you, being a Jew, live as the Gentiles do, and not as the Jews do, why do you compel the Gentiles to live as the Jews do?

15

“We, being Jews by nature, and not Gentile sinners,

16

yet knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ, even we believed in Christ Jesus, that we might be justified by faith in Christ, and not by the works of the law, because no flesh will be justified by the works of the law.

17

But if while we sought to be justified in Christ, we ourselves also were found sinners, is Christ a servant of sin? Certainly not!

18

For if I build up again those things which I destroyed, I prove myself a law-breaker.

19

For I, through the law, died to the law, that I might live to God.

20

I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. That life which I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself up for me.

21

I don’t reject the grace of God. For if righteousness is through the law, then Christ died for nothing!”

Luke 22

1

Now the feast of unleavened bread, which is called the Passover, was approaching.

2

The chief priests and the scribes sought how they might put him to death, for they feared the people.

3

Satan entered into Judas, who was also called Iscariot, who was counted with the twelve.

4

He went away, and talked with the chief priests and captains about how he might deliver him to them.

5

They were glad, and agreed to give him money.

6

He consented, and sought an opportunity to deliver him to them in the absence of the multitude.

7

The day of unleavened bread came, on which the Passover must be sacrificed.

8

Jesus sent Peter and John, saying,

“Go and prepare the Passover for us, that we may eat.”

9

They said to him, “Where do you want us to prepare?”

10

He said to them,

“Behold, when you have entered into the city, a man carrying a pitcher of water will meet you. Follow him into the house which he enters.

11

Tell the master of the house, ‘The Teacher says to you, “Where is the guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?” ’

12

He will show you a large, furnished upper room. Make preparations there.”

13

They went, found things as Jesus had told them, and they prepared the Passover.

14

When the hour had come, he sat down with the twelve apostles.

15

He said to them,

“I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer,

16

for I tell you, I will no longer by any means eat of it until it is fulfilled in God’s Kingdom.”

17

He received a cup, and when he had given thanks, he said,

“Take this, and share it among yourselves,

18

for I tell you, I will not drink at all again from the fruit of the vine, until God’s Kingdom comes.”

19

He took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke and gave it to them, saying,

“This is my body which is given for you. Do this in memory of me.”

20

Likewise, he took the cup after supper, saying,

“This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.

21

But behold, the hand of him who betrays me is with me on the table.

22

The Son of Man indeed goes, as it has been determined, but woe to that man through whom he is betrayed!”

23

They began to question among themselves which of them it was who would do this thing.

24

A dispute also arose among them, which of them was considered to be greatest.

25

He said to them,

“The kings of the nations lord it over them, and those who have authority over them are called ‘benefactors.’

26

But not so with you. But one who is the greater among you, let him become as the younger, and one who is governing, as one who serves.

27

For who is greater, one who sits at the table, or one who serves? Isn’t it he who sits at the table? But I am among you as one who serves.

28

But you are those who have continued with me in my trials.

29

I confer on you a kingdom, even as my Father conferred on me,

30

that you may eat and drink at my table in my Kingdom. You will sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.”

31

The Lord said,

“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan asked to have all of you, that he might sift you as wheat,

32

but I prayed for you, that your faith wouldn’t fail. You, when once you have turned again, establish your brothers.”

33

He said to him, “Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death!”

34

He said,

“I tell you, Peter, the rooster will by no means crow today until you deny that you know me three times.”

35

He said to them,

“When I sent you out without purse, wallet, and sandals, did you lack anything?”

They said, “Nothing.”

36

Then he said to them,

“But now, whoever has a purse, let him take it, and likewise a wallet. Whoever has none, let him sell his cloak, and buy a sword.

37

For I tell you that this which is written must still be fulfilled in me: ‘He was counted with transgressors.’

For that which concerns me has an end.”

38

They said, “Lord, behold, here are two swords.”

He said to them,

“That is enough.”

39

He came out and went, as his custom was, to the Mount of Olives. His disciples also followed him.

40

When he was at the place, he said to them,

“Pray that you don’t enter into temptation.”

41

He was withdrawn from them about a stone’s throw, and he knelt down and prayed,

42

saying,

“Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.”

43

An angel from heaven appeared to him, strengthening him.

44

Being in agony he prayed more earnestly. His sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground.

45

When he rose up from his prayer, he came to the disciples, and found them sleeping because of grief,

46

and said to them,

“Why do you sleep? Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation.”

47

While he was still speaking, a crowd appeared. He who was called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them. He came near to Jesus to kiss him.

48

But Jesus said to him,

“Judas, do you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?”

49

When those who were around him saw what was about to happen, they said to him, “Lord, shall we strike with the sword?”

50

A certain one of them struck the servant of the high priest, and cut off his right ear.

51

But Jesus answered,

“Let me at least do this”

—and he touched his ear, and healed him.

52

Jesus said to the chief priests, captains of the temple, and elders, who had come against him,

“Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs?

53

When I was with you in the temple daily, you didn’t stretch out your hands against me. But this is your hour, and the power of darkness.”

54

They seized him, and led him away, and brought him into the high priest’s house. But Peter followed from a distance.

55

When they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard, and had sat down together, Peter sat among them.

56

A certain servant girl saw him as he sat in the light, and looking intently at him, said, “This man also was with him.”

57

He denied Jesus, saying, “Woman, I don’t know him.”

58

After a little while someone else saw him, and said, “You also are one of them!”

But Peter answered, “Man, I am not!”

59

After about one hour passed, another confidently affirmed, saying, “Truly this man also was with him, for he is a Galilean!”

60

But Peter said, “Man, I don’t know what you are talking about!” Immediately, while he was still speaking, a rooster crowed.

61

The Lord turned and looked at Peter. Then Peter remembered the Lord’s word, how he said to him,

“Before the rooster crows you will deny me three times.”

62

He went out, and wept bitterly.

63

The men who held Jesus mocked him and beat him.

64

Having blindfolded him, they struck him on the face and asked him, “Prophesy! Who is the one who struck you?”

65

They spoke many other things against him, insulting him.

66

As soon as it was day, the assembly of the elders of the people were gathered together, both chief priests and scribes, and they led him away into their council, saying,

67

“If you are the Christ, tell us.”

But he said to them,

“If I tell you, you won’t believe,

68

and if I ask, you will in no way answer me or let me go.

69

From now on, the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of the power of God.”

70

They all said, “Are you then the Son of God?”

He said to them,

“You say it, because I am.”

71

They said, “Why do we need any more witness? For we ourselves have heard from his own mouth!”

John 17

1

Jesus said these things, then lifting up his eyes to heaven, he said,

“Father, the time has come. Glorify your Son, that your Son may also glorify you;

2

even as you gave him authority over all flesh, so he will give eternal life to all whom you have given him.

3

This is eternal life, that they should know you, the only true God, and him whom you sent, Jesus Christ.

4

I glorified you on the earth. I have accomplished the work which you have given me to do.

5

Now, Father, glorify me with your own self with the glory which I had with you before the world existed.

6

I revealed your name to the people whom you have given me out of the world. They were yours, and you have given them to me. They have kept your word.

7

Now they have known that all things whatever you have given me are from you,

8

for the words which you have given me I have given to them, and they received them, and knew for sure that I came from you. They have believed that you sent me.

9

I pray for them. I don’t pray for the world, but for those whom you have given me, for they are yours.

10

All things that are mine are yours, and yours are mine, and I am glorified in them.

11

I am no more in the world, but these are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, keep them through your name which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are.

12

While I was with them in the world, I kept them in your name. I have kept those whom you have given me. None of them is lost except the son of destruction, that the Scripture might be fulfilled.

13

But now I come to you, and I say these things in the world, that they may have my joy made full in themselves.

14

I have given them your word. The world hated them, because they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world.

15

I pray not that you would take them from the world, but that you would keep them from the evil one.

16

They are not of the world even as I am not of the world.

17

Sanctify them in your truth. Your word is truth.

18

As you sent me into the world, even so I have sent them into the world.

19

For their sakes I sanctify myself, that they themselves also may be sanctified in truth.

20

Not for these only do I pray, but for those also who will believe in me through their word,

21

that they may all be one; even as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be one in us; that the world may believe that you sent me.

22

The glory which you have given me, I have given to them; that they may be one, even as we are one;

23

I in them, and you in me, that they may be perfected into one; that the world may know that you sent me and loved them, even as you loved me.

24

Father, I desire that they also whom you have given me be with me where I am, that they may see my glory, which you have given me, for you loved me before the foundation of the world.

25

Righteous Father, the world hasn’t known you, but I knew you; and these knew that you sent me.

26

I made known to them your name, and will make it known; that the love with which you loved me may be in them, and I in them.”

John 4

1

Therefore when the Lord knew that the Pharisees had heard that Jesus was making and baptizing more disciples than John

2

(although Jesus himself didn’t baptize, but his disciples),

3

he left Judea and departed into Galilee.

4

He needed to pass through Samaria.

5

So he came to a city of Samaria, called Sychar, near the parcel of ground that Jacob gave to his son, Joseph.

6

Jacob’s well was there. Jesus therefore, being tired from his journey, sat down by the well. It was about the sixth hour.

7

A woman of Samaria came to draw water. Jesus said to her,

“Give me a drink.”

8

For his disciples had gone away into the city to buy food.

9

The Samaritan woman therefore said to him, “How is it that you, being a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a Samaritan woman?” (For Jews have no dealings with Samaritans.)

10

Jesus answered her,

“If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”

11

The woman said to him, “Sir, you have nothing to draw with, and the well is deep. So where do you get that living water?

12

Are you greater than our father, Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did his children and his livestock?”

13

Jesus answered her,

“Everyone who drinks of this water will thirst again,

14

but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never thirst again; but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life.”

15

The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I don’t get thirsty, neither come all the way here to draw.”

16

Jesus said to her,

“Go, call your husband, and come here.”

17

The woman answered, “I have no husband.”

Jesus said to her,

“You said well, ‘I have no husband,’

18

for you have had five husbands; and he whom you now have is not your husband. This you have said truly.”

19

The woman said to him, “Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet.

20

Our fathers worshiped in this mountain, and you Jews say that in Jerusalem is the place where people ought to worship.”

21

Jesus said to her,

“Woman, believe me, the hour comes, when neither in this mountain, nor in Jerusalem, will you worship the Father.

22

You worship that which you don’t know. We worship that which we know; for salvation is from the Jews.

23

But the hour comes, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such to be his worshipers.

24

God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.”

25

The woman said to him, “I know that Messiah comes, he who is called Christ. When he has come, he will declare to us all things.”

26

Jesus said to her,

“I am he, the one who speaks to you.”

27

At this, his disciples came. They marveled that he was speaking with a woman; yet no one said, “What are you looking for?” or, “Why do you speak with her?”

28

So the woman left her water pot, went away into the city, and said to the people,

29

“Come, see a man who told me everything that I did. Can this be the Christ?”

30

They went out of the city, and were coming to him.

31

In the meanwhile, the disciples urged him, saying, “Rabbi, eat.”

32

But he said to them,

“I have food to eat that you don’t know about.”

33

The disciples therefore said to one another, “Has anyone brought him something to eat?”

34

Jesus said to them,

“My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work.

35

Don’t you say, ‘There are yet four months until the harvest?’ Behold, I tell you, lift up your eyes and look at the fields, that they are white for harvest already.

36

He who reaps receives wages and gathers fruit to eternal life; that both he who sows and he who reaps may rejoice together.

37

For in this the saying is true, ‘One sows, and another reaps.’

38

I sent you to reap that for which you haven’t labored. Others have labored, and you have entered into their labor.”

39

From that city many of the Samaritans believed in him because of the word of the woman, who testified, “He told me everything that I did.”

40

So when the Samaritans came to him, they begged him to stay with them. He stayed there two days.

41

Many more believed because of his word.

42

They said to the woman, “Now we believe, not because of your speaking; for we have heard for ourselves, and know that this is indeed the Christ, the Savior of the world.”

43

After the two days he went out from there and went into Galilee.

44

For Jesus himself testified that a prophet has no honor in his own country.

45

So when he came into Galilee, the Galileans received him, having seen all the things that he did in Jerusalem at the feast, for they also went to the feast.

46

Jesus came therefore again to Cana of Galilee, where he made the water into wine. There was a certain nobleman whose son was sick at Capernaum.

47

When he heard that Jesus had come out of Judea into Galilee, he went to him, and begged him that he would come down and heal his son, for he was at the point of death.

48

Jesus therefore said to him,

“Unless you see signs and wonders, you will in no way believe.”

49

The nobleman said to him, “Sir, come down before my child dies.”

50

Jesus said to him,

“Go your way. Your son lives.”

The man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him, and he went his way.

51

As he was going down, his servants met him and reported, saying “Your child lives!”

52

So he inquired of them the hour when he began to get better. They said therefore to him, “Yesterday at the seventh hour, the fever left him.”

53

So the father knew that it was at that hour in which Jesus said to him,

“Your son lives.”

He believed, as did his whole house.

54

This is again the second sign that Jesus did, having come out of Judea into Galilee.

2 Corinthians 12

1

It is doubtless not profitable for me to boast. For I will come to visions and revelations of the Lord.

2

I know a man in Christ who was caught up into the third heaven fourteen years ago—whether in the body, I don’t know, or whether out of the body, I don’t know; God knows.

3

I know such a man (whether in the body, or outside of the body, I don’t know; God knows),

4

how he was caught up into Paradise, and heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter.

5

On behalf of such a one I will boast, but on my own behalf I will not boast, except in my weaknesses.

6

For if I would desire to boast, I will not be foolish; for I will speak the truth. But I refrain, so that no man may think more of me than that which he sees in me or hears from me.

7

By reason of the exceeding greatness of the revelations, that I should not be exalted excessively, a thorn in the flesh was given to me: a messenger of Satan to torment me, that I should not be exalted excessively.

8

Concerning this thing, I begged the Lord three times that it might depart from me.

9

He has said to me,

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Most gladly therefore I will rather glory in my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may rest on me.

10

Therefore I take pleasure in weaknesses, in injuries, in necessities, in persecutions, and in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then am I strong.

11

I have become foolish in boasting. You compelled me, for I ought to have been commended by you, for I am in no way inferior to the very best apostles, though I am nothing.

12

Truly the signs of an apostle were worked among you in all perseverance, in signs and wonders and mighty works.

13

For what is there in which you were made inferior to the rest of the assemblies, unless it is that I myself was not a burden to you? Forgive me this wrong.

14

Behold, this is the third time I am ready to come to you, and I will not be a burden to you; for I seek not your possessions, but you. For the children ought not to save up for the parents, but the parents for the children.

15

I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls. If I love you more abundantly, am I loved the less?

16

Even so, I myself didn’t burden you. “But, being crafty, I caught you with deception.”

17

Did I take advantage of you by anyone of those whom I have sent to you?

18

I exhorted Titus, and I sent the brother with him. Did Titus take any advantage of you? Didn’t we walk in the same spirit? Didn’t we walk in the same steps?

19

Again, do you think that we are excusing ourselves to you? In the sight of God we speak in Christ. But all things, beloved, are for your edifying.

20

For I am afraid that by any means, when I come, I might find you not the way I want to, and that I might be found by you as you don’t desire, that by any means there would be strife, jealousy, outbursts of anger, factions, slander, whisperings, proud thoughts, or riots,

21

that again when I come my God would humble me before you, and I would mourn for many of those who have sinned before now, and not repented of the uncleanness, sexual immorality, and lustfulness which they committed.

Psalms 148

1

Praise Yah!

Praise Yahweh from the heavens!

Praise him in the heights!

2

Praise him, all his angels!

Praise him, all his army!

3

Praise him, sun and moon!

Praise him, all you shining stars!

4

Praise him, you heavens of heavens,

you waters that are above the heavens.

5

Let them praise Yahweh’s name,

for he commanded, and they were created.

6

He has also established them forever and ever.

He has made a decree which will not pass away.

7

Praise Yahweh from the earth,

you great sea creatures, and all depths;

8

lightning and hail, snow and clouds;

stormy wind, fulfilling his word;

9

mountains and all hills;

fruit trees and all cedars;

10

wild animals and all livestock;

small creatures and flying birds;

11

kings of the earth and all peoples;

princes and all judges of the earth;

12

both young men and maidens;

old men and children:

13

let them praise Yahweh’s name,

for his name alone is exalted.

His glory is above the earth and the heavens.

14

He has lifted up the horn of his people,

the praise of all his saints,

even of the children of Israel, a people near to him.

Praise Yah!

Genesis 28

1

Isaac called Jacob, blessed him, and commanded him, “You shall not take a wife of the daughters of Canaan.

2

Arise, go to Paddan Aram, to the house of Bethuel your mother’s father. Take a wife from there from the daughters of Laban, your mother’s brother.

3

May God Almighty bless you, and make you fruitful, and multiply you, that you may be a company of peoples,

4

and give you the blessing of Abraham, to you and to your offspring with you, that you may inherit the land where you travel, which God gave to Abraham.”

5

Isaac sent Jacob away. He went to Paddan Aram to Laban, son of Bethuel the Syrian, the brother of Rebekah, Jacob’s and Esau’s mother.

6

Now Esau saw that Isaac had blessed Jacob and sent him away to Paddan Aram, to take him a wife from there, and that as he blessed him he gave him a command, saying, “You shall not take a wife of the daughters of Canaan;”

7

and that Jacob obeyed his father and his mother, and was gone to Paddan Aram.

8

Esau saw that the daughters of Canaan didn’t please Isaac, his father.

9

So Esau went to Ishmael, and took, in addition to the wives that he had, Mahalath the daughter of Ishmael, Abraham’s son, the sister of Nebaioth, to be his wife.

10

Jacob went out from Beersheba, and went toward Haran.

11

He came to a certain place, and stayed there all night, because the sun had set. He took one of the stones of the place, and put it under his head, and lay down in that place to sleep.

12

He dreamed and saw a stairway set upon the earth, and its top reached to heaven. Behold, the angels of God were ascending and descending on it.

13

Behold, Yahweh stood above it, and said, “I am Yahweh, the God of Abraham your father, and the God of Isaac. I will give the land you lie on to you and to your offspring.

14

Your offspring will be as the dust of the earth, and you will spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to the south. In you and in your offspring, all the families of the earth will be blessed.

15

Behold, I am with you, and will keep you, wherever you go, and will bring you again into this land. For I will not leave you until I have done that which I have spoken of to you.”

16

Jacob awakened out of his sleep, and he said, “Surely Yahweh is in this place, and I didn’t know it.”

17

He was afraid, and said, “How awesome this place is! This is none other than God’s house, and this is the gate of heaven.”

18

Jacob rose up early in the morning, and took the stone that he had put under his head, and set it up for a pillar, and poured oil on its top.

19

He called the name of that place Bethel, but the name of the city was Luz at the first.

20

Jacob vowed a vow, saying, “If God will be with me, and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat, and clothing to put on,

21

so that I come again to my father’s house in peace, and Yahweh will be my God,

22

then this stone, which I have set up for a pillar, will be God’s house. Of all that you will give me I will surely give a tenth to you.”

Exodus 2

1

A man of the house of Levi went and took a daughter of Levi as his wife.

2

The woman conceived and bore a son. When she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him three months.

3

When she could no longer hide him, she took a papyrus basket for him, and coated it with tar and with pitch. She put the child in it, and laid it in the reeds by the river’s bank.

4

His sister stood far off, to see what would be done to him.

5

Pharaoh’s daughter came down to bathe at the river. Her maidens walked along by the riverside. She saw the basket among the reeds, and sent her servant to get it.

6

She opened it, and saw the child, and behold, the baby cried. She had compassion on him, and said, “This is one of the Hebrews’ children.”

7

Then his sister said to Pharaoh’s daughter, “Should I go and call a nurse for you from the Hebrew women, that she may nurse the child for you?”

8

Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Go.”

The young woman went and called the child’s mother.

9

Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this child away, and nurse him for me, and I will give you your wages.”

The woman took the child, and nursed it.

10

The child grew, and she brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter, and he became her son. She named him Moses, and said, “Because I drew him out of the water.”

11

In those days, when Moses had grown up, he went out to his brothers and saw their burdens. He saw an Egyptian striking a Hebrew, one of his brothers.

12

He looked this way and that way, and when he saw that there was no one, he killed the Egyptian, and hid him in the sand.

13

He went out the second day, and behold, two men of the Hebrews were fighting with each other. He said to him who did the wrong, “Why do you strike your fellow?”

14

He said, “Who made you a prince and a judge over us? Do you plan to kill me, as you killed the Egyptian?”

Moses was afraid, and said, “Surely this thing is known.”

15

Now when Pharaoh heard this thing, he sought to kill Moses. But Moses fled from the face of Pharaoh, and lived in the land of Midian, and he sat down by a well.

16

Now the priest of Midian had seven daughters. They came and drew water, and filled the troughs to water their father’s flock.

17

The shepherds came and drove them away; but Moses stood up and helped them, and watered their flock.

18

When they came to Reuel, their father, he said, “How is it that you have returned so early today?”

19

They said, “An Egyptian delivered us out of the hand of the shepherds, and moreover he drew water for us, and watered the flock.”

20

He said to his daughters, “Where is he? Why is it that you have left the man? Call him, that he may eat bread.”

21

Moses was content to dwell with the man. He gave Moses Zipporah, his daughter.

22

She bore a son, and he named him Gershom, for he said, “I have lived as a foreigner in a foreign land.”

23

In the course of those many days, the king of Egypt died, and the children of Israel sighed because of the bondage, and they cried, and their cry came up to God because of the bondage.

24

God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob.

25

God saw the children of Israel, and God understood.

Song of Solomon 3

1

By night on my bed,

I sought him whom my soul loves.

I sought him, but I didn’t find him.

2

I will get up now, and go about the city;

in the streets and in the squares I will seek him whom my soul loves.

I sought him, but I didn’t find him.

3

The watchmen who go about the city found me;

“Have you seen him whom my soul loves?”

4

I had scarcely passed from them,

when I found him whom my soul loves.

I held him, and would not let him go,

until I had brought him into my mother’s house,

into the room of her who conceived me.

5

I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,

by the roes, or by the hinds of the field,

that you not stir up nor awaken love,

until it so desires.

6

Who is this who comes up from the wilderness like pillars of smoke,

perfumed with myrrh and frankincense,

with all spices of the merchant?

7

Behold, it is Solomon’s carriage!

Sixty mighty men are around it,

of the mighty men of Israel.

8

They all handle the sword, and are expert in war.

Every man has his sword on his thigh,

because of fear in the night.

9

King Solomon made himself a carriage

of the wood of Lebanon.

10

He made its pillars of silver,

its bottom of gold, its seat of purple,

the middle of it being paved with love,

from the daughters of Jerusalem.

11

Go out, you daughters of Zion, and see king Solomon,

with the crown with which his mother has crowned him,

in the day of his weddings,

in the day of the gladness of his heart.

Luke 12

1

Meanwhile, when a multitude of many thousands had gathered together, so much so that they trampled on each other, he began to tell his disciples first of all,

“Beware of the yeast of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy.

2

But there is nothing covered up that will not be revealed, nor hidden that will not be known.

3

Therefore whatever you have said in the darkness will be heard in the light. What you have spoken in the ear in the inner rooms will be proclaimed on the housetops.

4

“I tell you, my friends, don’t be afraid of those who kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do.

5

But I will warn you whom you should fear. Fear him who after he has killed, has power to cast into Gehenna.

Yes, I tell you, fear him.

6

“Aren’t five sparrows sold for two assaria coins

? Not one of them is forgotten by God.

7

But the very hairs of your head are all counted. Therefore don’t be afraid. You are of more value than many sparrows.

8

“I tell you, everyone who confesses me before men, the Son of Man will also confess before the angels of God;

9

but he who denies me in the presence of men will be denied in the presence of God’s angels.

10

Everyone who speaks a word against the Son of Man will be forgiven, but those who blaspheme against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven.

11

When they bring you before the synagogues, the rulers, and the authorities, don’t be anxious how or what you will answer, or what you will say;

12

for the Holy Spirit will teach you in that same hour what you must say.”

13

One of the multitude said to him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.”

14

But he said to him,

“Man, who made me a judge or an arbitrator over you?”

15

He said to them,

“Beware! Keep yourselves from covetousness, for a man’s life doesn’t consist of the abundance of the things which he possesses.”

16

He spoke a parable to them, saying,

“The ground of a certain rich man produced abundantly.

17

He reasoned within himself, saying, ‘What will I do, because I don’t have room to store my crops?’

18

He said, ‘This is what I will do. I will pull down my barns, build bigger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods.

19

I will tell my soul, “Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years. Take your ease, eat, drink, and be merry.” ’

20

“But God said to him, ‘You foolish one, tonight your soul is required of you. The things which you have prepared—whose will they be?’

21

So is he who lays up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God.”

22

He said to his disciples,

“Therefore I tell you, don’t be anxious for your life, what you will eat, nor yet for your body, what you will wear.

23

Life is more than food, and the body is more than clothing.

24

Consider the ravens: they don’t sow, they don’t reap, they have no warehouse or barn, and God feeds them. How much more valuable are you than birds!

25

Which of you by being anxious can add a cubit

to his height?

26

If then you aren’t able to do even the least things, why are you anxious about the rest?

27

Consider the lilies, how they grow. They don’t toil, neither do they spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

28

But if this is how God clothes the grass in the field, which today exists, and tomorrow is cast into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith?

29

Don’t seek what you will eat or what you will drink; neither be anxious.

30

For the nations of the world seek after all of these things, but your Father knows that you need these things.

31

But seek God’s Kingdom, and all these things will be added to you.

32

Don’t be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the Kingdom.

33

Sell what you have and give gifts to the needy. Make for yourselves purses which don’t grow old, a treasure in the heavens that doesn’t fail, where no thief approaches, neither moth destroys.

34

For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

35

“Let your waist be dressed and your lamps burning.

36

Be like men watching for their lord, when he returns from the wedding feast; that when he comes and knocks, they may immediately open to him.

37

Blessed are those servants whom the lord will find watching when he comes. Most certainly I tell you that he will dress himself, make them recline, and will come and serve them.

38

They will be blessed if he comes in the second or third watch, and finds them so.

39

But know this, that if the master of the house had known in what hour the thief was coming, he would have watched, and not allowed his house to be broken into.

40

Therefore be ready also, for the Son of Man is coming in an hour that you don’t expect him.”

41

Peter said to him, “Lord, are you telling this parable to us, or to everybody?”

42

The Lord said,

“Who then is the faithful and wise steward, whom his lord will set over his household, to give them their portion of food at the right times?

43

Blessed is that servant whom his lord will find doing so when he comes.

44

Truly I tell you, that he will set him over all that he has.

45

But if that servant says in his heart, ‘My lord delays his coming,’ and begins to beat the menservants and the maidservants, and to eat and drink, and to be drunken,

46

then the lord of that servant will come in a day when he isn’t expecting him, and in an hour that he doesn’t know, and will cut him in two, and place his portion with the unfaithful.

47

That servant, who knew his lord’s will, and didn’t prepare, nor do what he wanted, will be beaten with many stripes,

48

but he who didn’t know, and did things worthy of stripes, will be beaten with few stripes. To whomever much is given, of him will much be required; and to whom much was entrusted, of him more will be asked.

49

“I came to throw fire on the earth. I wish it were already kindled.

50

But I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how distressed I am until it is accomplished!

51

Do you think that I have come to give peace in the earth? I tell you, no, but rather division.

52

For from now on, there will be five in one house divided, three against two, and two against three.

53

They will be divided, father against son, and son against father; mother against daughter, and daughter against her mother; mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law, and daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law.”

54

He said to the multitudes also,

“When you see a cloud rising from the west, immediately you say, ‘A shower is coming,’ and so it happens.

55

When a south wind blows, you say, ‘There will be a scorching heat,’ and it happens.

56

You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of the earth and the sky, but how is it that you don’t interpret this time?

57

Why don’t you judge for yourselves what is right?

58

For when you are going with your adversary before the magistrate, try diligently on the way to be released from him, lest perhaps he drag you to the judge, and the judge deliver you to the officer, and the officer throw you into prison.

59

I tell you, you will by no means get out of there, until you have paid the very last penny.

”

1 Corinthians 4

1

So let a man think of us as Christ’s servants, and stewards of God’s mysteries.

2

Here, moreover, it is required of stewards that they be found faithful.

3

But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you, or by man’s judgment. Yes, I don’t judge my own self.

4

For I know nothing against myself. Yet I am not justified by this, but he who judges me is the Lord.

5

Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord comes, who will both bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and reveal the counsels of the hearts. Then each man will get his praise from God.

6

Now these things, brothers, I have in a figure transferred to myself and Apollos for your sakes, that in us you might learn not to think beyond the things which are written, that none of you be puffed up against one another.

7

For who makes you different? And what do you have that you didn’t receive? But if you did receive it, why do you boast as if you had not received it?

8

You are already filled. You have already become rich. You have come to reign without us. Yes, and I wish that you did reign, that we also might reign with you.

9

For I think that God has displayed us, the apostles, last of all, like men sentenced to death. For we are made a spectacle to the world, both to angels and men.

10

We are fools for Christ’s sake, but you are wise in Christ. We are weak, but you are strong. You have honor, but we have dishonor.

11

Even to this present hour we hunger, thirst, are naked, are beaten, and have no certain dwelling place.

12

We toil, working with our own hands. When people curse us, we bless. Being persecuted, we endure.

13

Being defamed, we entreat. We are made as the filth of the world, the dirt wiped off by all, even until now.

14

I don’t write these things to shame you, but to admonish you as my beloved children.

15

For though you have ten thousand tutors in Christ, you don’t have many fathers. For in Christ Jesus, I became your father through the Good News.

16

I beg you therefore, be imitators of me.

17

Because of this I have sent Timothy to you, who is my beloved and faithful child in the Lord, who will remind you of my ways which are in Christ, even as I teach everywhere in every assembly.

18

Now some are puffed up, as though I were not coming to you.

19

But I will come to you shortly, if the Lord is willing. And I will know, not the word of those who are puffed up, but the power.

20

For God’s Kingdom is not in word, but in power.

21

What do you want? Shall I come to you with a rod, or in love and a spirit of gentleness?

Numbers 13

1

Yahweh spoke to Moses, saying,

2

“Send men, that they may spy out the land of Canaan, which I give to the children of Israel. Of every tribe of their fathers, you shall send a man, every one a prince among them.”

3

Moses sent them from the wilderness of Paran according to the commandment of Yahweh. All of them were men who were heads of the children of Israel.

4

These were their names:

Of the tribe of Reuben, Shammua the son of Zaccur.

5

Of the tribe of Simeon, Shaphat the son of Hori.

6

Of the tribe of Judah, Caleb the son of Jephunneh.

7

Of the tribe of Issachar, Igal the son of Joseph.

8

Of the tribe of Ephraim, Hoshea the son of Nun.

9

Of the tribe of Benjamin, Palti the son of Raphu.

10

Of the tribe of Zebulun, Gaddiel the son of Sodi.

11

Of the tribe of Joseph, of the tribe of Manasseh, Gaddi the son of Susi.

12

Of the tribe of Dan, Ammiel the son of Gemalli.

13

Of the tribe of Asher, Sethur the son of Michael.

14

Of the tribe of Naphtali, Nahbi the son of Vophsi.

15

Of the tribe of Gad, Geuel the son of Machi.

16

These are the names of the men who Moses sent to spy out the land. Moses called Hoshea the son of Nun Joshua.

17

Moses sent them to spy out the land of Canaan, and said to them, “Go up this way by the South, and go up into the hill country.

18

See the land, what it is; and the people who dwell therein, whether they are strong or weak, whether they are few or many;

19

and what the land is that they dwell in, whether it is good or bad; and what cities they are that they dwell in, whether in camps, or in strongholds;

20

and what the land is, whether it is fertile or poor, whether there is wood therein, or not. Be courageous, and bring some of the fruit of the land.” Now the time was the time of the first-ripe grapes.

21

So they went up, and spied out the land from the wilderness of Zin to Rehob, to the entrance of Hamath.

22

They went up by the South, and came to Hebron; and Ahiman, Sheshai, and Talmai, the children of Anak, were there. (Now Hebron was built seven years before Zoan in Egypt.)

23

They came to the valley of Eshcol, and cut down from there a branch with one cluster of grapes, and they bore it on a staff between two. They also brought some of the pomegranates and figs.

24

That place was called the valley of Eshcol, because of the cluster which the children of Israel cut down from there.

25

They returned from spying out the land at the end of forty days.

26

They went and came to Moses, to Aaron, and to all the congregation of the children of Israel, to the wilderness of Paran, to Kadesh; and brought back word to them and to all the congregation. They showed them the fruit of the land.

27

They told him, and said, “We came to the land where you sent us. Surely it flows with milk and honey, and this is its fruit.

28

However, the people who dwell in the land are strong, and the cities are fortified and very large. Moreover, we saw the children of Anak there.

29

Amalek dwells in the land of the South. The Hittite, the Jebusite, and the Amorite dwell in the hill country. The Canaanite dwells by the sea, and along the side of the Jordan.”

30

Caleb stilled the people before Moses, and said, “Let’s go up at once, and possess it; for we are well able to overcome it!”

31

But the men who went up with him said, “We aren’t able to go up against the people; for they are stronger than we.”

32

They brought up an evil report of the land which they had spied out to the children of Israel, saying, “The land, through which we have gone to spy it out, is a land that eats up its inhabitants; and all the people who we saw in it are men of great stature.

33

There we saw the Nephilim, the sons of Anak, who come from the Nephilim. We were in our own sight as grasshoppers, and so we were in their sight.”

Psalms 113

1

Praise Yah!

Praise, you servants of Yahweh,

praise Yahweh’s name.

2

Blessed be Yahweh’s name,

from this time forward and forever more.

3

From the rising of the sun to its going down,

Yahweh’s name is to be praised.

4

Yahweh is high above all nations,

his glory above the heavens.

5

Who is like Yahweh, our God,

who has his seat on high,

6

Who stoops down to see in heaven and in the earth?

7

He raises up the poor out of the dust.

Lifts up the needy from the ash heap,

8

that he may set him with princes,

even with the princes of his people.

9

He settles the barren woman in her home

as a joyful mother of children.

Praise Yah!

Exodus 14

1

Yahweh spoke to Moses, saying,

2

“Speak to the children of Israel, that they turn back and encamp before Pihahiroth, between Migdol and the sea, before Baal Zephon. You shall encamp opposite it by the sea.

3

Pharaoh will say of the children of Israel, ‘They are entangled in the land. The wilderness has shut them in.’

4

I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, and he will follow after them; and I will get honor over Pharaoh, and over all his armies; and the Egyptians shall know that I am Yahweh.” They did so.

5

The king of Egypt was told that the people had fled; and the heart of Pharaoh and of his servants was changed toward the people, and they said, “What is this we have done, that we have let Israel go from serving us?”

6

He prepared his chariot, and took his army with him;

7

and he took six hundred chosen chariots, and all the chariots of Egypt, with captains over all of them.

8

Yahweh hardened the heart of Pharaoh king of Egypt, and he pursued the children of Israel; for the children of Israel went out with a high hand.

9

The Egyptians pursued them. All the horses and chariots of Pharaoh, his horsemen, and his army overtook them encamping by the sea, beside Pihahiroth, before Baal Zephon.

10

When Pharaoh came near, the children of Israel lifted up their eyes, and behold, the Egyptians were marching after them; and they were very afraid. The children of Israel cried out to Yahweh.

11

They said to Moses, “Because there were no graves in Egypt, have you taken us away to die in the wilderness? Why have you treated us this way, to bring us out of Egypt?

12

Isn’t this the word that we spoke to you in Egypt, saying, ‘Leave us alone, that we may serve the Egyptians?’ For it would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness.”

13

Moses said to the people, “Don’t be afraid. Stand still, and see the salvation of Yahweh, which he will work for you today; for you will never again see the Egyptians whom you have seen today.

14

Yahweh will fight for you, and you shall be still.”

15

Yahweh said to Moses, “Why do you cry to me? Speak to the children of Israel, that they go forward.

16

Lift up your rod, and stretch out your hand over the sea and divide it. Then the children of Israel shall go into the middle of the sea on dry ground.

17

Behold, I myself will harden the hearts of the Egyptians, and they will go in after them. I will get myself honor over Pharaoh, and over all his armies, over his chariots, and over his horsemen.

18

The Egyptians shall know that I am Yahweh when I have gotten myself honor over Pharaoh, over his chariots, and over his horsemen.”

19

The angel of God, who went before the camp of Israel, moved and went behind them; and the pillar of cloud moved from before them, and stood behind them.

20

It came between the camp of Egypt and the camp of Israel. There was the cloud and the darkness, yet it gave light by night. One didn’t come near the other all night.

21

Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and Yahweh caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind all night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were divided.

22

The children of Israel went into the middle of the sea on the dry ground; and the waters were a wall to them on their right hand and on their left.

23

The Egyptians pursued, and went in after them into the middle of the sea: all of Pharaoh’s horses, his chariots, and his horsemen.

24

In the morning watch, Yahweh looked out on the Egyptian army through the pillar of fire and of cloud, and confused the Egyptian army.

25

He took off their chariot wheels, and they drove them heavily; so that the Egyptians said, “Let’s flee from the face of Israel, for Yahweh fights for them against the Egyptians!”

26

Yahweh said to Moses, “Stretch out your hand over the sea, that the waters may come again on the Egyptians, on their chariots, and on their horsemen.”

27

Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and the sea returned to its strength when the morning appeared; and the Egyptians fled against it. Yahweh overthrew the Egyptians in the middle of the sea.

28

The waters returned, and covered the chariots and the horsemen, even all Pharaoh’s army that went in after them into the sea. There remained not so much as one of them.

29

But the children of Israel walked on dry land in the middle of the sea, and the waters were a wall to them on their right hand and on their left.

30

Thus Yahweh saved Israel that day out of the hand of the Egyptians; and Israel saw the Egyptians dead on the seashore.

31

Israel saw the great work which Yahweh did to the Egyptians, and the people feared Yahweh; and they believed in Yahweh and in his servant Moses.

Joshua 3

1

Joshua got up early in the morning; and they moved from Shittim and came to the Jordan, he and all the children of Israel. They camped there before they crossed over.

2

After three days, the officers went through the middle of the camp;

3

and they commanded the people, saying, “When you see the ark of Yahweh your God’s covenant, and the Levitical priests bearing it, then leave your place and follow it.

4

Yet there shall be a space between you and it of about two thousand cubits by measure—don’t come closer to it—that you may know the way by which you must go; for you have not passed this way before.”

5

Joshua said to the people, “Sanctify yourselves; for tomorrow Yahweh will do wonders among you.”

6

Joshua spoke to the priests, saying, “Take up the ark of the covenant, and cross over before the people.” They took up the ark of the covenant, and went before the people.

7

Yahweh said to Joshua, “Today I will begin to magnify you in the sight of all Israel, that they may know that as I was with Moses, so I will be with you.

8

You shall command the priests who bear the ark of the covenant, saying, ‘When you come to the brink of the waters of the Jordan, you shall stand still in the Jordan.’ ”

9

Joshua said to the children of Israel, “Come here, and hear the words of Yahweh your God.”

10

Joshua said, “By this you shall know that the living God is among you, and that he will without fail drive the Canaanite, the Hittite, the Hivite, the Perizzite, the Girgashite, the Amorite, and the Jebusite out from before you.

11

Behold, the ark of the covenant of the Lord of all the earth passes over before you into the Jordan.

12

Now therefore take twelve men out of the tribes of Israel, for every tribe a man.

13

It shall be that when the soles of the feet of the priests who bear the ark of Yahweh, the Lord of all the earth, rest in the waters of the Jordan, that the waters of the Jordan will be cut off. The waters that come down from above shall stand in one heap.”

14

When the people moved from their tents to pass over the Jordan, the priests who bore the ark of the covenant being before the people,

15

and when those who bore the ark had come to the Jordan, and the feet of the priests who bore the ark had dipped in the edge of the water (for the Jordan overflows all its banks all the time of harvest),

16

the waters which came down from above stood, and rose up in one heap a great way off, at Adam, the city that is beside Zarethan; and those that went down toward the sea of the Arabah, even the Salt Sea, were wholly cut off. Then the people passed over near Jericho.

17

The priests who bore the ark of Yahweh’s covenant stood firm on dry ground in the middle of the Jordan; and all Israel crossed over on dry ground, until all the nation had passed completely over the Jordan.

John 8

1

but Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.

2

Now very early in the morning, he came again into the temple, and all the people came to him. He sat down and taught them.

3

The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman taken in adultery. Having set her in the middle,

4

they told him, “Teacher, we found this woman in adultery, in the very act.

5

Now in our law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. What then do you say about her?”

6

They said this testing him, that they might have something to accuse him of.

But Jesus stooped down and wrote on the ground with his finger.

7

But when they continued asking him, he looked up and said to them,

“He who is without sin among you, let him throw the first stone at her.”

8

Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground with his finger.

9

They, when they heard it, being convicted by their conscience, went out one by one, beginning from the oldest, even to the last. Jesus was left alone with the woman where she was, in the middle.

10

Jesus, standing up, saw her and said,

“Woman, where are your accusers? Did no one condemn you?”

11

She said, “No one, Lord.”

Jesus said,

“Neither do I condemn you. Go your way. From now on, sin no more.”

12

Again, therefore, Jesus spoke to them, saying,

“I am the light of the world.

He who follows me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the light of life.”

13

The Pharisees therefore said to him, “You testify about yourself. Your testimony is not valid.”

14

Jesus answered them,

“Even if I testify about myself, my testimony is true, for I know where I came from, and where I am going; but you don’t know where I came from, or where I am going.

15

You judge according to the flesh. I judge no one.

16

Even if I do judge, my judgment is true, for I am not alone, but I am with the Father who sent me.

17

It’s also written in your law that the testimony of two people is valid.

18

I am one who testifies about myself, and the Father who sent me testifies about me.”

19

They said therefore to him, “Where is your Father?”

Jesus answered,

“You know neither me nor my Father. If you knew me, you would know my Father also.”

20

Jesus spoke these words in the treasury, as he taught in the temple. Yet no one arrested him, because his hour had not yet come.

21

Jesus said therefore again to them,

“I am going away, and you will seek me, and you will die in your sins. Where I go, you can’t come.”

22

The Jews therefore said, “Will he kill himself, because he says,

‘Where I am going, you can’t come’

?”

23

He said to them,

“You are from beneath. I am from above. You are of this world. I am not of this world.

24

I said therefore to you that you will die in your sins; for unless you believe that I am

he, you will die in your sins.”

25

They said therefore to him, “Who are you?”

Jesus said to them,

“Just what I have been saying to you from the beginning.

26

I have many things to speak and to judge concerning you. However he who sent me is true; and the things which I heard from him, these I say to the world.”

27

They didn’t understand that he spoke to them about the Father.

28

Jesus therefore said to them,

“When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he, and I do nothing of myself, but as my Father taught me, I say these things.

29

He who sent me is with me. The Father hasn’t left me alone, for I always do the things that are pleasing to him.”

30

As he spoke these things, many believed in him.

31

Jesus therefore said to those Jews who had believed him,

“If you remain in my word, then you are truly my disciples.

32

You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.”

33

They answered him, “We are Abraham’s offspring, and have never been in bondage to anyone. How do you say,

‘You will be made free’

?”

34

Jesus answered them,

“Most certainly I tell you, everyone who commits sin is the bondservant of sin.

35

A bondservant doesn’t live in the house forever. A son remains forever.

36

If therefore the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.

37

I know that you are Abraham’s offspring, yet you seek to kill me, because my word finds no place in you.

38

I say the things which I have seen with my Father; and you also do the things which you have seen with your father.”

39

They answered him, “Our father is Abraham.”

Jesus said to them,

“If you were Abraham’s children, you would do the works of Abraham.

40

But now you seek to kill me, a man who has told you the truth which I heard from God. Abraham didn’t do this.

41

You do the works of your father.”

They said to him, “We were not born of sexual immorality. We have one Father, God.”

42

Therefore Jesus said to them,

“If God were your father, you would love me, for I came out and have come from God. For I haven’t come of myself, but he sent me.

43

Why don’t you understand my speech? Because you can’t hear my word.

44

You are of your father, the devil, and you want to do the desires of your father. He was a murderer from the beginning, and doesn’t stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaks a lie, he speaks on his own; for he is a liar, and the father of lies.

45

But because I tell the truth, you don’t believe me.

46

Which of you convicts me of sin? If I tell the truth, why do you not believe me?

47

He who is of God hears the words of God. For this cause you don’t hear, because you are not of God.”

48

Then the Jews answered him, “Don’t we say well that you are a Samaritan, and have a demon?”

49

Jesus answered,

“I don’t have a demon, but I honor my Father and you dishonor me.

50

But I don’t seek my own glory. There is one who seeks and judges.

51

Most certainly, I tell you, if a person keeps my word, he will never see death.”

52

Then the Jews said to him, “Now we know that you have a demon. Abraham died, as did the prophets; and you say,

‘If a man keeps my word, he will never taste of death.’

53

Are you greater than our father, Abraham, who died? The prophets died. Who do you make yourself out to be?”

54

Jesus answered,

“If I glorify myself, my glory is nothing. It is my Father who glorifies me, of whom you say that he is our God.

55

You have not known him, but I know him. If I said, ‘I don’t know him,’ I would be like you, a liar. But I know him and keep his word.

56

Your father Abraham rejoiced to see my day. He saw it, and was glad.”

57

The Jews therefore said to him, “You are not yet fifty years old! Have you seen Abraham?”

58

Jesus said to them,

“Most certainly, I tell you, before Abraham came into existence, I AM.

”

59

Therefore they took up stones to throw at him, but Jesus was hidden, and went out of the temple, having gone through the middle of them, and so passed by.

John 16

1

“I have said these things to you so that you wouldn’t be caused to stumble.

2

They will put you out of the synagogues. Yes, the time comes that whoever kills you will think that he offers service to God.

3

They will do these things

because they have not known the Father, nor me.

4

But I have told you these things, so that when the time comes, you may remember that I told you about them. I didn’t tell you these things from the beginning, because I was with you.

5

But now I am going to him who sent me, and none of you asks me, ‘Where are you going?’

6

But because I have told you these things, sorrow has filled your heart.

7

Nevertheless I tell you the truth: It is to your advantage that I go away, for if I don’t go away, the Counselor won’t come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you.

8

When he has come, he will convict the world about sin, about righteousness, and about judgment;

9

about sin, because they don’t believe in me;

10

about righteousness, because I am going to my Father, and you won’t see me any more;

11

about judgment, because the prince of this world has been judged.

12

“I still have many things to tell you, but you can’t bear them now.

13

However when he, the Spirit of truth, has come, he will guide you into all truth, for he will not speak from himself; but whatever he hears, he will speak. He will declare to you things that are coming.

14

He will glorify me, for he will take from what is mine, and will declare it to you.

15

All things that the Father has are mine; therefore I said that he takes

of mine and will declare it to you.

16

A little while, and you will not see me. Again a little while, and you will see me.”

17

Some of his disciples therefore said to one another, “What is this that he says to us,

‘A little while, and you won’t see me, and again a little while, and you will see me;’

and,

‘Because I go to the Father’

?”

18

They said therefore, “What is this that he says,

‘A little while’

? We don’t know what he is saying.”

19

Therefore Jesus perceived that they wanted to ask him, and he said to them,

“Do you inquire among yourselves concerning this, that I said, ‘A little while, and you won’t see me, and again a little while, and you will see me?’

20

Most certainly I tell you that you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will be turned into joy.

21

A woman, when she gives birth, has sorrow because her time has come. But when she has delivered the child, she doesn’t remember the anguish any more, for the joy that a human being is born into the world.

22

Therefore you now have sorrow, but I will see you again, and your heart will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you.

23

“In that day you will ask me no questions. Most certainly I tell you, whatever you may ask of the Father in my name, he will give it to you.

24

Until now, you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be made full.

25

I have spoken these things to you in figures of speech. But the time is coming when I will no more speak to you in figures of speech, but will tell you plainly about the Father.

26

In that day you will ask in my name; and I don’t say to you that I will pray to the Father for you,

27

for the Father himself loves you, because you have loved me, and have believed that I came from God.

28

I came from the Father, and have come into the world. Again, I leave the world, and go to the Father.”

29

His disciples said to him, “Behold, now you are speaking plainly, and using no figures of speech.

30

Now we know that you know all things, and don’t need for anyone to question you. By this we believe that you came from God.”

31

Jesus answered them,

“Do you now believe?

32

Behold, the time is coming, yes, and has now come, that you will be scattered, everyone to his own place, and you will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me.

33

I have told you these things, that in me you may have peace. In the world you have trouble; but cheer up! I have overcome the world.”

Matthew 25

1

“Then the Kingdom of Heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom.

2

Five of them were foolish, and five were wise.

3

Those who were foolish, when they took their lamps, took no oil with them,

4

but the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps.

5

Now while the bridegroom delayed, they all slumbered and slept.

6

But at midnight there was a cry, ‘Behold! The bridegroom is coming! Come out to meet him!’

7

Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps.

8

The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’

9

But the wise answered, saying, ‘What if there isn’t enough for us and you? You go rather to those who sell, and buy for yourselves.’

10

While they went away to buy, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the wedding feast, and the door was shut.

11

Afterward the other virgins also came, saying, ‘Lord, Lord, open to us.’

12

But he answered, ‘Most certainly I tell you, I don’t know you.’

13

Watch therefore, for you don’t know the day nor the hour in which the Son of Man is coming.

14

“For it is like a man going into another country, who called his own servants and entrusted his goods to them.

15

To one he gave five talents,

to another two, to another one, to each according to his own ability. Then he went on his journey.

16

Immediately he who received the five talents went and traded with them, and made another five talents.

17

In the same way, he also who got the two gained another two.

18

But he who received the one talent went away and dug in the earth and hid his lord’s money.

19

“Now after a long time the lord of those servants came, and settled accounts with them.

20

He who received the five talents came and brought another five talents, saying, ‘Lord, you delivered to me five talents. Behold, I have gained another five talents in addition to them.’

21

“His lord said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a few things, I will set you over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord.’

22

“He also who got the two talents came and said, ‘Lord, you delivered to me two talents. Behold, I have gained another two talents in addition to them.’

23

“His lord said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a few things. I will set you over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord.’

24

“He also who had received the one talent came and said, ‘Lord, I knew you that you are a hard man, reaping where you didn’t sow, and gathering where you didn’t scatter.

25

I was afraid, and went away and hid your talent in the earth. Behold, you have what is yours.’

26

“But his lord answered him, ‘You wicked and slothful servant. You knew that I reap where I didn’t sow, and gather where I didn’t scatter.

27

You ought therefore to have deposited my money with the bankers, and at my coming I should have received back my own with interest.

28

Take away therefore the talent from him and give it to him who has the ten talents.

29

For to everyone who has will be given, and he will have abundance, but from him who doesn’t have, even that which he has will be taken away.

30

Throw out the unprofitable servant into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’

31

“But when the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory.

32

Before him all the nations will be gathered, and he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.

33

He will set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left.

34

Then the King will tell those on his right hand, ‘Come, blessed of my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world;

35

for I was hungry and you gave me food to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me drink. I was a stranger and you took me in.

36

I was naked and you clothed me. I was sick and you visited me. I was in prison and you came to me.’

37

“Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you a drink?

38

When did we see you as a stranger and take you in, or naked and clothe you?

39

When did we see you sick or in prison and come to you?’

40

“The King will answer them, ‘Most certainly I tell you, because you did it to one of the least of these my brothers,

you did it to me.’

41

Then he will say also to those on the left hand, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire which is prepared for the devil and his angels;

42

for I was hungry, and you didn’t give me food to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave me no drink;

43

I was a stranger, and you didn’t take me in; naked, and you didn’t clothe me; sick, and in prison, and you didn’t visit me.’

44

“Then they will also answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry, or thirsty, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and didn’t help you?’

45

“Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Most certainly I tell you, because you didn’t do it to one of the least of these, you didn’t do it to me.’

46

These will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”

Acts 9

1

But Saul, still breathing threats and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest

2

and asked for letters from him to the synagogues of Damascus, that if he found any who were of the Way, whether men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem.

3

As he traveled, he got close to Damascus, and suddenly a light from the sky shone around him.

4

He fell on the earth, and heard a voice saying to him,

“Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

5

He said, “Who are you, Lord?”

The Lord said,

“I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.

6

But

rise up and enter into the city, then you will be told what you must do.”

7

The men who traveled with him stood speechless, hearing the sound, but seeing no one.

8

Saul arose from the ground, and when his eyes were opened, he saw no one. They led him by the hand, and brought him into Damascus.

9

He was without sight for three days, and neither ate nor drank.

10

Now there was a certain disciple at Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision,

“Ananias!”

He said, “Behold, it’s me, Lord.”

11

The Lord said to him,

“Arise, and go to the street which is called Straight, and inquire in the house of Judah

for one named Saul, a man of Tarsus. For behold, he is praying,

12

and in a vision he has seen a man named Ananias coming in and laying his hands on him, that he might receive his sight.”

13

But Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he did to your saints at Jerusalem.

14

Here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who call on your name.”

15

But the Lord said to him,

“Go your way, for he is my chosen vessel to bear my name before the nations and kings, and the children of Israel.

16

For I will show him how many things he must suffer for my name’s sake.”

17

Ananias departed and entered into the house. Laying his hands on him, he said, “Brother Saul, the Lord, who appeared to you on the road by which you came, has sent me that you may receive your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.”

18

Immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and he received his sight. He arose and was baptized.

19

He took food and was strengthened. Saul stayed several days with the disciples who were at Damascus.

20

Immediately in the synagogues he proclaimed the Christ, that he is the Son of God.

21

All who heard him were amazed, and said, “Isn’t this he who in Jerusalem made havoc of those who called on this name? And he had come here intending to bring them bound before the chief priests!”

22

But Saul increased more in strength, and confounded the Jews who lived at Damascus, proving that this is the Christ.

23

When many days were fulfilled, the Jews conspired together to kill him,

24

but their plot became known to Saul. They watched the gates both day and night that they might kill him,

25

but his disciples took him by night and let him down through the wall, lowering him in a basket.

26

When Saul had come to Jerusalem, he tried to join himself to the disciples; but they were all afraid of him, not believing that he was a disciple.

27

But Barnabas took him and brought him to the apostles, and declared to them how he had seen the Lord on the way, and that he had spoken to him, and how at Damascus he had preached boldly in the name of Jesus.

28

He was with them entering into Jerusalem,

29

preaching boldly in the name of the Lord Jesus. He spoke and disputed against the Hellenists, but they were seeking to kill him.

30

When the brothers knew it, they brought him down to Caesarea, and sent him off to Tarsus.

31

So the assemblies throughout all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria had peace, and were built up. They were multiplied, walking in the fear of the Lord and in the comfort of the Holy Spirit.

32

As Peter went throughout all those parts, he came down also to the saints who lived at Lydda.

33

There he found a certain man named Aeneas, who had been bedridden for eight years, because he was paralyzed.

34

Peter said to him, “Aeneas, Jesus Christ heals you. Get up and make your bed!” Immediately he arose.

35

All who lived at Lydda and in Sharon saw him, and they turned to the Lord.

36

Now there was at Joppa a certain disciple named Tabitha, which when translated, means Dorcas. This woman was full of good works and acts of mercy which she did.

37

In those days, she became sick, and died. When they had washed her, they laid her in an upper room.

38

As Lydda was near Joppa, the disciples, hearing that Peter was there, sent two men to him, imploring him not to delay in coming to them.

39

Peter got up and went with them. When he had come, they brought him into the upper room. All the widows stood by him weeping, and showing the coats and garments which Dorcas had made while she was with them.

40

Peter sent them all out, and knelt down and prayed. Turning to the body, he said, “Tabitha, get up!” She opened her eyes, and when she saw Peter, she sat up.

41

He gave her his hand, and raised her up. Calling the saints and widows, he presented her alive.

42

This became known throughout all Joppa, and many believed in the Lord.

43

He stayed many days in Joppa with a tanner named Simon.

Psalms 115

1

Not to us, Yahweh, not to us,

but to your name give glory,

for your loving kindness, and for your truth’s sake.

2

Why should the nations say,

“Where is their God, now?”

3

But our God is in the heavens.

He does whatever he pleases.

4

Their idols are silver and gold,

the work of men’s hands.

5

They have mouths, but they don’t speak.

They have eyes, but they don’t see.

6

They have ears, but they don’t hear.

They have noses, but they don’t smell.

7

They have hands, but they don’t feel.

They have feet, but they don’t walk,

neither do they speak through their throat.

8

Those who make them will be like them;

yes, everyone who trusts in them.

9

Israel, trust in Yahweh!

He is their help and their shield.

10

House of Aaron, trust in Yahweh!

He is their help and their shield.

11

You who fear Yahweh, trust in Yahweh!

He is their help and their shield.

12

Yahweh remembers us. He will bless us.

He will bless the house of Israel.

He will bless the house of Aaron.

13

He will bless those who fear Yahweh,

both small and great.

14

May Yahweh increase you more and more,

you and your children.

15

Blessed are you by Yahweh,

who made heaven and earth.

16

The heavens are Yahweh’s heavens,

but he has given the earth to the children of men.

17

The dead don’t praise Yah,

neither any who go down into silence;

18

but we will bless Yah,

from this time forward and forever more.

Praise Yah!

John 18

1

When Jesus had spoken these words, he went out with his disciples over the brook Kidron, where there was a garden, into which he and his disciples entered.

2

Now Judas, who betrayed him, also knew the place, for Jesus often met there with his disciples.

3

Judas then, having taken a detachment of soldiers and officers from the chief priests and the Pharisees, came there with lanterns, torches, and weapons.

4

Jesus therefore, knowing all the things that were happening to him, went out, and said to them,

“Who are you looking for?”

5

They answered him, “Jesus of Nazareth.”

Jesus said to them,

“I am he.”

Judas also, who betrayed him, was standing with them.

6

When therefore he said to them,

“I am he,”

they went backward, and fell to the ground.

7

Again therefore he asked them,

“Who are you looking for?”

They said, “Jesus of Nazareth.”

8

Jesus answered,

“I told you that I am he. If therefore you seek me, let these go their way,”

9

that the word might be fulfilled which he spoke,

“Of those whom you have given me, I have lost none.”

10

Simon Peter therefore, having a sword, drew it, struck the high priest’s servant, and cut off his right ear. The servant’s name was Malchus.

11

Jesus therefore said to Peter,

“Put the sword into its sheath. The cup which the Father has given me, shall I not surely drink it?”

12

So the detachment, the commanding officer, and the officers of the Jews seized Jesus and bound him,

13

and led him to Annas first, for he was father-in-law to Caiaphas, who was high priest that year.

14

Now it was Caiaphas who advised the Jews that it was expedient that one man should perish for the people.

15

Simon Peter followed Jesus, as did another disciple. Now that disciple was known to the high priest, and entered in with Jesus into the court of the high priest;

16

but Peter was standing at the door outside. So the other disciple, who was known to the high priest, went out and spoke to her who kept the door, and brought in Peter.

17

Then the maid who kept the door said to Peter, “Are you also one of this man’s disciples?”

He said, “I am not.”

18

Now the servants and the officers were standing there, having made a fire of coals, for it was cold. They were warming themselves. Peter was with them, standing and warming himself.

19

The high priest therefore asked Jesus about his disciples and about his teaching.

20

Jesus answered him,

“I spoke openly to the world. I always taught in synagogues, and in the temple, where the Jews always meet. I said nothing in secret.

21

Why do you ask me? Ask those who have heard me what I said to them. Behold, they know the things which I said.”

22

When he had said this, one of the officers standing by slapped Jesus with his hand, saying, “Do you answer the high priest like that?”

23

Jesus answered him,

“If I have spoken evil, testify of the evil; but if well, why do you beat me?”

24

Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas, the high priest.

25

Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. They said therefore to him, “You aren’t also one of his disciples, are you?”

He denied it and said, “I am not.”

26

One of the servants of the high priest, being a relative of him whose ear Peter had cut off, said, “Didn’t I see you in the garden with him?”

27

Peter therefore denied it again, and immediately the rooster crowed.

28

They led Jesus therefore from Caiaphas into the Praetorium. It was early, and they themselves didn’t enter into the Praetorium, that they might not be defiled, but might eat the Passover.

29

Pilate therefore went out to them, and said, “What accusation do you bring against this man?”

30

They answered him, “If this man weren’t an evildoer, we wouldn’t have delivered him up to you.”

31

Pilate therefore said to them, “Take him yourselves, and judge him according to your law.”

Therefore the Jews said to him, “It is illegal for us to put anyone to death,”

32

that the word of Jesus might be fulfilled, which he spoke, signifying by what kind of death he should die.

33

Pilate therefore entered again into the Praetorium, called Jesus, and said to him, “Are you the King of the Jews?”

34

Jesus answered him,

“Do you say this by yourself, or did others tell you about me?”

35

Pilate answered, “I’m not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests delivered you to me. What have you done?”

36

Jesus answered,

“My Kingdom is not of this world. If my Kingdom were of this world, then my servants would fight, that I wouldn’t be delivered to the Jews. But now my Kingdom is not from here.”

37

Pilate therefore said to him, “Are you a king then?”

Jesus answered,

“You say that I am a king. For this reason I have been born, and for this reason I have come into the world, that I should testify to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice.”

38

Pilate said to him, “What is truth?”

When he had said this, he went out again to the Jews, and said to them, “I find no basis for a charge against him.

39

But you have a custom, that I should release someone to you at the Passover. Therefore, do you want me to release to you the King of the Jews?”

40

Then they all shouted again, saying, “Not this man, but Barabbas!” Now Barabbas was a robber.

Mark 14

1

It was now two days before the feast of the Passover and the unleavened bread, and the chief priests and the scribes sought how they might seize him by deception, and kill him.

2

For they said, “Not during the feast, because there might be a riot among the people.”

3

While he was at Bethany, in the house of Simon the leper, as he sat at the table, a woman came having an alabaster jar of ointment of pure nard—very costly. She broke the jar, and poured it over his head.

4

But there were some who were indignant among themselves, saying, “Why has this ointment been wasted?

5

For this might have been sold for more than three hundred denarii, and given to the poor.” So they grumbled against her.

6

But Jesus said,

“Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a good work for me.

7

For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want to, you can do them good; but you will not always have me.

8

She has done what she could. She has anointed my body beforehand for the burying.

9

Most certainly I tell you, wherever this Good News may be preached throughout the whole world, that which this woman has done will also be spoken of for a memorial of her.”

10

Judas Iscariot, who was one of the twelve, went away to the chief priests, that he might deliver him to them.

11

They, when they heard it, were glad, and promised to give him money. He sought how he might conveniently deliver him.

12

On the first day of unleavened bread, when they sacrificed the Passover, his disciples asked him, “Where do you want us to go and prepare that you may eat the Passover?”

13

He sent two of his disciples, and said to them,

“Go into the city, and there a man carrying a pitcher of water will meet you. Follow him,

14

and wherever he enters in, tell the master of the house, ‘The Teacher says, “Where is the guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?” ’

15

He will himself show you a large upper room furnished and ready. Get ready for us there.”

16

His disciples went out, and came into the city, and found things as he had said to them, and they prepared the Passover.

17

When it was evening he came with the twelve.

18

As they sat and were eating, Jesus said,

“Most certainly I tell you, one of you will betray me—he who eats with me.”

19

They began to be sorrowful, and to ask him one by one, “Surely not I?” And another said, “Surely not I?”

20

He answered them,

“It is one of the twelve, he who dips with me in the dish.

21

For the Son of Man goes, even as it is written about him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would be better for that man if he had not been born.”

22

As they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had blessed, he broke it, and gave to them, and said,

“Take, eat. This is my body.”

23

He took the cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave to them. They all drank of it.

24

He said to them,

“This is my blood of the new covenant, which is poured out for many.

25

Most certainly I tell you, I will no more drink of the fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it anew in God’s Kingdom.”

26

When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.

27

Jesus said to them,

“All of you will be made to stumble because of me tonight, for it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.’

28

However, after I am raised up, I will go before you into Galilee.”

29

But Peter said to him, “Although all will be offended, yet I will not.”

30

Jesus said to him,

“Most certainly I tell you that you today, even this night, before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times.”

31

But he spoke all the more, “If I must die with you, I will not deny you.” They all said the same thing.

32

They came to a place which was named Gethsemane. He said to his disciples,

“Sit here, while I pray.”

33

He took with him Peter, James, and John, and began to be greatly troubled and distressed.

34

He said to them,

“My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death. Stay here, and watch.”

35

He went forward a little, and fell on the ground, and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass away from him.

36

He said,

“Abba,

Father, all things are possible to you. Please remove this cup from me. However, not what I desire, but what you desire.”

37

He came and found them sleeping, and said to Peter,

“Simon, are you sleeping? Couldn’t you watch one hour?

38

Watch and pray, that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

39

Again he went away and prayed, saying the same words.

40

Again he returned, and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy, and they didn’t know what to answer him.

41

He came the third time, and said to them,

“Sleep on now, and take your rest. It is enough. The hour has come. Behold, the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners.

42

Arise! Let’s get going. Behold, he who betrays me is at hand.”

43

Immediately, while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, came—and with him a multitude with swords and clubs, from the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders.

44

Now he who betrayed him had given them a sign, saying, “Whomever I will kiss, that is he. Seize him, and lead him away safely.”

45

When he had come, immediately he came to him, and said, “Rabbi! Rabbi!” and kissed him.

46

They laid their hands on him, and seized him.

47

But a certain one of those who stood by drew his sword, and struck the servant of the high priest, and cut off his ear.

48

Jesus answered them,

“Have you come out, as against a robber, with swords and clubs to seize me?

49

I was daily with you in the temple teaching, and you didn’t arrest me. But this is so that the Scriptures might be fulfilled.”

50

They all left him, and fled.

51

A certain young man followed him, having a linen cloth thrown around himself over his naked body. The young men grabbed him,

52

but he left the linen cloth, and fled from them naked.

53

They led Jesus away to the high priest. All the chief priests, the elders, and the scribes came together with him.

54

Peter had followed him from a distance, until he came into the court of the high priest. He was sitting with the officers, and warming himself in the light of the fire.

55

Now the chief priests and the whole council sought witnesses against Jesus to put him to death, and found none.

56

For many gave false testimony against him, and their testimony didn’t agree with each other.

57

Some stood up and gave false testimony against him, saying,

58

“We heard him say, ‘I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another made without hands.’ ”

59

Even so, their testimony didn’t agree.

60

The high priest stood up in the middle, and asked Jesus, “Have you no answer? What is it which these testify against you?”

61

But he stayed quiet, and answered nothing. Again the high priest asked him, “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?”

62

Jesus said,

“I am. You will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of Power, and coming with the clouds of the sky.”

63

The high priest tore his clothes, and said, “What further need have we of witnesses?

64

You have heard the blasphemy! What do you think?” They all condemned him to be worthy of death.

65

Some began to spit on him, and to cover his face, and to beat him with fists, and to tell him, “Prophesy!” The officers struck him with the palms of their hands.

66

As Peter was in the courtyard below, one of the maids of the high priest came,

67

and seeing Peter warming himself, she looked at him, and said, “You were also with the Nazarene, Jesus!”

68

But he denied it, saying, “I neither know, nor understand what you are saying.” He went out on the porch, and the rooster crowed.

69

The maid saw him, and began again to tell those who stood by, “This is one of them.”

70

But he again denied it. After a little while again those who stood by said to Peter, “You truly are one of them, for you are a Galilean, and your speech shows it.”

71

But he began to curse, and to swear, “I don’t know this man of whom you speak!”

72

The rooster crowed the second time. Peter remembered the word, how that Jesus said to him,

“Before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times.”

When he thought about that, he wept.

John 12

1

Then six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, who had been dead, whom he raised from the dead.

2

So they made him a supper there. Martha served, but Lazarus was one of those who sat at the table with him.

3

Therefore Mary took a pound of ointment of pure nard, very precious, and anointed Jesus’s feet and wiped his feet with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the ointment.

4

Then Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, one of his disciples, who would betray him, said,

5

“Why wasn’t this ointment sold for three hundred denarii, and given to the poor?”

6

Now he said this, not because he cared for the poor, but because he was a thief, and having the money box, used to steal what was put into it.

7

But Jesus said,

“Leave her alone. She has kept this for the day of my burial.

8

For you always have the poor with you, but you don’t always have me.”

9

A large crowd therefore of the Jews learned that he was there, and they came, not for Jesus’ sake only, but that they might see Lazarus also, whom he had raised from the dead.

10

But the chief priests conspired to put Lazarus to death also,

11

because on account of him many of the Jews went away and believed in Jesus.

12

On the next day a great multitude had come to the feast. When they heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem,

13

they took the branches of the palm trees and went out to meet him, and cried out, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel!”

14

Jesus, having found a young donkey, sat on it. As it is written,

15

“Don’t be afraid, daughter of Zion. Behold, your King comes, sitting on a donkey’s colt.”

16

His disciples didn’t understand these things at first, but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things were written about him, and that they had done these things to him.

17

The multitude therefore that was with him when he called Lazarus out of the tomb and raised him from the dead was testifying about it.

18

For this cause also the multitude went and met him, because they heard that he had done this sign.

19

The Pharisees therefore said among themselves, “See how you accomplish nothing. Behold, the world has gone after him.”

20

Now there were certain Greeks among those who went up to worship at the feast.

21

These, therefore, came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida of Galilee, and asked him, saying, “Sir, we want to see Jesus.”

22

Philip came and told Andrew, and in turn, Andrew came with Philip, and they told Jesus.

23

Jesus answered them,

“The time has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.

24

Most certainly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains by itself alone. But if it dies, it bears much fruit.

25

He who loves his life will lose it. He who hates his life in this world will keep it to eternal life.

26

If anyone serves me, let him follow me. Where I am, there my servant will also be. If anyone serves me, the Father will honor him.

27

“Now my soul is troubled. What shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this time?’ But I came to this time for this cause.

28

Father, glorify your name!”

Then a voice came out of the sky, saying, “I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again.”

29

Therefore the multitude who stood by and heard it said that it had thundered. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.”

30

Jesus answered,

“This voice hasn’t come for my sake, but for your sakes.

31

Now is the judgment of this world. Now the prince of this world will be cast out.

32

And I, if I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”

33

But he said this, signifying by what kind of death he should die.

34

The multitude answered him, “We have heard out of the law that the Christ remains forever. How do you say,

‘The Son of Man must be lifted up?’

Who is this Son of Man?”

35

Jesus therefore said to them,

“Yet a little while the light is with you. Walk while you have the light, that darkness doesn’t overtake you. He who walks in the darkness doesn’t know where he is going.

36

While you have the light, believe in the light, that you may become children of light.”

Jesus said these things, and he departed and hid himself from them.

37

But though he had done so many signs before them, yet they didn’t believe in him,

38

that the word of Isaiah the prophet might be fulfilled, which he spoke,

“Lord, who has believed our report?

To whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?”

39

For this cause they couldn’t believe, for Isaiah said again,

40

“He has blinded their eyes and he hardened their heart,

lest they should see with their eyes,

and perceive with their heart,

and would turn,

and I would heal them.”

41

Isaiah said these things when he saw his glory, and spoke of him.

42

Nevertheless even many of the rulers believed in him, but because of the Pharisees they didn’t confess it, so that they wouldn’t be put out of the synagogue,

43

for they loved men’s praise more than God’s praise.

44

Jesus cried out and said,

“Whoever believes in me, believes not in me, but in him who sent me.

45

He who sees me sees him who sent me.

46

I have come as a light into the world, that whoever believes in me may not remain in the darkness.

47

If anyone listens to my sayings, and doesn’t believe, I don’t judge him. For I came not to judge the world, but to save the world.

48

He who rejects me, and doesn’t receive my sayings, has one who judges him. The word that I spoke will judge him in the last day.

49

For I spoke not from myself, but the Father who sent me, he gave me a commandment, what I should say, and what I should speak.

50

I know that his commandment is eternal life. The things therefore which I speak, even as the Father has said to me, so I speak.”

Psalms 144

By David.

1

Blessed be Yahweh, my rock,

who teaches my hands to war,

and my fingers to battle:

2

my loving kindness, my fortress,

my high tower, my deliverer,

my shield, and he in whom I take refuge,

who subdues my people under me.

3

Yahweh, what is man, that you care for him?

Or the son of man, that you think of him?

4

Man is like a breath.

His days are like a shadow that passes away.

5

Part your heavens, Yahweh, and come down.

Touch the mountains, and they will smoke.

6

Throw out lightning, and scatter them.

Send out your arrows, and rout them.

7

Stretch out your hand from above,

rescue me, and deliver me out of great waters,

out of the hands of foreigners,

8

whose mouths speak deceit,

whose right hand is a right hand of falsehood.

9

I will sing a new song to you, God.

On a ten-stringed lyre, I will sing praises to you.

10

You are he who gives salvation to kings,

who rescues David, his servant, from the deadly sword.

11

Rescue me, and deliver me out of the hands of foreigners,

whose mouths speak deceit,

whose right hand is a right hand of falsehood.

12

Then our sons will be like well-nurtured plants,

our daughters like pillars carved to adorn a palace.

13

Our barns are full, filled with all kinds of provision.

Our sheep produce thousands and ten thousands in our fields.

14

Our oxen will pull heavy loads.

There is no breaking in, and no going away,

and no outcry in our streets.

15

Happy are the people who are in such a situation.

Happy are the people whose God is Yahweh.

Luke 10

1

Now after these things, the Lord also appointed seventy others, and sent them two by two ahead of him into every city and place where he was about to come.

2

Then he said to them,

“The harvest is indeed plentiful, but the laborers are few. Pray therefore to the Lord of the harvest, that he may send out laborers into his harvest.

3

Go your ways. Behold, I send you out as lambs among wolves.

4

Carry no purse, nor wallet, nor sandals. Greet no one on the way.

5

Into whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace be to this house.’

6

If a son of peace is there, your peace will rest on him; but if not, it will return to you.

7

Remain in that same house, eating and drinking the things they give, for the laborer is worthy of his wages. Don’t go from house to house.

8

Into whatever city you enter, and they receive you, eat the things that are set before you.

9

Heal the sick who are there, and tell them, ‘God’s Kingdom has come near to you.’

10

But into whatever city you enter, and they don’t receive you, go out into its streets and say,

11

‘Even the dust from your city that clings to us, we wipe off against you. Nevertheless know this, that God’s Kingdom has come near to you.’

12

I tell you, it will be more tolerable in that day for Sodom than for that city.

13

“Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the mighty works had been done in Tyre and Sidon which were done in you, they would have repented long ago, sitting in sackcloth and ashes.

14

But it will be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon in the judgment than for you.

15

You, Capernaum, who are exalted to heaven, will be brought down to Hades.

16

Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me. Whoever rejects me rejects him who sent me.”

17

The seventy returned with joy, saying, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!”

18

He said to them,

“I saw Satan having fallen like lightning from heaven.

19

Behold, I give you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy. Nothing will in any way hurt you.

20

Nevertheless, don’t rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

21

In that same hour Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit, and said,

“I thank you, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for so it was well-pleasing in your sight.”

22

Turning to the disciples, he said,

“All things have been delivered to me by my Father. No one knows who the Son is, except the Father, and who the Father is, except the Son, and he to whomever the Son desires to reveal him.”

23

Turning to the disciples, he said privately,

“Blessed are the eyes which see the things that you see,

24

for I tell you that many prophets and kings desired to see the things which you see, and didn’t see them, and to hear the things which you hear, and didn’t hear them.”

25

Behold, a certain lawyer stood up and tested him, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?”

26

He said to him,

“What is written in the law? How do you read it?”

27

He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.”

28

He said to him,

“You have answered correctly. Do this, and you will live.”

29

But he, desiring to justify himself, asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?”

30

Jesus answered,

“A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who both stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead.

31

By chance a certain priest was going down that way. When he saw him, he passed by on the other side.

32

In the same way a Levite also, when he came to the place, and saw him, passed by on the other side.

33

But a certain Samaritan, as he traveled, came where he was. When he saw him, he was moved with compassion,

34

came to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. He set him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him.

35

On the next day, when he departed, he took out two denarii, gave them to the host, and said to him, ‘Take care of him. Whatever you spend beyond that, I will repay you when I return.’

36

Now which of these three do you think seemed to be a neighbor to him who fell among the robbers?”

37

He said, “He who showed mercy on him.”

Then Jesus said to him,

“Go and do likewise.”

38

As they went on their way, he entered into a certain village, and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house.

39

She had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus’ feet, and heard his word.

40

But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she came up to him, and said, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister left me to serve alone? Ask her therefore to help me.”

41

Jesus answered her,

“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things,

42

but one thing is needed. Mary has chosen the good part, which will not be taken away from her.”

1 Corinthians 6

1

Dare any of you, having a matter against his neighbor, go to law before the unrighteous, and not before the saints?

2

Don’t you know that the saints will judge the world? And if the world is judged by you, are you unworthy to judge the smallest matters?

3

Don’t you know that we will judge angels? How much more, things that pertain to this life?

4

If then you have to judge things pertaining to this life, do you set them to judge who are of no account in the assembly?

5

I say this to move you to shame. Isn’t there even one wise man among you who would be able to decide between his brothers?

6

But brother goes to law with brother, and that before unbelievers!

7

Therefore it is already altogether a defect in you, that you have lawsuits one with another. Why not rather be wronged? Why not rather be defrauded?

8

No, but you yourselves do wrong and defraud, and that against your brothers.

9

Or don’t you know that the unrighteous will not inherit God’s Kingdom? Don’t be deceived. Neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor male prostitutes, nor homosexuals,

10

nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor slanderers, nor extortionists, will inherit God’s Kingdom.

11

Some of you were such, but you were washed. But you were sanctified. But you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and in the Spirit of our God.

12

“All things are lawful for me,” but not all things are expedient. “All things are lawful for me,” but I will not be brought under the power of anything.

13

“Foods for the belly, and the belly for foods,” but God will bring to nothing both it and them. But the body is not for sexual immorality, but for the Lord; and the Lord for the body.

14

Now God raised up the Lord, and will also raise us up by his power.

15

Don’t you know that your bodies are members of Christ? Shall I then take the members of Christ and make them members of a prostitute? May it never be!

16

Or don’t you know that he who is joined to a prostitute is one body? For, “The two”, he says, “will become one flesh.”

17

But he who is joined to the Lord is one spirit.

18

Flee sexual immorality! “Every sin that a man does is outside the body,” but he who commits sexual immorality sins against his own body.

19

Or don’t you know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God? You are not your own,

20

for you were bought with a price. Therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God’s.

Philippians 1

1

Paul and Timothy, servants of Jesus Christ;

To all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi, with the overseers and servants:

2

Grace to you, and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

3

I thank my God whenever I remember you,

4

always in every request of mine on behalf of you all, making my requests with joy,

5

for your partnership in furtherance of the Good News from the first day until now;

6

being confident of this very thing, that he who began a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ.

7

It is even right for me to think this way on behalf of all of you, because I have you in my heart, because both in my bonds and in the defense and confirmation of the Good News, you all are partakers with me of grace.

8

For God is my witness, how I long after all of you in the tender mercies of Christ Jesus.

9

This I pray, that your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge and all discernment,

10

so that you may approve the things that are excellent, that you may be sincere and without offense to the day of Christ,

11

being filled with the fruits of righteousness, which are through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God.

12

Now I desire to have you know, brothers, that the things which happened to me have turned out rather to the progress of the Good News,

13

so that it became evident to the whole palace guard, and to all the rest, that my bonds are in Christ,

14

and that most of the brothers in the Lord, being confident through my bonds, are more abundantly bold to speak the word of God without fear.

15

Some indeed preach Christ even out of envy and strife, and some also out of good will.

16

The former insincerely preach Christ from selfish ambition, thinking that they add affliction to my chains;

17

but the latter out of love, knowing that I am appointed for the defense of the Good News.

18

What does it matter? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed. I rejoice in this, yes, and will rejoice.

19

For I know that this will turn out to my salvation, through your prayers and the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ,

20

according to my earnest expectation and hope, that I will in no way be disappointed, but with all boldness, as always, now also Christ will be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death.

21

For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.

22

But if I live on in the flesh, this will bring fruit from my work; yet I don’t know what I will choose.

23

But I am hard pressed between the two, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better.

24

Yet to remain in the flesh is more needful for your sake.

25

Having this confidence, I know that I will remain, yes, and remain with you all for your progress and joy in the faith,

26

that your boasting may abound in Christ Jesus in me through my presence with you again.

27

Only let your way of life be worthy of the Good News of Christ, that whether I come and see you or am absent, I may hear of your state, that you stand firm in one spirit, with one soul striving for the faith of the Good News;

28

and in nothing frightened by the adversaries, which is for them a proof of destruction, but to you of salvation, and that from God.

29

Because it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ, not only to believe in him, but also to suffer on his behalf,

30

having the same conflict which you saw in me and now hear is in me.

Luke 7

1

After he had finished speaking in the hearing of the people, he entered into Capernaum.

2

A certain centurion’s servant, who was dear to him, was sick and at the point of death.

3

When he heard about Jesus, he sent to him elders of the Jews, asking him to come and save his servant.

4

When they came to Jesus, they begged him earnestly, saying, “He is worthy for you to do this for him,

5

for he loves our nation, and he built our synagogue for us.”

6

Jesus went with them. When he was now not far from the house, the centurion sent friends to him, saying to him, “Lord, don’t trouble yourself, for I am not worthy for you to come under my roof.

7

Therefore I didn’t even think myself worthy to come to you; but say the word, and my servant will be healed.

8

For I also am a man placed under authority, having under myself soldiers. I tell this one, ‘Go!’ and he goes; and to another, ‘Come!’ and he comes; and to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”

9

When Jesus heard these things, he marveled at him, and turned and said to the multitude who followed him,

“I tell you, I have not found such great faith, no, not in Israel.”

10

Those who were sent, returning to the house, found that the servant who had been sick was well.

11

Soon afterwards, he went to a city called Nain. Many of his disciples, along with a great multitude, went with him.

12

Now when he came near to the gate of the city, behold, one who was dead was carried out, the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. Many people of the city were with her.

13

When the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said to her,

“Don’t cry.”

14

He came near and touched the coffin, and the bearers stood still. He said,

“Young man, I tell you, arise!”

15

He who was dead sat up and began to speak. Then he gave him to his mother.

16

Fear took hold of all, and they glorified God, saying, “A great prophet has arisen among us!” and, “God has visited his people!”

17

This report went out concerning him in the whole of Judea, and in all the surrounding region.

18

The disciples of John told him about all these things.

19

John, calling to himself two of his disciples, sent them to Jesus, saying, “Are you the one who is coming, or should we look for another?”

20

When the men had come to him, they said, “John the Baptizer has sent us to you, saying, ‘Are you he who comes, or should we look for another?’ ”

21

In that hour he cured many of diseases and plagues and evil spirits; and to many who were blind he gave sight.

22

Jesus answered them,

“Go and tell John the things which you have seen and heard: that the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them.

23

Blessed is he who finds no occasion for stumbling in me.”

24

When John’s messengers had departed, he began to tell the multitudes about John,

“What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken by the wind?

25

But what did you go out to see? A man clothed in soft clothing? Behold, those who are gorgeously dressed, and live delicately, are in kings’ courts.

26

But what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and much more than a prophet.

27

This is he of whom it is written,

‘Behold, I send my messenger before your face,

who will prepare your way before you.’

28

“For I tell you, among those who are born of women there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptizer, yet he who is least in God’s Kingdom is greater than he.”

29

When all the people and the tax collectors heard this, they declared God to be just, having been baptized with John’s baptism.

30

But the Pharisees and the lawyers rejected the counsel of God, not being baptized by him themselves.

31

“To what then should I compare the people of this generation? What are they like?

32

They are like children who sit in the marketplace, and call to one another, saying, ‘We piped to you, and you didn’t dance. We mourned, and you didn’t weep.’

33

For John the Baptizer came neither eating bread nor drinking wine, and you say, ‘He has a demon.’

34

The Son of Man has come eating and drinking, and you say, ‘Behold, a gluttonous man, and a drunkard; a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’

35

Wisdom is justified by all her children.”

36

One of the Pharisees invited him to eat with him. He entered into the Pharisee’s house, and sat at the table.

37

Behold, a woman in the city who was a sinner, when she knew that he was reclining in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment.

38

Standing behind at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears, and she wiped them with the hair of her head, kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.

39

Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, “This man, if he were a prophet, would have perceived who and what kind of woman this is who touches him, that she is a sinner.”

40

Jesus answered him,

“Simon, I have something to tell you.”

He said, “Teacher, say on.”

41

“A certain lender had two debtors. The one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty.

42

When they couldn’t pay, he forgave them both. Which of them therefore will love him most?”

43

Simon answered, “He, I suppose, to whom he forgave the most.”

He said to him,

“You have judged correctly.”

44

Turning to the woman, he said to Simon,

“Do you see this woman? I entered into your house, and you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head.

45

You gave me no kiss, but she, since the time I came in, has not ceased to kiss my feet.

46

You didn’t anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment.

47

Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. But one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.”

48

He said to her,

“Your sins are forgiven.”

49

Those who sat at the table with him began to say to themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?”

50

He said to the woman,

“Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”

Genesis 8

1

God remembered Noah, all the animals, and all the livestock that were with him in the ship; and God made a wind to pass over the earth. The waters subsided.

2

The deep’s fountains and the sky’s windows were also stopped, and the rain from the sky was restrained.

3

The waters continually receded from the earth. After the end of one hundred fifty days the waters receded.

4

The ship rested in the seventh month, on the seventeenth day of the month, on Ararat’s mountains.

5

The waters receded continually until the tenth month. In the tenth month, on the first day of the month, the tops of the mountains were visible.

6

At the end of forty days, Noah opened the window of the ship which he had made,

7

and he sent out a raven. It went back and forth, until the waters were dried up from the earth.

8

He himself sent out a dove to see if the waters were abated from the surface of the ground,

9

but the dove found no place to rest her foot, and she returned into the ship to him, for the waters were on the surface of the whole earth. He put out his hand, and took her, and brought her to him into the ship.

10

He waited yet another seven days; and again he sent the dove out of the ship.

11

The dove came back to him at evening and, behold, in her mouth was a freshly plucked olive leaf. So Noah knew that the waters were abated from the earth.

12

He waited yet another seven days, and sent out the dove; and she didn’t return to him any more.

13

In the six hundred first year, in the first month, the first day of the month, the waters were dried up from the earth. Noah removed the covering of the ship, and looked. He saw that the surface of the ground was dry.

14

In the second month, on the twenty-seventh day of the month, the earth was dry.

15

God spoke to Noah, saying,

16

“Go out of the ship, you, your wife, your sons, and your sons’ wives with you.

17

Bring out with you every living thing that is with you of all flesh, including birds, livestock, and every creeping thing that creeps on the earth, that they may breed abundantly in the earth, and be fruitful, and multiply on the earth.”

18

Noah went out, with his sons, his wife, and his sons’ wives with him.

19

Every animal, every creeping thing, and every bird, whatever moves on the earth, after their families, went out of the ship.

20

Noah built an altar to Yahweh, and took of every clean animal, and of every clean bird, and offered burnt offerings on the altar.

21

Yahweh smelled the pleasant aroma. Yahweh said in his heart, “I will not again curse the ground any more for man’s sake because the imagination of man’s heart is evil from his youth. I will never again strike every living thing, as I have done.

22

While the earth remains, seed time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night will not cease.”

Luke 18

1

He also spoke a parable to them that they must always pray, and not give up,

2

saying,

“There was a judge in a certain city who didn’t fear God, and didn’t respect man.

3

A widow was in that city, and she often came to him, saying, ‘Defend me from my adversary!’

4

He wouldn’t for a while, but afterward he said to himself, ‘Though I neither fear God, nor respect man,

5

yet because this widow bothers me, I will defend her, or else she will wear me out by her continual coming.’ ”

6

The Lord said,

“Listen to what the unrighteous judge says.

7

Won’t God avenge his chosen ones who are crying out to him day and night, and yet he exercises patience with them?

8

I tell you that he will avenge them quickly. Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?”

9

He also spoke this parable to certain people who were convinced of their own righteousness, and who despised all others.

10

“Two men went up into the temple to pray; one was a Pharisee, and the other was a tax collector.

11

The Pharisee stood and prayed to himself like this: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of men, extortionists, unrighteous, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.

12

I fast twice a week. I give tithes of all that I get.’

13

But the tax collector, standing far away, wouldn’t even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’

14

I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

15

They were also bringing their babies to him, that he might touch them. But when the disciples saw it, they rebuked them.

16

Jesus summoned them, saying,

“Allow the little children to come to me, and don’t hinder them, for God’s Kingdom belongs to such as these.

17

Most certainly, I tell you, whoever doesn’t receive God’s Kingdom like a little child, he will in no way enter into it.”

18

A certain ruler asked him, saying, “Good Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?”

19

Jesus asked him,

“Why do you call me good? No one is good, except one: God.

20

You know the commandments: ‘Don’t commit adultery,’ ‘Don’t murder,’ ‘Don’t steal,’ ‘Don’t give false testimony,’ ‘Honor your father and your mother.’ ”

21

He said, “I have observed all these things from my youth up.”

22

When Jesus heard these things, he said to him,

“You still lack one thing. Sell all that you have, and distribute it to the poor. Then you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”

23

But when he heard these things, he became very sad, for he was very rich.

24

Jesus, seeing that he became very sad, said,

“How hard it is for those who have riches to enter into God’s Kingdom!

25

For it is easier for a camel to enter in through a needle’s eye than for a rich man to enter into God’s Kingdom.”

26

Those who heard it said, “Then who can be saved?”

27

But he said,

“The things which are impossible with men are possible with God.”

28

Peter said, “Look, we have left everything and followed you.”

29

He said to them,

“Most certainly I tell you, there is no one who has left house, or wife, or brothers, or parents, or children, for God’s Kingdom’s sake,

30

who will not receive many times more in this time, and in the world to come, eternal life.”

31

He took the twelve aside, and said to them,

“Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and all the things that are written through the prophets concerning the Son of Man will be completed.

32

For he will be delivered up to the Gentiles, will be mocked, treated shamefully, and spit on.

33

They will scourge and kill him. On the third day, he will rise again.”

34

They understood none of these things. This saying was hidden from them, and they didn’t understand the things that were said.

35

As he came near Jericho, a certain blind man sat by the road, begging.

36

Hearing a multitude going by, he asked what this meant.

37

They told him that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by.

38

He cried out, “Jesus, you son of David, have mercy on me!”

39

Those who led the way rebuked him, that he should be quiet; but he cried out all the more, “You son of David, have mercy on me!”

40

Standing still, Jesus commanded him to be brought to him. When he had come near, he asked him,

41

“What do you want me to do?”

He said, “Lord, that I may see again.”

42

Jesus said to him,

“Receive your sight. Your faith has healed you.”

43

Immediately he received his sight and followed him, glorifying God. All the people, when they saw it, praised God.

Psalms 17

A Prayer by David.

1

Hear, Yahweh, my righteous plea.

Give ear to my prayer that doesn’t go out of deceitful lips.

2

Let my sentence come out of your presence.

Let your eyes look on equity.

3

You have proved my heart.

You have visited me in the night.

You have tried me, and found nothing.

I have resolved that my mouth shall not disobey.

4

As for the deeds of men, by the word of your lips,

I have kept myself from the ways of the violent.

5

My steps have held fast to your paths.

My feet have not slipped.

6

I have called on you, for you will answer me, God.

Turn your ear to me.

Hear my speech.

7

Show your marvelous loving kindness,

you who save those who take refuge by your right hand from their enemies.

8

Keep me as the apple of your eye.

Hide me under the shadow of your wings,

9

from the wicked who oppress me,

my deadly enemies, who surround me.

10

They close up their callous hearts.

With their mouth they speak proudly.

11

They have now surrounded us in our steps.

They set their eyes to cast us down to the earth.

12

He is like a lion that is greedy of his prey,

as it were a young lion lurking in secret places.

13

Arise, Yahweh, confront him.

Cast him down.

Deliver my soul from the wicked by your sword,

14

from men by your hand, Yahweh,

from men of the world, whose portion is in this life.

You fill the belly of your cherished ones.

Your sons have plenty,

and they store up wealth for their children.

15

As for me, I shall see your face in righteousness.

I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with seeing your form.

Song of Solomon 2

Beloved

1

I am a rose of Sharon,

a lily of the valleys.

Lover

2

As a lily among thorns,

so is my love among the daughters.

Beloved

3

As the apple tree among the trees of the wood,

so is my beloved among the sons.

I sat down under his shadow with great delight,

his fruit was sweet to my taste.

4

He brought me to the banquet hall.

His banner over me is love.

5

Strengthen me with raisins,

refresh me with apples;

for I am faint with love.

6

His left hand is under my head.

His right hand embraces me.

7

I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,

by the roes, or by the hinds of the field,

that you not stir up, nor awaken love,

until it so desires.

8

The voice of my beloved!

Behold, he comes,

leaping on the mountains,

skipping on the hills.

9

My beloved is like a roe or a young deer.

Behold, he stands behind our wall!

He looks in at the windows.

He glances through the lattice.

10

My beloved spoke, and said to me,

“Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.

11

For behold, the winter is past.

The rain is over and gone.

12

The flowers appear on the earth.

The time of the singing has come,

and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

13

The fig tree ripens her green figs.

The vines are in blossom.

They give out their fragrance.

Arise, my love, my beautiful one,

and come away.”

Lover

14

My dove in the clefts of the rock,

in the hiding places of the mountainside,

let me see your face.

Let me hear your voice;

for your voice is sweet and your face is lovely.

15

Catch for us the foxes,

the little foxes that plunder the vineyards;

for our vineyards are in blossom.

Beloved

16

My beloved is mine, and I am his.

He browses among the lilies.

17

Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away,

turn, my beloved,

and be like a roe or a young deer on the mountains of Bether.

The Interior Castle or The Mansions

Footnotes

Castle, Mansions v. ch. iv. I.

Letters of St. Teresa, Vol. ii.

The
French Carmelite nuns in their new translation, Œuvres complètes de Sainte Thérèse, t. vi, Introduction, p. 5,
quoting the Año Teresiano, t. vii ad
7 July, and Father Gracian’s Dilucidario,
as well as his additions to Ribera, show the exact share of Fr. Gracian and Dr.
Velasquez in the preliminaries of this work.

Fuente, Obras de Santa Teresa de Jesus. Edit. 1881, Vol. vi, p. 278.

Ibid. p. 178. A somewhat similar incident is reported by Mother
Anne of the Incarnation (Ibid. p.
213), but it appears to be wrongly brought into connection with the composition
of the Castle. The nun in question
had belonged to the convent of St. Joseph at Segovia at an earlier period, but
there is no evidence that St. Teresa visited this place in the course of the
six months during which she composed this work. The Bollandists, indeed,
maintain that it was commenced at Toledo, continued at Segovia and completed at
Avila (n. 1541), but their sole authority for including Segovia is the passage
in question, which, however, must refer to some other work of the Saint. The
sister, passing St. Teresa’s door, saw her writing, her face being lit up as by
a bright light. She wrote very fast without making any corrections. After an
hour, it being about midnight, she ceased and the light disappeared. The Saint
then knelt down and remained in prayer for three hours, after which she went to
sleep.

Fuente,
p. 223.

Ibid. p. 255.

Autograph,
fol. cx.

December
7, 1577. Letters Vol. II.

Jan. 14,
1580. Letters Vol. IV:

Fuente,
Obras. l.c. p. 275.

l.c. p. 217.

Ibid. p. 227.

Fuente,
Obras. p. 190.

Autograph.
fol. 1.

See
Life, ch. xviii. 20. Mansions v. ch. i. 9. The ignorance of
the priest who had told her that God was only present by His grace, made a
lasting impression on St. Teresa. She was first undeceived by a Dominican.

Fuente; pp.
131-133.

l.c. 184.

Allusion to the famous Mystical Theology attributed to Dionysius the Areopagite, and long
considered the chief authority on this subject.

Fuente, pp. 330-332.

l.c. p. 334. These testimonies could be easily multiplied.

Way of Perf. ch. xx. 1

S. Theol.
2da 2dæ, qq. 171-184.

Bollandists,
Acta, n. 1495. See also Impressions
in Spain. By Lady Herbert. London, 1867, p, 171.

The first translation is to
be found in the Works of the Holy Mother
St. Teresa of Jesus (third part). Printed in the year MDCLXXV, pp. 137-286.
It bears the title: The Interiour Castle:
or, Mansions. As to the authors of this translation—Abraham Woodhead and
another, whose name is not known—see my book Carmel in England, p. 342, note. It is stated there that the third
part, containing the Way of Perfection
and the Castle, has no title-page.
This is true with regard to the copy I had before me when writing that book.
The one I have now is more complete.

The
second translation, by the Rev. John Dalton, appeared in 1852 and has been
repeatedly reprinted. It was dedicated to Bishop Ullathorne.

Of
foreign translations it will be sufficient to mention the one by Cyprien de la
Nativité, in Œuvres de la Sainte Mère
Térèse de Jésus, Paris, 1657, and the new one in
Œuvres already mentioned.

The present
translation ought to dispose of the reservations expressed by an able critic in
his otherwise valuable appreciation of the works of the Saint. See Santa Teresa, by the late Alexander
Whyte, D.D. London, 1898, p. 32.

Criticisms
which have appeared in various papers, or have been privately conveyed, have
been gratefully received and acted upon in the second and the present
edition.

’I
am always suffering from my head.’ Letter of June 28, 1577. Letters. VOL. II.

Way of Perfection, ch. xxviii, 9.

In
her Life St. Teresa likened God to a
diamond (ch. xl, 14); and elsewhere (ch. xi, 10) the soul to a garden wherein
our Lord takes His delight.

Way of Perf. ch. xxviii.

St.
John of the Cross on the words of his stanza: ‘In the inner cellar of my
Beloved have I drunk.’ ‘Here the soul speaks of that sovereign grace of God in
taking it into the house of His love, which is the union or transformation of
love in God . . . The cellar is the highest degree of love to which the soul
can attain in this life, and is therefore said to be the inner. It follows from
this that there are other cellars not so interior; that is, the degrees of love
by which souls reach to this, the last. These cellars are seven in number, and
the soul has entered them all when it has in perfection the seven gifts of the
Holy Ghost, so far as it is possible for it. . . . Many souls reach and enter
the first cellar, each according to the perfection of its love, but the last
and inmost cellar is entered by few in this world, because therein is wrought
the perfect union with God, the union of the spiritual marriage.’ A Spiritual Canticle, stanza xxvi. 1-3.
Concept. ch. vi. (Minor Works of St.
Teresa.)

Way of Perf. ch. xxi. 6; xxix. 4.

Many
an ancient castle was provided with a bear-garden where rare animals were kept
for the amusement of the inhabitants. This may have supplied the material for
St. Teresa’s comparison.

Life, ch. xxxviii. 31; ch. xl. 15.

Way of Perf. ch. xxviii. 9.

In this as in most other cases when the Saint
speaks of ‘a person she knows,’ she means herself. Life, ch. xl, 15.

cxxvi. 1:
’Nisi Dominus custodierit civitatem, frustra vigilat qui custodit eam.’

Life, ch. xxxviii. 33; ch. xl. 15, 16.

Life, ch. x. 2 sqq. Constitut. 2, 6.

Way of Perf.. ch. xxviii. 1.

The palmito
here referred to is not a palm, but a shrub about four feet high and very dense
with leaves, resembling palm leaves. The poorer classes and principally
children dig it up by the roots, which they peel of its many layers until a
sort of kernel is disclosed, which is eaten, not without relish, and is
somewhat like a filbert in taste. See St. John of the Cross, Accent of Mount
Carmel, bk. ii. ch, xiv, 3.

Supra,
§ 3.

Life, ch. viii. 6, x. 4, xxiii. 3-5. Way of Perf. ch. xxxix. 1.

Life ch. xiii. 23. Way of Perf. ch. x. 4. Castle,
M. iii. ch. ii. 8. Concep. ch. ii.
20. Const. 21.

Life ch. xxxi. 23.

No
doubt the Saint often used this excellent comparison in her verbal
instructions, but it occurs nowhere else in her writings.

Way of Perf. ch. x. 5; xxxix. 4; Rel. iii. 12.

The
Saint must frequently have spoken on the subject, but she never treated it more
fully than in this place. Way of Perf.
ch. xii. 7. Life, ch. xiii. 11, 14 sqq. Visitation of convents.

Way of Perfection, ch. ii. 3. Visit.
20-22, 34, 36.

’It
is terrible to think what harm a Prioress can do! For although the Sisters
witness things which scandalize them (of which there are plenty here!), yet
they think it would be sinning against obedience to see any harm in them.’
(Letter to Father Gracian, written at Malagon at the beginning of December,
5579. Letters, Vol. III.)

Life, ch. xi-xiii. Way of Perf. ch. xx.-xxix.

(Imitation, bk. 1. ch. xxiii. 7). The
edition of the Imitation known to St.
Teresa under the title of Contemptus
Mundi was translated by Luis de Granada, printed at Seville in 1536, at
Lisbon in 1542, and at Alcalá in 1548. See Life,
ch. xxxix. 21, note.

Life, ch. vii. 33-37; xvi. 1 2; XXX. 6. Way of Perfection, ch. vi. 1; Vii. 4.

Life, ch. xi 16.

Life, ch. xii. 5.

Way of Perf. ch. xvii. 6; xxiii. 1.

Way of Perf. ch. xvi. 2. Found. ch. v. 2, 3. Life, ch. iv. II; xi. 20.

A drug
greatly in vogue until recent times. It was composed of all the essences
supposed to contain life-giving and life-preserving qualities of animals and
plants.

Life, ch. xi. and xix. 8. Way of Perfection, ch. xxiii. 3.

Way of Perf. ch. xix. 3.

Way of Perf. ch. xxiii. 3.

Ps.
cxi: 1. ‘Beatus vir qui timet Dominum.’

These
last words, in the margin, but in the handwriting of the Saint, were scored
through by one of the censors, but Fr. Luis de Leon wrote underneath, (as he
did in other cases) ‘Nothing to be crossed out.’

St.
Teresa wrote ‘Solomon’; Father Gracian corrected ‘Absalom,’ and Fr. Luis de
Leon restored the original text.

Proverbially,
like ‘having too many irons in the fire.’

Rel. ix. 15.

See letter concerning
Francisco de Salcedo. Nov. 1576. Vol. II.

Way of Perf. ch, xxxviii. 7.

Way of Perf. ch, xxxviii, 10. Concep. ch. ii. 11, 12. Life, xi. 3.

Way of Perf.. ch. xxxviii. 12.

St. Teresa very probably had
in her mind her journey, to make a foundation at Seville, when the boat, which
was crossing the Guadalquivir, narrowly escaped being carried down the river by
the current. Found. ch. xxiv, 6

Life, ch. xii. 2. Rel.
vii. 3.

Life. ch. xiii. 29.

Rel. vii. 18.

Way of Perf. ch. vii. 6. Castle, M. I. ch. ii. 20, 21.

First
Mansions, ch. i. 1.

There are two kinds of
contemplation: acquired or natural, and infused or supernatural. In their
widest sense, including many remarkable phenomena of Natural religion, and, of
course, the most wonderful manifestations recorded in the Old Testament, they
form the system called Mysticism and are the proper object of Mystical
theology. Natural or acquired contemplation is based upon an idealistic turn of
mind which enables the soul to gaze upon the Godhead (simple gaze, as St.
Teresa calls it) without approaching Him by the laborious process of reasoning,
and in so doing embraces Him with its affective powers; like a person who,
devoid of technical skill, takes in and is enamoured by, the beauty of a
painting. Infused contemplation is the highest act of the Gifts of the Holy
Ghost of Knowledge and Wisdom. It is often impossible, nor is it always
essential, to determine where acquired contemplation ends and infused
contemplation begins. But it should be borne in mind that both the one and the
other are operations and not merely a passive state or mere fruition. Even the
highest form of contemplation, the Beatific Vision, is a supernatural act of
the soul, an operation of unending duration. A ship moved by a gentle breeze is
rightly said to be actually sailing though the rowers are at rest.

Life, ch. xii. 11.

Life, ch. xvii. 7.

Philippus
a SS. Trinitate, Summa Tleologiæ Mysticæ,
pars iii. tract. i. disc. iii. art. 2. Life,
ch. xv. 11, xxii. 22, 23. Way of Perf.
ch. xvi. 4, xli. 2. Concep. ch. v. 3.

Way of Perf., ch. xix. 8. Castle, M. iv. ch. ii. 4. The first
three mansions of the Interior Castle correspond with the ‘first water,’ or the
prayer of Meditation, explained in ch. xi-xiii. of the Life; the fourth
mansion, or the prayer of Quiet, with the ‘second water,’ Life, ch. xiv. and
xv.; the fifth mansion, or the prayer of Union, with the ‘third water,’ Life,
ch. xvi. and xvii.; and the sixth mansion, ecstasy, etc., with the ‘fourth
water,’ Life, ch. xviii.-xxi.

Life, ch. iii. 1.

Life, ch. xii. 2-4..

Found. ch. v. 2. Way of Perf. ch. xxxi. 6, 12. Life,
ch. xv, 16, ch. XXX. 19.

Life,
ch. xv. 9, 10.

Second
Relation addressed to Fr. Rodrigo Alvarez.

Way of Perf. ch. xxxiii. 8. Life,
ch. xxi. S. Rel. ii. 12.

Way of Perf. ch. xvii. 2.

Way of Perf. ch, xxxi. 9.

’A clear
description of an attack of hysteria with the significant remark that she
herself had never experienced anything of the kind’. (Dr. Goix, quoted by P. Grégoire, La prétendue hystérie de Sainte Thérèse,
Lyon, Vitte, 1895, p. 53.)

Way of Perf. ch. xix. 5; also St. John
of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel,
bk. ii, ch. xiv, 2, and xxi. 3.

Life,
ch. x. 2.

Life, ch. xiv. 9. Way of Perf. ch. xxviii. 11.

Life, ch. xiv. 3: ‘The faculties are not
lost, neither are they asleep; the will alone is occupied in such a way that
without knowing how it has become a captive it gives a simple consent to become
the prisoner of God.’ Ibid. § 4: ‘The
other two faculties help the will that it may render itself capable of the
fruition of so great a good; nevertheless, it occasionally happens even when
the will is in union that they hinder it very much.’ See also Way of Perf. ch. xxxi. 8.

Way of Perf. ch. xvi. i. Life, ch. xxii. 16.

Philippus a SS. Trinitate, l.c. art. 3.

Life, ch. xiv. 2. The Saint says in the second chapter of this
mansion, § 5, and also in letters dated Dec. 7, 1577 (Vol. II) and Jan. 14,
1580, that when writing the Interior
Castle she had more experience in spiritual things than when she composed
her former works. This is fully borne out by the present chapter. In the
corresponding part of her Life she
practically confounded the prayer of recollection with the prayer of quiet (the
second state of the soul). Likewise, in the Way
of Perfection, ch. xxviii., she speaks of but one kind of prayer of
recollection and then passes on to the prayer of quiet. Here, however, she
mentions a second form of the prayer of recollection. See Philippus a SS.
Trinitate, pars iii. tract. i, disc. iii. art. 1, ‘De oratione recollectionis’
(page 81 of the third vol. of the edition of 1874); ‘de secundo modo
recollectionis’ (ibid. p. 82.); and
art. 2: ‘De oratione quietis’ (ibid.
p. 84.) Antonius a Spiritu Sancto, Direct.
Mystic. tract. iv. n. 78: ‘Duo sunt hujus recollectionis modi, primus quidem
activus reference to the Way of
Perfection, l.c., secundus autem
passivus, reference to this chapter of the Fourth Mansion.’ The former is not
supernatural, in the sense that with special grace from above it can be
acquired; the second is altogether supernatural and more like gratuitous grace
(ibid. no. 80 and 81). On the meaning
of ‘Solitude,’ ‘Silence,’ etc., see Anton. a Sp. S. l.c., tract. i, n. 78-82.

The edition of Burgos (vol.
iv, P. 59) refers appropriately to the following passage in the Tercer Abecedario (See Life, ch. iv, 8) by the Franciscan friar
Francisco de Osuna, a work which exercised a profound influence on St. Teresa:
’Entering within oneself; and rising above oneself, are the two principal
points in this exercise, those which, above all others, one ought to strive
after, and which give the highest satisfaction to the soul. There is less
labour in entering within oneself than in rising above oneself and therefore it
appears to me that when the soul is ready and fit for either, you ought to do
the former, because the other will follow without any effort, and will be all
the more pure and spiritual; however, follow what course your soul prefers as
this will bring you more grace and benefit,’ (Tr. ix, ch, viii).

Some
editors of the Interior Castle think
that St. Teresa refers to the following passage taken from the Confessions of St. Augustine: ‘Too late
have I loved Thee, O Beauty, ever ancient yet ever new! too late have I loved
Thee! And behold, Thou wert within me and I abroad, and there I searched for
Thee, and, deformed as I was, I pursued the beauties that Thou hast made. Thou
wert with me, but I was not with Thee. Those things kept me far from Thee, which,
unless they were in Thee, could have had no being’ (St. Augustine’s Confessions, bk. x, ch. xxvii.). The Confessions of St. Augustine were first
translated into Spanish by Sebastian Toscano, a Portuguese Augustinian. This
edition, which was published at Salamanca in 1554, was the one used by St.
Teresa. However, it is more probable that here and elsewhere (Life, ch. xli.
10; Way of Perf. ch. xxviii. 2) St.
Teresa quotes a passage which occurs in a pious book entitled Soliloquia, and erroneously attributed
to St. Augustine: ‘I have gone about the streets and the broad ways of the city
of this world seeking Thee, but have not found Thee for I was wrong in seeking
without for what was within.’ (ch. xxxi.) This treatise which is also quoted by
St. John of the Cross, Spiritual Canticle,
stanza i. 7, Ascent of Mount Carmel,
bk. i. ch. v. 1, appeared in a Spanish translation at Valladolid in 1515, at
Medina del Campo in 1553, and at Toledo in 1565.

Life, ch. xiv. 7, 8; 20.

St.
Teresa read this in the Tercer Abecedario
of Francisco de Osuna (tr. vi, ch, iv): ‘This exercise concentrates the senses
of man in the interior of the heart where dwells ‘the daughter of the king’;
that is, the Catholic soul; thus recollected, man may well be compared to the
tortoise or sea-urchin which rolls itself up and withdraws within itself,
disregarding everything outside.’

Life. ch, xii. 8.

Life, ch. xiv, 10.

A Golden Treatise of Mental Prayer by
St. Peter of Alcantara, translated by Rev. G. F. Bullock M.A. and edited by
Rev. George Seymour Hollings S.S.J.E. London, Mowbray, 1905, p. 117.

Sap. viii. i: ‘Disponit omnia suaviter.’

Life, ch. xv. i.

’The
whole of the time in which our Lord communicates the simple, loving general
attention of which I made mention before, or when the soul, assisted by grace,
is established in that state, we must contrive to keep the understanding in
repose, undisturbed by the intrusion of forms, figures, or particular
knowledge, unless it were slightly and for an instant, and that with sweetness
of love, to enkindle our souls the more. At other times, however, in all our
acts of devotion and good works, we must make use of good recollections and
meditations, so that we may feel an increase of profit and devotion; most
especially applying ourselves to the life, passion, and death of Jesus Christ,
our Lord, that our life and conduct may be an imitation of His.’ (St. John of
the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel,
bk. ii. ch. xxxii. 7.)

Life, ch. xv. 2.

Life, ch. xxiv. 2.

Way of Perf. ch. xvi. 5. Castle, M. v. ch. i, 2, 3; ii. 4, 5; iii.
2, 6, 12.

Way of Perf. ch. xxxi. 7. Concept. ch. iv. 6.

Way of Perf. ch. xl. 3.

Life,
ch. xx. 31.

Found. ch. vi.

Found. ch. vi. 15.

Life ch. xviii. 16, 17.

Letter of Oct. 23, 1 376. Vol. II.

Found. ch. viii. 7-8.

Found. ch. iv. 8.

Maneant
singuli in cellulis suis, vel juxta eas, die ac nocte in lege Domini meditantes
et in orationibus vigilantes.’ (Carmelite
Rule).

St.
Matt, xiii. 46.

’The
reason why there are so few contemplatives is that there are so few persons who
wholly withdraw themselves from transitory and created things’ (Imitation, bk. iii. ch. xxxi. 1). See
also Way of Perf. ch. xvi. 5. Life, ch.
xi. 2-4; xxii. 18, 19.

Way of Perf. ch. xxv. 1. Life, ch. xvi. Rel. I. i; viii. 7.

Life, ch. xvii. 2.

According
to St. Thomas, angels—whether good or bad—do not know the thoughts of man
unless they become manifest by some exterior sign. S. Theol. I. q. lvii. art.
4. See also St. John of the Cross, Dark
Night, bk. II, ch. xxiii. 2, 5.

Mansion
iv. ch. i, 5.

Life, ch. viii. 15.

Life, ch. xviii. 16.

Life, ch. xx. 13, 24.

Philippus a SS. Trinitate, l.c., pars iii. tr. i. disc. iv. art, 2,
where he adds some further signs. Anton. a Sp. S., l.c., tract. i. no. 116 and 117.

’The soul
does not see the good Master who teaches it, although clearly conscious of His
presence.’ (Concept. ch. iv. 3.)

’There
are three ways in which God is present in the soul. The first is His presence
in essence, not in holy souls only, but in wretched and sinful souls as well,
and also in all created things; for it is by this presence that He gives life
and being, and were it withdrawn at once all things would return to nothing.
This presence never fails in the soul. The second is His presence by grace,
whereby He dwells in the soul, pleased and satisfied with it. This presence is
not in all souls; for those who fall into mortal sin lose it, and no soul can
know in a natural way whether it has it or not. The third is His presence by
spiritual affection. God is wont to show His presence in many devout souls in
divers ways, in refreshment, joy and gladness.’ (St. John of the Cross, Spiritual Canticle, stanza xi. 2.)

’In
every soul, even that of the greatest sinner in the world, God dwells and is
substantially present. This way of union or presence of God, in the order of
nature, subsists between Him and all His creatures; by this He preserves them
in being, and if He withdraws it they immediately perish and cease to be. And
so, when I speak of the union of the soul with God, I do not mean this
substantial presence which is in every creature, but that union and
transformation of the soul in God by love which is only then accomplished when
there subsists the likeness which love begets.’ (St. John of the Cross, Ascent, bk. ii. ch. v. 3.)

Fr.
Gracian, Peregrinacion de Anastasio
(Burgos, 1905), p. 171.

Life, ch. xviii. 20. Rel. ix. 17; xi. 8. St. Teresa was so
deeply impressed by the ignorance of this priest that she very frequently
referred to it.

Cant. iii. 2: ‘Per vicos et plateas quæram quem diligit anima mea.’

St.
John, xx. 19.

Way of Perf. ch. xxv. 3.

Way of Perf. ch. xxxi. i 1.

St. Teresa
must have been thinking of this simile when she chose ‘butterflies’ as the
pseudonym for her nuns in her letters at the time when she was obliged to be
cautious on account of the troubles of the Reform.

Life, ch. xviii. 16.

Life,
ch. xviii. 5-7.

Rel. ix, 11.

Way of Perf. ch. xviii. 1-4. Castle,
M. vi ch. i. 3, sqq. M. vii. ch. iv.
7.

Fifth Mansions, ch. i. 10.

Cant. ii. 4. ‘Introduxit me in cellam vinariam, ordinavit in me
caritatem.’

This friend
is, of course, St. Teresa herself. See Life,
ch. xiii. 14; xxxii. 9. Way of Perf.
ch. i. 3. Castle, M. vii. ch. i. 5,
6. Excl. x. 9.

Life, ch. vii. 18. Way of
Perf. xli. 8.

Life.
ch, vii. 21.

Found. ch. v. 10. ‘These shall not
attain to the true liberty of a pure heart, nor to the grace of a delightful
familiarity with Me, unless they first resign themselves and offer themselves a
daily sacrifice to Me: for without this, divine union neither is nor will be
obtained.’ (Imitation, book iii. ch. xxxvii. 4.)

Philippus a
SS. Trinitate, l.c., p. iii. tr. i,
disc. ii. art. 4.

Fourth
Mansions, ch. i. 5. Fifth Mansions, ch. i. 7.

Way of Perf. ch. xvii. 2.

Jonas iv. 6, 7: ‘And the
Lord God prepared an ivy, and it came up over the head of Jonas, to be a shadow
over his head, and to cover him, for he was fatigued; and Jonas was exceeding
glad of the ivy. But God prepared a worm, when the morning arose on the
following day: and it struck the ivy and it withered.’

Way of Perf. ch. ix. i, 2.

Way of Perf. ch. xviii. 5.

Way of Perf. ch. vii. 4.

Way of Perf. ch. iv. 3; vii. 4.

Compare: ‘habebit fructum in
respectione animarum sanctarum’ (Breviar.
Rom. Ant. ad Laudes de Com. Virg.); ‘quasi apis argumentosa Domino
deservisti’ (Ibid. Feast of St.
Cæcilia.)

Life,
ch. xviii.

Way of Perf. ch. xxxi. 10.

Phil.
a SS. Trinit. l.c. p. iii. tract. i.
disc. ii. art. 2.

Contrast
with this paragraph what the Saint says in her Life, ch. xix. § 8.

Life, ch, xxxvi. 26; xxxix. 14. Found.
ch. i. 1-4.

Way of
Perf. ch. i, 2; xiii. 3. Found.
ch. i. 3.

Life, ch. xix. 9.

Life, ch. xix. 7.

Rel. ix. 19.

Castle, M. v. ch. i. 9. Life,
ch. xxviii. 5.

Life, ch. xl. 28. sqq.

The
Saint went through all this herself; every detail is taken from her own
experience. See Life, ch. xxv. 20;
xxviii. 20-24; xxx. 6; xxiii. 2. Anton. a Sp. S. l.c. tract, ii. n. 268.

Life, ch. xxviii. 19.

Rel. ii. 4.

Anton. a Sp. S. l.c. ii. n. 272. Way of Perf. ch. xv. i; xvii. 4. Found. ch. xxvii. 19, 20. Life,
ch. xix. 12; xxxi. 13-17, 25.

’Forty
years ago.’ The Saint seems to refer to her first experience in the mystical
life, which took place during her illness in the winter of 1537-38. See Life, ch. iv. 9.

Life, ch. iv. 6; v; vi; vii. 18; xi. 23; XXX. 9.

Ibid. ch. iii. 6, 7.

Life, ch. xiii. 21-27. Way of Perf. ch. v. 1, 2.

Ibid, ch. xxx. 15.

Ibid, ch. xxxviii. 21. Rel. ii. 15.

Life, ch. xxviii. 20 sqq.

Anton. a Sp.
S. l.c. tr. ii. n. 313. On this
subject which is commonly called the passive purgation of the intellect, it
would be advisable to consult some good author such as Philippus a SS.
Trinitate, l.c. part. i. tr. iii.
disc. iii.-v., especially disc. iv. art. 5, 6.

Life, ch. xxv. 21.

Ibid. ch. xxv. 23.

Ibid. ch. xxiv. 3. Way of Perf. ch. xli. 5. Castle,
M. vii. ch. iv. 1.

Excl. xvi. 4.

Life,
ch. xxxi. 27.

Mansion iv. ch. i. Life, ch. xxix. 10-15. Rel. ch. viii. 15.

The saint
first wrote ‘relampago,’ flash of lightning, but afterwards altered it to
’trueno,’ clap of thunder.

Rel. viii. 16. St. John of the Cross, Spiritual Cant. st. i. 22 sqq. Poems
7, 8.

Life, ch. xxix. 18.

Life, ch. xv. 1.

Ibid.
ch. xxix. 17, 18.

Ibid. ch. xv, 6; xviii. 4.; xxi. 9.

Life, ch. xv. 15, 16.

Life,
ch. xxix. 6-10.

Ibid. ch. xv. 12. On the matter treated
by St. Teresa in this chapter, compare St. John of the Cross, Spiritual Canticle, stanza i. (circa finem), stanza ix.; The Living Flame of Love, stanza ii.

Life,
ch. xxiii. 114.

Antonius a
Sp. S. l.c. tr. iii. n. 323. St. John
of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel,
bk. ii. ch. xxvii.

Life, ch. xxv. 13, 18.

Life, ch. xxvi. 6; xxx. 17. Rel.
i. 26.

Life, ch. xxv. 22; xxxiii. 10. Rel. vii. 22. St. John of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel, bk. ii. ch.
xxxi. 1.

Life, ch. xxxv. 7. Rel.
ix. 6. St. John of the Cross, Ascent of
Mount Carmel, bk. iii. ch. ii. 7.

Rel. v. 14.

Life, ch. xxv. 23-25. See also Schram, Instit. theol. myst. 528 schol.; 529 schol. ii. and iii.; 5 3 I
schol. ii.; 5 32 schol. ii. Exterior locutions may proceed direct from God, but
generally are due to the ministry of angels; the same holds good with regard to
the imaginary ones. Intellectual locutions, in which the words are merely
impressed upon the substance of the soul without intervention of the
imagination, can only proceed from God, Who alone is able to act upon the
substance of the soul. See also Life, ch. xxvii. 7 (end), 8, 9, and 10, and the
corresponding chapters in St. John’s Ascent
of Mount Carmel.

Life, ch. xxv. 3, 10. Rel. ii. 17.

Ibid, ch. xxv. 10.

Jonas iv. 1:
’Et afflictus est Jonas afflictione magna et iratus est; et oravit ad Dominum
et dixit: Obsecro, Domine, numquid non hoc est verbum meum cum adhuc essem in
terra mea?’

Life, ch. xxv. 4 (end) and 5 (beginning).

Ibid. ch. xxv. 4 (beginning).

Way of Perf. ch. xxxix. 6. Life, ch. xxvi. 4, 5. St. John of the
Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel, bk.
ii. ch. xxii. 14-18.

Rel. vii. 15.

Infra, ch. viii.

Life, ch. xxvii, 8.

Life, ch. xxv. 6 and 10 (end).

Ibid. ch. xxv. 9, 16.

Ibid. ch. xxv. 4, 6.

Ibid,
ch. xxv. 12 (beginning).

The whole of
this chapter as well as chapter xxv. of the Life
prove clearly that the Saint speaks about herself and that she investigated the
subject with the greatest care.

Life, ch. xxv. 15.

Life, ch. xii. 5: ‘The nearer we draw
unto God the more this virtue (humility) should grow’; xv. 16; xix. 2; xx. 38. Rel. ii. 15; vii. 17; viii. 7, 9. Way of Perf. ch. xvii. 3.

Life, ch. xxv. 21.

Josue x. 12. 13: ‘Tunc
locutus est Josue: . . . sol contra Gabaon ne movearis; steteruntque sol et
luna.’

Life, ch. xxxix. 30.

Castle, M. iv. ch. iii. 11.

Life, ch. xx. passim.

Philippus a
SS. Trinitate, l.c. tr. i. disc. iii.
art. 3.

Rel. ix. 4. Way of Perf. ch. xix. 8.

Philippus a
SS. Trinitate, l.c.

Doña Maria Enriquez, wife of
Ferdinand de Toledo, Duke of Alva. This visit took place in February, 1574, and
lasted two days the Saint being then on her journey from Salamanca to Alva de
Tormes. (Found. ch. xxi.)

Castle,
M. iv. ch. iii. 2.

The Saint wrote here and
elsewhere Memento, and not momenta as is commonly printed. It
refers, of course, to that short interruption at Mass when the priest makes a
Memento of those for whom he intends to pray. Likewise St. Teresa often speaks
of the ‘space of a Credo or an Ave Maria’ always implying a very short
duration.

Life, ch. xx. 18. ‘Like a person who,
having a rope around his neck and being strangled, tries to breathe.’

Life, ch. xx 23, 29. Way of
Perf. ch. xxxii. Rel. viii. 8, 11. ‘The first effect of ecstatic prayer
concerns the body, which remains as if the soul had departed; it grows cold
from a deficiency of natural heat, the eyes close gently, and the other senses
are suspended; and yet a weak body recovers health in this prayer.’ (Anton. a
Spiritu Sancto, Direct. Mystic. tr.
iv. d. 2, § 4, n. 150).

’Digo
para estar in un ser.’

Life, ch. xx. 30.

Castle, M. vii. ch. iii. 4. Way of Perf. ch. xxxviii. 1. Excl. xiv. 3. Life, ch. xl. 27.

Life, ch. xvi. 6. Rel. i. 4.

Ibid. ch. xx. 5, 6.

Life, ch. xxxi. 15. St. John of the
Cross in stanza xiii. 8. of the Spiritual
Canticle, refers to this and the following chapters. ‘This,’ he says, ‘is
an appropriate opportunity for discussing the difference between raptures,
ecstasies, and other elevations and subtle flights of the spirit, to which
spiritual persons are liable; but as my object is to do nothing more than
explain this canticle, I leave the subject for those who are better qualified
than I am. I do this the more readily because our mother, the blessed Teresa of
Jesus, has written admirably on this matter, whose writings I hope to see soon
published,’

Rel. viii. 10, 11. Life, ch. xviii, 8; xx. 3.

Life, ch. xx. 9. St. John of the Cross, Spiritual Canticle, stanzas xiv.-xv. 23 sqq. Philippus a SS. Trinit. l.c. p. iii. tr. i. disc. iii. art. 3.
’This prayer of rapture is superior to the preceding grades of prayer, as also
to the ordinary prayer of union, and leaves much more excellent effects and
operations in many other ways.’ St. Catherine of Siena (Dialogue, ch. lxxix. 1) says: ‘Wherefore, oftentimes, through the
perfect union which the soul has made with Me, she is raised from the earth
almost as if the heavy body became light. But this does not mean that the
heaviness of the body is taken away, but that the union of the soul with Me is
more perfect than the union of the body with the soul; wherefore the strength
of the spirit, united with Me, raises the body from the earth.’ (Transl. by
Algar Thorold.)

Life, ch. xxii. 20.

Castle,
M. iv. ch. ii. 3.

Rel. ix. 8. This happened at Seville in
1575 or 1576.

This
is called ‘lumen prophetiæ’ and is a transient form of the ‘lumen gloriæ.’ See
St. Thomas Aquinas, Sum. theol. 2a
2æ, q. 175, art. 3 ad 2.

The
same thing is related of some Saints while on earth, e.g. St Paul the first hermit and St. Anthony, who greeted each
other by name though neither knew nor had heard of the other.

These words, though
necessary for the context, were only begun, but not completed by St. Teresa.

Life, ch. xx. 32. Castle, M. iv. ch. i. 10.

Compare §§
8-10 with Philippus a SS. Trinitate, l.c.
p. iii. tr. i. disc. iii. art. 3.

’Muchas veces he pensado, si como el sol
estándose en el cielo, que sus rayos tienen tanta fuerza, que no mudándose él
de allí, de presto llegan acá; si el alma y el espíritu (que son una misma
cosa, como le es el soly sus rayos) puede, quedándose ella en su puesto, con la
fuerza de calor que le viene del verdadero Sol de justicia, alguna parte
superior salir sobre sì misma. En fin, yo no sé lo que digo, lo que es verdad
es, que con la presteza que sale la pelota de un arcabuz, cuando le ponen el
fuego, se levanta en lo interior un vuelo (que yo no sé otro nombre que le
poner) que aunque no hace ruido, hace movimento tan claro, que no puede ser
antojo en ninguna manera; y muy fuera de si misma, á todo lo que puede
entender, se le muestran grandes cosas.’

Life, ch. xx. 31. The same distinctions
with respect to divine and diabolical locutions may be found in Life, ch. xxv. 5.

’Dexteram
meam et collum meum cinxit lapidibus pretiosis; tradidit auribus meis
inestimabiles margaritas.’ From the Office of St. Agnes.

This is undoubtedly the
correct rendering of this difficult and obscure passage.

Excl. ii. See poem 4, ‘Cuan triste es, Dios mio’; and the two
versions of ‘Vivir sin vivir en mi.’ (Poems 3 and 4. Minor Works.)

Life, ch. xxv. 18.

Ibid. ch. xxv. 20. Rel. vii. 7.

Ibid. ch. xxvii. 1, 2.

Rel. i. 6.

Life, ch. xxxii. 14; xxxv. 13. Castle, M. vii. ch. iv. 21 . Found. ch. i. 6, 7.

Way of Perf. ch. i.

III Reg. xix. 10.

’When St.
Martin was dying, his brethren said to him: ‘Why, dear Father, will you leave
us? Or to whom can you commit us in our desolation? We know, indeed, that you
desire to be with Christ, but your reward above is safe and will not be diminished
by delay; rather have pity on us whom you are leaving desolate.’ Then Martin,
always pitiful, moved by these lamentations, is said to have burst into tears.
Turning to God, he replied to the mourners around him only by crying: ‘O Lord,
if I am still necessary to Thy people, I do not shrink from toil; Thy will be
done.’ (Sulpitius Severus, Life of St.
Martin, letter 3.)

Way of Perf.. ch. xvii. 4; xix. 6.

Life, ch. xxix. 12.

Compare
with this what we have said in note 1 to the second chapter of the Fourth
Mansions. Rel. ii. 12.

Life, ch. xix. 1-3.

Way of Perf. ch. xix. 6. Life, ch. xviii. 12 sqq.

Philippus
a SS. Trinit. l.c. p. iii. tr. i.
disc. iv. art. 5. Antonius a Sp. S. l.c.
tr. iv. n.156.

Rel. ii. 12.

’He plunged into a large
forest, and there in a loud voice and in French, he made the echoes resound
with the praises of God. Some robbers, attracted by his singing, rushed out
upon him. But the sight of so poor a man destroyed their hopes of booty. They
questioned him, and Francis gave them no answer beyond saying in allegorical
language: ‘I am the herald of the great King!’ The robbers considered
themselves insulted by these words. They threw themselves upon him, beat him
severely, and went off after having thrown him into a ditch full of snow. This
treatment only added fire to the zeal of Francis. He sang his holy canticles
with greater love than before.’ (Rev. Father Léon, Lives of the Saints of the Order of St. Francis, vol. 1, ch, i,)

’St.
Peter of Alcantara, in the jubilation of his soul through the impetuosity of
divine love, was occasionally unable to refrain from singing the divine praises
aloud in a wonderful manner. To do this more freely, he sometimes went into the
woods where the peasants who heard him sing took him for one who was beside
himself.’ (Rev. Alban Butler, Lives of
the Saints.)

Way of Perf. ch. ii. 8; iii. i; viii. 1.

Compare
with this what has been said in the fourth chapter of this Mansion, § 17, note
17.

Melancholia
here as elsewhere means hysteria.

Life, ch. vi. 7.

Excl. vi. 4, 5. Supra, M. v. ch. ii, 5. Poems
2, 3, 4. Minor Works.

Life, ch. xxi, 9. All editions have ‘Peter’. St. Teresa only wrote
’Po’ but the parallel passage proves she meant Pablo, and not Pedro.
See also M. i. ch. i. 5.

Life, ch. xxii. 9-11.

Ibid. ch. xxii. i; xxiii. 18; xxiv. 2.

’Deliberate
forgetfulness and rejection of all knowledge and of form must never be extended
to Christ and His sacred Humanity. Sometimes, indeed, in the height of
contemplation and pure intuition of the Divinity the soul does not remember the
Sacred Humanity, because God raises the mind to this, as it were, confused and
most supernatural knowledge; but for all this, studiously to forget it is by no
means right, for the contemplation of the sacred Humanity and loving meditation
upon it will help us up to all good, and it is by it we shall ascend most
easily to the highest state of union. It is evident at once that, while all
visible and bodily things ought to be forgotten, for they are a hindrance in
our way, He, Who for our salvation became man, is not to be accounted among
them, for He is the truth, the door, and the way, and our guide to all good.’
(St. John of the Cross Ascent of Mount
Carmel, bk. iii. ch. i. 12-14.

Life, ch. xv. 20. St. John of the Cross
treats the subject most carefully. He shows how and when meditation becomes
impossible: Ascent of Mount Carmel,
bk. ii. ch. xii. (circa finem) ch.
xiii. (per totum). Living Flame of Love, stanza iii. 35. Obscure Night, bk. i. ch. x. 8, and bk.
ii. ch. viii. That it should be procured whenever possible: Ibid. bk. i. ch. x. (in fine); that it should be resumed; Ascent of Mount Carmel; bk. ii, ch. xv.

III
Reg. xviii. 30-39.

Continual
sense of the presence of God: Life,
ch. xxvii. 6. Rel. xi. 3: ‘The
intellectual vision of the Three Persons and of the Sacred Humanity seems ever
present.’ Castle, M. vii. ch. iv. 15.

Cant, iii.
3; ‘Num quem diligit anima mea, vidistis?’

’I asked the
earth, and it answered me: ‘I am not He’; and whatsoever it contains confessed
the same. I asked the sea and the depths, and the living, creeping things, and
they answered: ‘We are not thy God, seek above us.’ I asked the heavens, I
asked the moving air; and the whole air with its inhabitants answered:
’Anaximenes was deceived, I am not God.’ I asked the heavens, sun, moon, stars.
’Nor,’ say they, ‘are we the God Whom thou seekest.’ And I replied unto all
things which encompass the door of my flesh: ‘Ye have told me of my God, that
ye are not He; tell me something of Him.’ And they cried out with a loud voice:
’He made us.’ By my thought of them I questioned them, and their beauty gave
their answer.’ (St. Augustine’s
Confessions, bk. x. ch. 6.)

St.
Teresa may have read this in St. Augustine’s Confessions, (see above, p. 78), or in the Soliloquies, a collection of extracts from St. Augustine, St.
Bernard, St. Anselm, etc., which was printed in Latin at Venice in 1512,
translated into Spanish and brought out at Valladolid in 1515, and again at
Medina del Campo in 15 53, and at Toledo in 1565. The words quoted by St.
Teresa occur in chapter xxxi. See Life,
ch. xl. 10.

Life, ch. xiii. 17-23.

Way of Perf. ch. xxv. 7.

Life, ch. xxii. 11. Although the Saint
defends herself against the charge of self-contradiction, there can be no doubt
from this avowal that she too was at one time mistaken on this point.

Life, ch. xxvii. 3, 5. Rel. vii. 26.

Life, ch. xxvii. 7.

Ibid. l.c. 4. Father Juan
de Pradanos was then the Saint’s confessor.

Life, ch. xxv. 22; XXX. 17. Supra, M. vi. ch. iii. 5. Rel. vii. 22. St. John of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel, bk. ii. ch.
xxxi. 1.

In fact, one and the same person.

Life, ch. xix. a; xx. 38. Way of Perf. ch. xxxvi. 10.

Life, ch. xxix 6.

Gen. xvii,
1: ‘Ambula coram me et esto perfectus.’

’Magni doctores scholastici,
si non sint spirituales, vel omni rerum spiritualium experientia careant, non
solent esse magistri spirituales idonei—nam theologia scholastica est
perfectio intellectus; mystica, perfectio intellectus et voluntatis: unde bonus
theologus scholasticus potest esse malus theologus mysticus. In rebus tamen
difficilibus, dubiis, spiritualibus, præstat mediocriter spiritualem theologum
consulere quam spiritualem idiotam.’ (Schram, Theol. Myst. § 483.)

Life, ch. v. 6.

Ibid. ch. xxv. 18 sqq. Way of Perf. ch. iv.
11; v. 3.

Life, ch. xxiii. 14-15. Rel. vii. 17.

Life, ch, vii, 11.

Ibid. xxix, 4.

Life, ch, vii. 11, 12.

’Whenever
I ponder on the Day of Judgment I am overwhelmed by the thought and tremble
from head to foot.’ (St. Jerome). The following saying is by some attributed to
St. Jerome, though not to be found in his works: ‘Whether I eat or drink, or
whatever else I do, the dreadful trumpet of the last day seems always sounding
in my ears: Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment.’ (Alban Butler, Life of St. Jerome). The Life of Christ by Ludolf of Saxony gives
this quotation with the word vox
instead of tuba (part ii. ch.
lxxxvii. 9).

Life, ch. iii.

Excl. xiii, 3.

Castle, M. vi. ch. iii. 12.

Way of Perf ch, xl. 4.

Life, ch. xxvi. 5; xxviii. 21.

Way of Perf. ch. xl. 3.

This
was Father Dominic Bañez. Found. ch.
viii. 3. Life, ch. xxix. 6, 7 and
note.

Letters of Blessed John of Avila
(translated by the Benedictines of Stanbrook), i. 5, p. 19.

Life, ch. xxviii. 13, 4.

St. Teresa, when led in this way, always
asked to be delivered from favours so dangerous as visions, etc. See Life, ch. xxv. 20; xxvii. 3.

I. Reg. xv. 26-28.

Life, ch. xl. 27. She herself was one, and the other, no doubt, was
St. John of the Cross.

Life, ch. xl. 13-16.

Life, ch. xxix. 17. (Transverberation.)

Ibid. ch. xxix. 13, 14. Rel. viii. 16-19.

St.
John of the Cross, Obscure Night, bk.
ii. ch. i. (in fine); Spiritual Canticle, stanza xiii; xiv-xv.
(in fine). When this happened to St.
Teresa she was unable to write for twelve days. Ribera, Acta SS. p. 555 (in fine).
Rel. viii. 13. Life, ch. xx. 16.

St. John of
the Cross, Obscure Night, bk. ii. ch.
xii.

Marginal
note in the Saint’s handwriting. The ‘substantial’ pain of hell consists in the
irrevocable loss of God, our last end and supreme Good; this is incurred from
the first moment in its fullest intensity and therefore cannot increase. The
physical pain with which the bodies will be afflicted when united to the souls
after the general resurrection may vary, but will neither increase nor abate.
The ‘accidental’ pain of the damned arises from various causes, for instance
from the ever-increasing effects of evil actions, and therefore increases in
the same proportion. Thus a heresiarch will suffer keener accidental pain as
more and more souls are lost through his false teaching.

Rel. iv. 1. Concept. ch. vii. 2. Isabel of Jesus, in her deposition in the Acts
of Canonisation (Fuente, Obras, vol.
vi. 316) declares that she was the singer. The words were:

Véante mis ojos,

Dulce Jesús bueno:

Véante mis ojos,

Y muérame yo luégo.

Fuente, l.c. vol. v. 143, note 1. Œuvres, ii. 231. (Poem 36, English version.) There is a slight
difference in the two relations of this occurrence. In Rel. iv. St. Teresa seems to imply that it happened on Easter
Sunday evening, but here she says distinctly: ‘Pascua de Resurreccion, el
postrer dia,’ that is, on Easter Tuesday, April 17, 1571, at
Salamanca.

Compare the words
’Que muero porque no muero’ in the Glosa of St. Teresa. Way of
Perf. ch. xlii . 2. Castle, M. vii. ch. iii. 14.

Way of Perf. ch. xix. 10. Excl. vi.; xii. a.;
xiv.

See the two versions
of the poems written by the Saint on her recovery from the trance into
which she was thrown, beginning ‘Vivir sin vivir in me’ and the poem,
’Cuan triste es, Dios mio’ (Poems 2, 3, and 4, English version). See
also St. Teresa’s poem, ‘Ya toda me entregué y dí.’ (Poem 7,
English version).

Struck by the gentle Hunter

And overthrown,

Within the arms of Love

My soul lay prone.

Raised to new life at last,

This contract ’tween us passed,

That the Beloved should be mine own,

I His alone.

Rel. viii. 17.

Acta SS. p. 64, n. 229.

See
the Saint’s description of a soul in the state of sin, Rel, iii. 13. (towards the end).

Supra, M. i, ch. ii. 1.

Rel. iii. 6; v. 6-8; viii. 20, 21; ix. 12, 17, 19. Deposition by
Fr. Giles Gonzalez, S.J., Provincial of Old Castile, afterwards
Assistant—General in Rome: ‘While the holy Mother lived at the convent of the
Incarnation of Avila as prioress, I often spoke with her, and once I remember
she asked me: “What am I to do, Father? Whenever I recollect myself I
realize that already in this life the Three Persons of the Blessed Trinity may
be seen, and that They accompany me and assist me in the management of my
affairs.”’ (Fuente, Obras, vol.
vi. p. 280.)

’Doña
Maria Enriquez, Duchess of Alva, said that St. Teresa made known to her many
revelations she had received from our Lord, and that she (the duchess) held in
her possession three paintings of the Blessed Trinity made according to the
description of the holy Mother, who, while they were being done, effaced with
her own hand those portions which the painter failed to design conformably to
the vision she had had.’ (Fuente, l.c.
p. 297.)

One of the Saint’s favourite
comparisons. See Life, ch. xxvii. 7. Castle, M. vi. ch. viii. 3. Rel. vii. 26.

’Though the
soul be always in the high estate of marriage since God has placed it there,
nevertheless, actual union in all its powers is not continuous, though the
substantial union is. In this substantial union the powers of the soul are most
frequently in union, and drink of His cellar, the understanding by knowledge,
the will by love, etc. We are not therefore to suppose that the soul, when
saying it went out, has ceased from its substantial or essential union with God,
but only from the union of its faculties, which is not, and cannot be,
permanent in this life.’ (St. John of the Cross, Spiritual Canticle, stanza xxvi. 9. On the words: ‘In the inner
cellar of my Beloved have I drunk, and when I went
forth’).

Life,
ch. xviii. 4. The distinction between soul and spirit, to be found in the
Epistle to the Hebrews, iv. 12, according to Cornelius a Lapide (ad loc.) consists in this, that the term
soul comprises the faculties, senses,
and passions, whereas the term spirit
denotes the substance of the soul independently of its powers. In the inferior
degrees of the Mystical life God operates through the faculties, while in the
Mystical marriage He acts directly on the substance of the soul. St. Teresa is
not quite consistent in the use of these terms, which is not surprising, as she
owns that she does not quite understand this subtle distinction.

Rel. iii. 20; ix. 8 and 25.

Life, ch. xxxix. 29.

Castle, M. v. ch. iv. 1.

Rel. xi. 1. sqq.

Such exclamations, in considerable number,
form the Book of Exclamations
published by Fray Luis de Leon. De Fuente thinks it was written in 1569, but as
St. Teresa’s spiritual betrothal took place on November 18, 1572, it seems, at
least in parts, of a later date. The spiritual nuptials must be placed between
the aforementioned year and May 1575, but it is not possible to ascertain the
exact date. (For the Exclamations,
see Minor Works).

Supra, M. vi. ch. iii. 6. Life, ch. xxv. 5.

This idea is
expressed in St. Teresa’s poem: Alma, buscarte has en Mi’ (Poem 10, Minor Works).

Such is the power of love, O soul,

To paint thee in my heart

No craftsman with such art

Whate’er his skill might be, could there

Thine image thus impart!

’Twas love that gave thee life—

Then, fair one, if thou be

Lost to thyself, thou’lt see

Thy portrait in my bosom stamped—

Soul, seek thyself in Me.

In a letter dated May 1581,
addressed to Don Alonso Velasquez, then bishop of Osma, St. Teresa writes as
follows:

’She
herself has received such an assurance of coming one day to the fruition of
God that she almost imagines she has already come into possession of Him,
without, however, the joy that will accompany it. She is in the same position
as one who by legal contract has received a splendid property which will become
his, and whose fruit he will enjoy at a given date. Until then he only holds
the title-deeds, without being able to take possession of the property.
Nevertheless my soul would not like to come immediately into the possession of
God, for it does not believe that it has deserved such a grace. It only desires
to continue in His service, even at the cost of terrible sufferings. It would
not mind thus serving Him to the end of the world, after having received such a
pledge.’ St. John of the Cross, in treating of this subject (Spir. Cant. stanza xxii. 3) says: ‘I believe that no soul ever attains to
this state without being confirmed in grace in it.’ See also Ribera,
in the Acta Ss. p. 554, circa finem.

Castle, M. vii. ch. i. 11 and 15.

Castle, M. vii. ch. ii. 1. Compare the
references there given.

Don
Alvaro de Mendoza, Bishop of Avila, used to say that the best means of
obtaining St. Teresa’s friendship was to injure or insult her, Acta Ss. n, 1233. Rel. vii. 20.

Rel. viii.
15.

Compare
with the Saint’s poem on self-oblation: ‘Vuestro soy, para Vos naci’ (Poem i.
Minor Works).

Long life bestow, or straightway let me die;

Let health be mine, or pain and sickness send;

Honour or foul dishonour—be my path

Beset by war or peaceful till the end.

My strength or weakness be as Thou dost choose,

Since naught Thou askest shall I e’er refuse.

Say, Lord, what is it Thou dost will for me?

Castle,
M. vi. ch. vi. 6.

The
words from ‘know what He asks’ to ‘as I told you’ are not in the original manuscript,
but must have been written on a separate slip, as is proved by a marginal note
in the handwriting of the Saint: ‘Quando dice aqui: os pide, léase luego este
papel.’ This paper is now lost, but the passage it contained is preserved in
the early manuscript copies of Toledo, Cordova and Salamanca, as well as in the
first printed edition, and, through this, in the old translations; hence both
Woodhead and Dalton have it in its proper place. It is, of course, not to be
found in the autograph published in 1882, nor in Fuente’s Spanish editions nor
in translations based upon these, The Spanish text will be found in Œuvres vi, 297 note.

Supra
§§ i and 2.

III
Reg. vi. 7.

’That
is, so as to lose the senses’ (marginal note in the Saints’ handwriting). Rel.
iii. 5.

Ps.
xli, 2, 5.

Rel.
ix. 19.

III.
Reg. xi.

i
Thess. ii. 9.

The Antiphon
of the Magnificat at first Vespers of the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, June
29, in the Carmelite Breviary used by St. Teresa is: ‘Beatus Petrus Apostolus
vidit sibi Christum occurrere. Adorans
eum ait: “Domine, quo vadis?”—“Venio Romam iterum
crucifigi.” ‘The Blessed Apostle Peter saw Christ come to meet him.
Adoring Him, he asked “Lord, where art Thou going?”—“I go to
Rome to be crucified anew.” The saint at once returned to Rome and was
taken by the soldiers and crucified. See Letter
of Jan. 17. 1577, note 4. Vol. II.

“If
thou wilt stand upon self and wilt not offer thyself freely to My will, thine
offering is not perfect, nor will there be entire union between us.’ (Imitation, bk. iv. ch. viii. 2.)

’St.
Mary Magdalen gave herself up to penance and contemplation in a deep excavation
of the rocks at La Baume, near Marseilles. In this wild spot there was neither
bread, water, nor even herbage. Thus she lived for more than thirty-two years
without any kind of nourishment but that which was celestial, performing meanwhile
most severe penances.’ (St. Vincent Ferrer.)

III Reg. xix. 10.

’There was
one sentiment within him to which may almost be given the name of passion: it
was his ceaseless burning thirst for the salvation of souls. As his Divine
Master had come into the world to save sinners and loved them even unto death,
so he, too, gave up all that was most dear to him in his life to win souls to
Christ. He was always giving himself: it was the very key-note of his
existence. He would have sold himself as a slave, he would have been cut to
pieces by the heretics, he would spare himself neither by day nor by night, if
by any means he might save some.’ (From the History
of St. Dominic, by Augusta Theodosia Drane. London, 1891, p. 256).

’St. Francis of Assisi, at
the very beginning of his Order, when he had only seven followers, said to
them: “Consider, my brethren, what is our vocation. It is not only for our
own salvation that the mercy of God has called us, but for the salvation of
many other souls. It is that we may go forth and exhort all men rather by our
example than by our words, to do penance and keep the divine commands.”’ (The Life of St. Francis of Assisi, by a
religious of the Order of Poor Clares, London, 1861, p. 32).

Ibid. x. 42: ‘Maria optimam partem elegit.’

Ibid. vii. 37.

Marginal
note in the Saint’s handwriting.

Life,
ch. xxi. 9.

Way of Perf. ch, i. 1. Found, ch. i, 6, 7. Supra, M. vi ch. vi, 2.

Way of Perf. ch. vii. 7.

Way of Perf. ch. xvi. 1.

The Way of Perfection

Table of Contents

Preface

Introduction

Translator’S Note

Protestations

Prologue

Chapter 1 - Of The Reason Which Moved Me To Found This Convent In Such Strict Observance.

Chapter 2 - Treats Of How The Necessities Of The Body Should Be Disregarded And Of The Good That Comes From Poverty.

Chapter 3 - Continues The Subject Begun In The First Chapter And Persuades The Sisters To Busy Themselves Constantly In Beseeching God To Help Those Who Work For The Church. Ends With An Exclamatory Prayer.

Chapter 4 - Exhorts The Nuns To Keep Their Rule And Names Three Things Which Are Important For The Spiritual Life. Describes The First Of These Three Things, Which Is Love Of One’S Neighbour, And Speaks Of The Harm Which Can Be Done By Individual Friendships.

Chapter 5 - Continues Speaking Of Confessors. Explains Why It Is Important That They Should Be Learned Men.

Chapter 6 - Returns To The Subject Of Perfect Love, Already Begun.

Chapter 7 - Treats Of The Same Subject Of Spiritual Love And Gives Certain Counsels For Gaining It.

Chapter 8 - Treats Of The Great Benefit Of Self-Detachment, Both Interior And Exterior, From All Things Created.

Chapter 9 - Treats Of The Great Blessing That Shunning Their Relatives Brings To Those Who Have Left The World And Shows How By Doing So They Will Find Truer Friends.

Chapter 10 - Teaches That Detachment From The Things Aforementioned Is Insufficient If We Are Not Detached From Our Own Selves And That This Virtue And Humility Go Together.

Chapter 11 - Continues To Treat Of Mortification And Describes How It May Be Attained In Times Of Sickness.

Chapter 12 - Teaches That The True Lover Of God Must Care Little For Life And Honour.

Chapter 13 - Continues To Treat Of Mortification And Explains How One Must Renounce The World’S Standards Of Wisdom In Order To Attain To True Wisdom.

Chapter 14 - Treats Of The Great Importance Of Not Professing Anyone Whose Spirit Is Contrary To The Things Aforementioned.

Chapter 15 - Treats Of The Great Advantage Which Comes From Our Not Excusing Ourselves, Even Though We Find We Are Unjustly Condemned.

Chapter 16 - Describes The Difference Between Perfection In The Lives Of Contemplatives And In The Lives Of Those Who Are Content With Mental Prayer. Explains How It Is Sometimes Possible For God To Raise A Distracted Soul To Perfect Contemplation And The Reason For This. This Chapter And That Which Comes Next Are To Be Noted Carefully.

Chapter 17 - How Not All Souls Are Fitted For Contemplation And How Some Take Long To Attain It. True Humility Will Walk Happily Along The Road By Which The Lord Leads It.

Chapter 18 - Continues The Same Subject And Shows How Much Greater Are The Trials Of Contemplatives Than Those Of Actives. This Chapter Offers Great Consolation To Actives.

Chapter 19 - Begins To Treat Of Prayer. Addresses Souls Who Cannot Reason With The Understanding.

Chapter 20 - Describes How, In One Way Or Another, We Never Lack Consolation On The Road Of Prayer. Counsels The Sisters To Include This Subject Continually In Their Conversation.

Chapter 21 - Describes The Great Importance Of Setting Out Upon The Practice Of Prayer With Firm Resolution And Of Heeding No Difficulties Put In The Way By The Devil.

Chapter 22 - Explains The Meaning Of Mental Prayer.

Chapter 23 - Describes The Importance Of Not Turning Back When One Has Set Out Upon The Way Of Prayer. Repeats How Necessary It Is To Be Resolute.

Chapter 24 - Describes How Vocal Prayer May Be Practised With Perfection And How Closely Allied It Is To Mental Prayer.

Chapter 25 - Describes The Great Gain Which Comes To A Soul When It Practises Vocal Prayer Perfectly. Shows How God May Raise It Thence To Things Supernatural.

Chapter 26 - Continues The Description Of A Method For Recollecting The Thoughts. Describes Means Of Doing This. This Chapter Is Very Profitable For Those Who Are Beginning Prayer.

Chapter 27 - Describes The Great Love Shown Us By The Lord In The First Words Of The Paternoster And The Great Importance Of Our Making No Account Of Good Birth If We Truly Desire To Be The Daughters Of God.

Chapter 28 - Describes The Nature Of The Prayer Of Recollection And Sets Down Some Of The Means By Which We Can Make It A Habit.

Chapter 29 - Continues To Describe Methods For Achieving This Prayer Of Recollection. Says What Little Account We Should Make Of Being Favoured By Our Superiors.

Chapter 30 - Describes The Importance Of Understanding What We Ask For In Prayer. Treats Of These Words In The “Hallowed Be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom Come.” Applies Them To The Prayer Of Quiet, And Begins The Explanation Of Them.

Chapter 31 - Continues The Same Subject. Explains What Is Meant By The Prayer Of Quiet. Gives Several Counsels To Those Who Experience It. This Chapter Is Very Noteworthy.

Chapter 32 - Expounds These Words Of The Paternoster: “Thy Will Be Done: As In Heaven, So On Earth.” Describes How Much Is Accomplished By Those Who Repeat These Words With Full Resolution And How Well The Lord Rewards Them For It.

Chapter 33 - Treats Of Our Great Need That The Lord Should Give Us What We Ask In These Words Of The Paternoster: “Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread.”

Chapter 34 - Continues The Same Subject. This Is Very Suitable For Reading After The Reception Of The Most Holy Sacrament.

Chapter 35 - Describes The Recollection Which Should Be Practised After Communion. Concludes This Subject With An Exclamatory Prayer To The Eternal Father.

Chapter 36 - Treats Of These Words In The Paternoster: “Forgive Us Our Debts.”

Chapter 37 - Describes The Excellence Of This Prayer Called The Paternoster, And The Many Ways In Which We Shall Find Consolation In It.

Chapter 38 - Treats Of The Great Need Which We Have To Beseech The Eternal Father To Grant Us What We Ask In These Words: “And Lead Us Not Into Temptation, But Deliver Us From Evil.” Explains Certain Temptations. This Chapter Is Noteworthy.

Chapter 39 - Continues The Same Subject And Gives Counsels Concerning Different Kinds Of Temptation. Suggests Two Remedies By Which We May Be Freed From Temptations.

Chapter 40 - Describes How, By Striving Always To Walk In The Love And Fear Of God, We Shall Travel Safely Amid All These Temptations.

Chapter 41 - Speaks Of The Fear Of God And Of How We Must Keep Ourselves From Venial Sins.

Chapter 42 - Treats Of These Last Words Of The Paternoster: “But Deliver Us From Evil. Amen.”

The Way of Perfection

Preface

Although St. Teresa of Avila lived and wrote almost four
centuries ago, her superbly inspiring classic on the practice
of prayer is as fresh and meaningful today as it was when she
first wrote it. The Way of Perfection is a practical guide to
prayer setting forth the Saint’s counsels and directives for
the attainment of spiritual perfection.

Through the entire work there runs the author’s desire to
teach a deep and lasting love of prayer beginning with
a treatment of the three essentials of the prayer-filled life
—fraternal love, detachment from created things, and true
humility. St. Teresa’s counsels on these are not only the
fruit of lofty mental speculation, but of mature practical
experience. The next section develops these ideas and brings
the reader directly to the subjects of prayer and
contemplation. St. Teresa then gives various maxims for the
practice of prayer and leads up to the topic which occupies
the balance of the book—a detailed and inspiring commentary
on the Lord’s Prayer.

Of all St. Teresa’s writings, The Way of Perfection is the
most easily understood. Although it is a work of sublime
mystical beauty, its outstanding hallmark is its simplicity
which instructs, exhorts, and inspires all those who are
seeking a more perfect way of life.

“I shall speak of nothing of which I have no experience,
either in my own life or in observation of others, or which
the Lord has not taught me in prayer.”—
Prologue

Almost four centuries have passed since St. Teresa of Avila,
the great Spanish mystic and reformer, committed to writing
the experiences which brought her to the highest degree of
sanctity. Her search for, and eventual union with, God have
been recorded in her own world-renowned writings—the
autobiographical Life, the celebrated masterpiece
Interior Castle and The Way of Perfection—
as well as in the other numerous works which flowed from her
pen while she lived.

The Way of Perfection was written during the height
of controversy which raged over the reforms St. Teresa enacted
within the Carmelite Order. Its specific purpose was to serve
as a guide in the practice of prayer and it sets forth her
counsels and directives for the attainment of spiritual
perfection through prayer. It was composed by St. Teresa at
the express command of her superiors, and was written during
the late hours in order not to interfere with the day’s
already crowded schedule.

Without doubt it fulfills the tribute given all St. Teresa’s
works by E. Allison Peers, the outstanding authority on her
writings: “Work of a sublime beauty bearing the ineffaceable
hallmark of genius.”

PRINCIPAL ABBREVIATIONS

A.V.—Authorized Version of the Bible (1611).

D.V.—Douai Version of the Bible (1609) .

Letters—Letters of St. Teresa. Unless
otherwise stated, the numbering of the Letters follows Vols.
VII-IX of P. Silverio. Letters (St.) indicates the
translation of the Benedictines of Stanbrook (London, 1919-24,
4 vols.).

Lewis—The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, etc.,
translated by David Lewis, 5th ed., with notes and
introductions by the Very Rev. Benedict Zimmerman, O.C.D.,
London, 1916.

P. Silverio—Obras de Santa Teresa de Jesús,
editadas y anotadas por el P. Silverio de Santa Teresa, C.D.,
Durgos, 1915-24, 9 vols.

Ribera—Francisco de Ribera, Vida de Santa Teresa de
Jesús, Nueva ed. aumentada, con introduction, etc.,
por el P. Jaime Pons, Barcelona, 1908.

S.S.M.—E. Allison Peers, Studies of the Spanish
Mystics, London, 1927-30, 2 vols.

St. John of the Cross—The Complete Works of
Saint John of the Cross, Doctor of the Church,
translated from the critical edition of P. Silverio de Santa
Teresa, C.D., and edited by E. Allison Peers, London, 1934-35,
3 vols.

Yepes—Diego de Yepes, Vida de Santa Teresa,
Madrid, 1615.

TO THE GRACIOUS MEMORY OF

P. EDMUND GURDON

SOMETIME PRIOR OF THE CARTHUSIAN MONASTERY

OF MIRAFLORES

A MAN OF GOD

The Way of Perfection

Introduction

We owe this book, first and foremost, to the affectionate
importunities of the Carmelite nuns of the Primitive
Observance at Ávila, and, in the second place, to that
outstanding Dominican who was also St. Teresa’s confessor,
Fray Domingo Bañez. The nuns of St. Joseph’s knew something of
their Mother Foundress’ autobiography, and, though in all
probability none of them had actually read it, they would have
been aware that it contained valuable counsels to aspirants
after religious perfection, of which, had the book been
accessible to them, they would have been glad to avail
themselves. Such intimate details did it contain, however,
about St. Teresa’s spiritual life that her superiors thought
it should not be put into their hands; so the only way in
which she could grant their persistent requests was to write
another book dealing expressly with the life of prayer. This
P. Bañez was very anxious that she should do.

Through the entire Way of Perfection there runs the
author’s desire to teach her daughters to love prayer, the
most effective means of attaining virtue. This principle is
responsible for the book’s construction. St. Teresa begins by
describing the reason which led her to found the first
Reformed Carmelite convent—viz., the desire to minimize the
ravages being wrought, in France and elsewhere, by
Protestantism, and, within the limits of her capacity, to
check the passion for a so-called “freedom”, which at that
time was exceeding all measure. Knowing how effectively such
inordinate desires can be restrained by a life of humility and
poverty, St. Teresa extols the virtues of poverty and exhorts
her daughters to practise it in their own lives. Even the
buildings in which they live should be poor: on the Day of
Judgment both majestic palaces and humble cottages will fall
and she has no desire that the convents of her nuns should do
so with a resounding clamour.

In this preamble to her book, which comprises Chapters 1-3,
the author also charges her daughters very earnestly to
commend to God those who have to defend the Church of Christ
—particularly theologians and preachers.

The next part of the book (Chaps. 4-15) stresses the
importance of a strict observance of the Rule and
Constitutions, and before going on to its main subject—
prayer—treats of three essentials of the prayer-filled life
—mutual love, detachment from created things and true
humility, the last of these being the most important and
including all the rest. With the mutual love which nuns should
have for one another she deals most minutely, giving what
might be termed homely prescriptions for the domestic
disorders of convents with the skill which we should expect of
a writer with so perfect a knowledge of the psychology of the
cloister. Her counsels are the fruit, not of lofty mental
speculation, but of mature practical expedience. No less aptly
does she speak of the relations between nuns and their
confessors, so frequently a source of danger.

Since excess is possible even in mutual love, she next turns
to detachment. Her nuns must be detached from relatives and
friends, from the world, from worldly honour, and—the last
and hardest achievement—from themselves. To a large extent
their efforts in this direction will involve humility, for, so
long as we have an exaggerated opinion of our own merits,
detachment is impossible. Humility, to St. Teresa, is nothing
more nor less than truth, which will give us the precise
estimate of our own worth that we need. Fraternal love,
detachment and humility: these three virtues, if they are
sought in the way these chapters direct, will make the soul
mistress and sovereign over all created things—a “royal
soul”, in the Saint’s happy phrase, the slave of none save of
Him Who bought it with His blood.

The next section (Chaps. 16-26) develops these ideas, and
leads the reader directly to the themes of prayer and
contemplation. It begins with St. Teresa’s famous extended
simile of the game of chess, in which the soul gives check and
mate to the King of love, Jesus. Many people are greatly
attracted by the life of contemplation because they have
acquired imperfect and misleading notions of the ineffable
mystical joys which they believe almost synonymous with
contemplation. The Saint protests against such ideas as these
and lays it down clearly that, as a general rule, there is no
way of attaining to union with the Beloved save by the
practice of the “great virtues”, which can be acquired only at
the cost of continual self-sacrifice and self-conquest. The
favours which God grants to contemplatives are only
exceptional and of a transitory kind and they are intended to
incline them more closely to virtue and to inspire their lives
with greater fervour.

And here the Saint propounds a difficult question which has
occasioned no little debate among writers on mystical
theology. Can a soul in grave sin enjoy supernatural
contemplation? At first sight, and judging from what the
author says in Chapter 16, the answer would seem to be that,
though but rarely and for brief periods, it can. In the
original (or Escorial) autograph, however, she expressly
denies this, and states that contemplation is not possible for
souls in mortal sin, though it may be experienced by those who
are so lukewarm, or lacking in fervour, that they fall into
venial sins with ease. It would seem that in this respect the
Escorial manuscript reflects the Saint’s ideas, as we know
them, more clearly than the later one of Valladolid; if this
be so, her opinions in no way differ from those of mystical
theologians as a whole, who refuse to allow that souls in
mortal sin can experience contemplation at all.

St. Teresa then examines a number of other questions, on which
opinion has also been divided and even now is by no means
unanimous. Can all souls attain to contemplation? Is it
possible, without experiencing contemplation, to reach the
summit of Christian perfection? Have all the servants of God
who have been canonized by the Church necessarily been
contemplatives? Does the Church ever grant non-contemplatives
beatification? On these questions and others often discussed
by the mystics much light is shed in the seventeenth and
eighteenth chapters.

Then the author crosses swords once more with those who
suppose that contemplatives know nothing of suffering and that
their lives are one continuous series of favours. On the
contrary, she asserts, they suffer more than actives: to
imagine that God admits to this closest friendship people
whose lives are all favours and no trials is ridiculous.
Recalling the doctrine expounded in the nineteenth chapter of
her Life she gives various counsels for the practice
of prayer, using once more the figures of water which she had
employed in her first description of the Mystic Way. She
consoles those who cannot reason with the understanding, shows
how vocal prayer may be combined with mental, and ends by
advising those who suffer from aridity in prayer to picture
Jesus as within their hearts and thus always beside them—
one of her favourite themes.

This leads up to the subject which occupies her for the rest
of the book (Chaps. 27-42)—the Lord’s Prayer. These
chapters, in fact, comprise a commentary on the Paternoster,
taken petition by petition, touching incidentally upon the
themes of Recollection, Quiet and Union. Though nowhere
expounding them as fully as in the Life or the
Interior Castle, she treats them with equal
sublimity, profundity and fervour and in language of no less
beauty. Consider, for example, the apt and striking simile of
the mother and the child (Chap. 31), used to describe the
state of the soul in the Prayer of Quiet, which forms one of
the most beautiful and expressive expositions of this degree
of contemplation to be found in any book on the interior life
whatsoever.

In Chapter 38, towards the end of the commentary on the
Paternoster, St. Teresa gives a striking synthetic description
of the excellences of that Prayer and of its spiritual value.
She enters at some length into the temptations to which
spiritual people are exposed when they lack humility and
discretion. Some of these are due to presumption: they believe
they possess virtues which in fact they do not—or, at
least, not in sufficient degree to enable them to resist the
snares of the enemy. Others come from a mistaken
scrupulousness and timidity inspired by a sense of the
heinousness of their sins, and may lead them into doubt and
despair. There are souls, too, which make overmuch account of
spiritual favours: these she counsels to see to it that,
however sublime their contemplation may be, they begin and end
every period of prayer with self-examination. While others
whose mistrust of themselves makes them restless, are exhorted
to trust in the Divine mercy, which never forsakes those who
possess true humility.

Finally, St. Teresa writes of the love and fear of God—two
mighty castles which the fiercest of the soul’s enemies will
storm in vain—and begs Him, in the last words of the Prayer
to preserve her daughters, and all other souls who practise
the interior life, from the ills and perils which will ever
surround them, until they reach the next world, where all will
be peace and joy in Jesus Christ.

Such, in briefest outline, is the argument of this book. Of
all St. Teresa’s writings it is the most easily comprehensible
and it can be read with profit by a greater number of people
than any of the rest. It is also (if we use the word in its
strictest and truest sense) the most ascetic of her treatises;
only a few chapters and passages in it, here and there, can be
called definitely mystical. It takes up numerous ideas already
adumbrated in the Life and treats them in a practical
and familiar way—objectively, too, with an eye not so much
to herself as to her daughters of the Discalced Reform. This
last fact necessitates her descending to details which may
seem to us trivial but were not in the least so to the
religious to whom they were addressed and with whose virtues
and failing she was so familiar. Skilfully, then, and in a way
profitable to all, she intermingles her teaching on the most
rudimentary principles of the religious life, which has all
the clarity of any classical treatise, with instruction on the
most sublime and elusive tenets of mystical theology.

ESCORIAL AUTOGRAPH—The Way of perfection—or
Paternoster, as its author calls it, from the latter
part of its content—was written twice. Both autographs have
been preserved in excellent condition, the older of them in
the monastery of San Lorenzo el Real, El Escorial, and the
other in the convent of the Discalced Carmelite nuns at
Valladolid. We have already seen how Philip II acquired
a number of Teresan autographs for his new Escorial library,
among them that of the Way of perfection. The
Escorial manuscript bears the title “Treatise of the Way of
Perfection”, but this is not in St. Teresa’s hand. It plunges
straight into the prologue: both the title and the brief
account of the contents, which are found in most of the
editions, are taken from the autograph of Valladolid, and the
humble protestation of faith and submission to the Holy Roman
Church was dictated by the Saint for the edition of the book
made in Évora by Don Teutonio de Braganza - it is found in the
Toledo codex, which will be referred to again shortly.

The text, divided into seventy-three short chapters, has no
chapter-divisions in the ordinary sense of the phrase, though
the author has left interlinear indications showing where each
chapter should begin. The chapter-headings form a table of
contents at the end of the manuscript and only two of them (55
and 56) are in St. Teresa’s own writing. As the remainder,
however, are in a feminine hand of the sixteenth century, they
may have been dictated by her to one of her nuns: they are
almost identical with those which she herself wrote at a later
date in the autograph of Valladolid.

There are a considerable number of emendations in this text,
most of them made by the Saint herself, whose practice was to
obliterate any unwanted word so completely as to make it
almost illegible. None of such words or phrases was restored
in the autograph of Valladolid—a sure indication that it
was she who erased them, or at least that she approved of
their having been erased. There are fewer annotations and
additions in other hands than in the autographs of any of her
remaining works, and those few are of little importance. This
may be due to the fact that a later redaction of the work was
made for the use of her convents and for publication: the
Escorial manuscript would have circulated very little and
would never have been subjected to a minute critical
examination. Most of what annotations and corrections of this
kind there are were made by the Saint’s confessor, P. García
de Toledo, whom, among others, she asked to examine the
manuscript.

There is no direct indication in the manuscript of the date of
its composition. We know that it was written at St. Joseph’s,
Ávila, for the edification and instruction of the first nuns
of the Reform, and the prologue tells us that only “a few
days” had elapsed between the completion of the Life
and the beginning of the Way of perfection. If,
therefore, the Life was finished at the end of 1565 [or in the
early weeks of 1566] [1]we can date the commencement of the Way of
perfection with some precision. [But even then there is no
indication as to how long the composition took and when it was
completed.]

A complication occurs in the existence, at the end of a copy
of the Way of perfection which belongs to the Discalced
Carmelite nuns of Salamanca, and contains corrections in St.
Teresa’s hand, of a note, in the writing of the copyist, which
says: This book was written in the year sixty-two—I mean
fifteen hundred and sixty-two.” There follow some lines in the
writing of St. Teresa, which make no allusion to this date;
her silence might be taken as confirming it (though she
displays no great interest in chronological exactness) were it
not absolutely impossible to reconcile such a date with the
early chapters of the book, which make it quite clear that the
community of thirteen nuns was fully established when they
were written (Chap. 4, below). There could not possibly have
been so many nuns at St. Joseph’s before late in the year
1563, in which Mar de San Jerónimo and Isabel de Santo Domingo
took the habit, and it is doubtful if St. Teresa could
conceivably have begun the book before the end of that year.
Even, therefore, if the reference in the preface to the Way of
perfection were to the first draft of the Life (1562), and not
to that book as we know it, there would still be the
insuperable difficulty raised by this piece of internal
evidence. [2]We are
forced, then, to assume an error in the Salamanca copy and to
assign to the beginning of the Way of perfection the date
1565-6.

VALLADOLID AUTOGRAPH. In writing for her Ávila nuns,
St. Teresa used language much more simple, familiar and homely
than in any of her other works. But when she began to
establish more foundations and her circle of readers widened,
this language must have seemed to her too affectionately
intimate, and some of her figures and images may have struck
her as too domestic and trivial, for a more general and
scattered public. So she conceived the idea of rewriting the
book in a more formal style; it is the autograph of this
redaction which is in the possession of the Discalced
Carmelite nuns of Valladolid.

The additions, omissions and modifications in this new
autograph are more considerable than is generally realized.
From the preface onwards, there is no chapter without its
emendations and in many there are additions of whole
paragraphs. The Valladolid autograph, therefore, is in no
sense a copy, or even a recast, of the first draft, but a free
and bold treatment of it. As a general rule, a second draft,
though often more correctly written and logically arranged
than its original, is less flexible, fluent and spontaneous.
It is hard to say how far this is the case here. Undoubtedly
some of the charm of the author’s natural simplicity vanishes,
but the corresponding gain in clarity and precision is
generally considered greater than the loss. Nearly every
change she makes is an improvement; and this not only in
stylistic matters, for one of the greatest of her improvements
is the lengthening of the chapters and their reduction in
number from 73 to 42, to the great advantage of the book’s
symmetry and unity.

It is clear that St. Teresa intended the Valladolid redaction
to be the definitive form of her book since she had so large
a number of copies of it made for her friends and spiritual
daughters: among these were the copy which she sent for
publication to Don Teutonio de Braganza and that used for the
first collected edition of her works by Fray Luis de León. For
the same reason this redaction has always been given
preference over its predecessor by the Discalced
Carmelites.

The Way of Perfection

Translator’S Note

In the text of each of the chapters, of the Valladolid
autograph there are omissions—some merely verbal, often
illustrating the author’s aim in making the new redaction,
others more fundamental. If the Valladolid manuscript
represents the Way of perfection as St. Teresa wrote
it in the period of her fullest powers, the greater freshness
and individuality of the Escorial manuscript are engaging
qualities, and there are many passages in it, omitted from the
later version, which one would be sorry to sacrifice.

In what form, then, should the book be presented to English
readers? It is not surprising if this question is difficult to
answer, since varying procedures have been adopted for the
presentation of it in Spain. Most of them amount briefly to
a re-editing of the Valladolid manuscript. The first edition
of the book, published at Évora in the year 1583, follows this
manuscript, apparently using a copy (the so-called “Toledo”
copy) made by Ana de San Pedro and corrected by St. Teresa; it
contains a considerable number of errors, however, and omits
one entire chapter—the thirty-first, which deals with the
Prayer of Quiet, a subject that was arousing some controversy
at the time when the edition was being prepared. In 1585,
a second edition, edited by Fray Jerónimo Gracián, was
published at Salamanca: the text of this follows that of the
Évora edition very closely, as apparently does the text of
a rare edition published at Valencia in 1586. When Fray Luis
de Leon used the Valladolid manuscript as the foundation of
his text (1588) he inserted for the first time paragraphs and
phrases from that of El Escorial, as well as admitting
variants from the copies corrected by the author: he is not
careful however, to indicate how and where his edition differs
from the manuscript.

Since 1588, most of the Spanish editions have followed Fray
Luis de León with greater or less exactness. The principal
exception is the well-known “Biblioteca de Autores Españoles”
edition, in which La Fuente followed a copy of the then almost
forgotten Escorial manuscript, indicating in footnotes some of
the variant readings in the codex of Valladolid. In the
edition of 1883, the work of a Canon of Valladolid Cathedral,
Francisco Herrero Bayona, the texts of the two manuscripts are
reproduced in parallel columns. P. Silverio de Santa Teresa
gives the place of honour to the Valladolid codex, on which he
bases his text, showing only the principal variants of the
Escorial manuscript but printing the Escorial text in full in
an appendix as well as the text of the Toledo copy referred to
above.

The first translations of this book into English, by Woodhead
(1675: reprinted 1901) and Dalton (1852), were based, very
naturally, on the text of Luis de León, which in less critical
ages than our own enjoyed great prestige and was considered
quite authoritative. The edition published in 1911 by the
Benedictines of Stanbrook, described on its title-page as
“including all the variants” from both the Escorial and the
Valladolid manuscript, uses Herrero Bayona and gives an
eclectic text based on the two originals but with no
indications as to which is which. The editors’ original idea
of using one text only, and showing variants in footnotes, was
rejected in the belief that “such an arrangement would prove
bewildering for the generality of readers” and that anyone who
could claim the title of “student” would be able to read the
original Spanish and would have access to the Herrero Bayona
edition. Father Zimmerman, in his introduction, claimed that
while the divergences between the manuscripts are sometimes
“so great that the [Stanbrook] translation resembles a mosaic
composed of a large number of small bits, skilfully combined”,
“the work has been done most conscientiously, and while
nothing has been added to the text of the Saint, nothing has
been omitted, except, of course, what would have been mere
repetition”.

This first edition of the Benedictines’ translation furnished
the general reader with an attractive version of what many
consider St. Teresa’s most attractive book, but soon after it
was published a much more intelligent and scholarly interest
began to be taken in the Spanish mystics and that not only by
students with ready access to the Spanish original and ability
to read it. So, when a new edition of the Stanbrook
translation was called for, the editors decided to indicate
the passages from the Escorial edition which had been embodied
in the text by enclosing these in square brackets. In 1911,
Father Zimmerman, suspecting that the procedure then adopted
by the translators would not “meet with the approval of
scholars”, had justified it by their desire “to benefit the
souls of the faithful rather than the intellect of the
student”; but now, apparently, he thought it practicable to
achieve both these aims at once. This resolution would
certainly have had the support of St. Teresa, who in this very
book describes intelligence as a useful staff to carry on the
way of perfection. The careful comparison of two separate
versions of such a work of genius may benefit the soul of an
intelligent reader even more than the careful reading of
a version compounded of both by someone else.

When I began to consider the preparation of the present
translation it seemed to me that an attempt might be made to
do a little more for the reader who combined intelligence with
devoutness than had been done already. I had no hesitation
about basing my version on the Valladolid MS., which is far
the better of the two, whether we consider the aptness of its
illustrations, the clarity of its expression, the logical
development of its argument or its greater suitability for
general reading. At the same time, no Teresan who has studied
the Escorial text can fail to have an affection for it: its
greater intimacy and spontaneity and its appeal to personal
experience make it one of the most characteristic of all the
Saint’s writings—indeed, excepting the Letters and
a few chapters of the Foundations, it reveals her
better than any. Passages from the Escorial MS. must therefore
be given: thus far I followed the reasoning of the Stanbrook
nuns.

Where this translation diverges from theirs is in the method
of presentation. On the one hand I desired, as St. Teresa must
have desired, that it should be essentially her mature
revision of the book that should be read. For this reason
I have been extremely conservative as to the interpolations
admitted into the text itself: I have rejected, for example,
the innumerable phrases which St. Teresa seems to have cut out
in making her new redaction because they were trivial or
repetitive, because they weaken rather than reinforce her
argument, because they say what is better said elsewhere,
because they summarize needlessly [3]or
because they are mere personal observations which interrupt
the author’s flow of thought, and sometimes, indeed, are
irrelevant to it. I hope it is not impertinent to add that,
in the close study which the adoption of this procedure has
involved, I have acquired a respect and admiration for St.
Teresa as a reviser, to whom, as far as I know, no one who has
written upon her has done full justice. Her shrewdness,
realism and complete lack of vanity make her an admirable
editor of her own work, and, in debating whether or no to
incorporate some phrase or passage in my text I have often
asked myself: Would St. Teresa have included or omitted this
if she had been making a fresh revision for a world-wide
public over a period of centuries?”

At the same time, though admitting only a minimum of
interpolations into my text, I have given the reader all the
other important variants in footnotes. I cannot think, as
Father Zimmerman apparently thought, that anyone can find the
presence of a few notes at the foot of each page
“bewildering”. Those for whom they have no interest may ignore
them; others, in studying them, may rest assured that the only
variants not included (and this applies to the variants from
the Toledo copy as well as from the Escorial MS.) are such as
have no significance in a translation. I have been rather less
meticulous here than in my edition of St. John of the Cross,
where textual problems assumed greater importance. Thus,
except where there has been some special reason for doing so,
I have not recorded alterations in the order of clauses or
words; the almost regular use by E. of the second person of
the plural where V. has the first; the frequent and often
apparently purposeless changes of tense; such substitutions,
in the Valladolid redaction, as those of “Dios” or “Señior
mío” for “Señior”; or merely verbal paraphrases as (to take an
example at random) “Todo esto que he dicho es para . . .” for
“En todo esto que he dicho no trato . . .” Where I have given
variants which may seem trivial (such as “hermanas” for
“hijas”, or the insertion of an explanatory word, like “digo”)
the reason is generally that there seems to me a possibility
that some difference in tone is intended, or that the
alternative phrase gives some slight turn to the thought which
the phrase in the text does not.

The passages from the Escorial version which I have allowed
into my text are printed in italics. Thus, without their being
given undue prominence (and readers of the Authorized Version
of the Bible will know how seldom they can recall what words
are italicized even in the passages they know best) it is
clear at a glance how much of the book was intended by its
author to be read by a wider public than the nuns of St.
Joseph’s. The interpolations may be as brief as a single
expressive word, or as long as a paragraph, or even a chapter:
the original Chapter 17 of the Valladolid MS., for example,
which contains the famous similitude of the Game of Chess, was
torn out of the codex by its author (presumably with the idea
that so secular an illustration was out of place) and has been
restored from the Escorial MS. as part of Chapter 16 of this
translation. No doubt the striking bullfight metaphor at the
end of Chapter 39 was suppressed in the Valladolid codex for
the same reason. With these omissions may be classed a number
of minor ones—of words or phrases which to the author may
have seemed too intimate or colloquial but do not seem so to
us. Other words and phrases have apparently been suppressed
because St. Teresa thought them redundant, whereas a later
reader finds that they make a definite contribution to the
sense or give explicitness and detail to what would otherwise
be vague, or even obscure. [4]A few suppressions seem
to have been due to pure oversight. For the omission of other
passages it is difficult to find any reason, so good are they:
the conclusion of Chapter 38 and the opening of Chapter 41 are
cases in point.

The numbering of the chapters, it should be noted, follows
neither of the two texts, but is that traditionally employed
in the printed editions. The chapter headings are also drawn
up on an eclectic basis, though here the Valladolid text is
generally followed.

The system I have adopted not only assures the reader that he
will be reading everything that St. Teresa wrote and nothing
that she did not write, but that he can discern almost at
a glance, what she meant to be read by her little group of
nuns at St. Joseph’s and also how she intended her work to
appear in its more definitive form. Thus we can see her both
as the companion and Mother and as the writer and Foundress.
In both roles she is equally the Saint.

But it should be made clear that, while incorporating in my
text all important passages from the Escorial draft omitted in
that of Valladolid, I have thought it no part of my task to
provide a complete translation of the Escorial draft alone,
and that, therefore, in order to avoid the multiplication of
footnotes, I have indicated only the principal places where
some expression in the later draft is not to be found in the
earlier. In other words, although, by omitting the italicized
portions of my text, one will be able to have as exact
a translation of the Valladolid version as it is possible to
get, the translation of the Escorial draft will be only
approximate. This is the sole concession I have made to the
ordinary reader as opposed to the student, and it is hardly
conceivable, I think, that any student to whom this could
matter would be unable to read the original Spanish.

One final note is necessary on the important Toledo copy, the
text of which P. Silverio also prints in full. This text
I have collated with that of the Valladolid autograph, from
which it derives. In it both St. Teresa herself and others
have made corrections and additions—more, in fact, than in
any of the other copies extant. No attempt has been made here
either to show what the Toledo copy omits or to include those
of its corrections and additions—by far the largest number
of them—which are merely verbal and unimportant, and many
of which, indeed, could not be embodied in a translation at
all. But the few additions which are really worth noting have
been incorporated in the text (in square brackets so as to
distinguish them from the Escorial additions) and all
corrections which have seemed to me of any significance will
be found in footnotes.

BOOK CALLED WAY OF PERFECTION.[5]

Composed by TERESA OF JESUS, Nun of the Order of Our Lady
of Carmel, addressed to the Discalced Nuns of Or Lady of
Carmel of the First Rule.[6]

General Argument of this Book

J. H. S.

This book treats of maxims and counsels which Teresa of Jesus
gives to her daughters and sisters in religion, belonging to
the Convents which, with the favour of Our Lord and of the
glorious Virgin, Mother of God, Our Lady, she has founded
according to the First Rule of Our Lady of Carmel. In
particular she addresses it to the sisters of the Convent of
Saint Joseph of Ávila, which was the first Convent, and of
which she was Prioress when she wrote it.[7]

The Way of Perfection

Protestations

In all that I shall say in this Book, I submit to what is
taught by Our Mother, the Holy Roman Church; if there is
anything in it contrary to this, it will be without my
knowledge. Therefore, for the love of Our Lord, I beg the
learned men who are to revise it to look at it very carefully
and to amend any faults of this nature which there may be in
it and the many others which it will have of other kinds. If
there is anything good in it, let this be to the glory and
honour of God and in the service of His most sacred Mother,
our Patroness and Lady, whose habit, though all unworthily,
I wear.

The Way of Perfection

Prologue

J. H. S.

The sisters of this Convent of Saint Joseph, knowing that
I had had leave from Father Presentado Fray Domingo Bañes,
[8]of the Order of the glorious Saint Dominic, who
at present is my confessor, to write certain things about
prayer, which it seems I may be able to succeed in doing since
I have had to do with many holy and spiritual persons, have,
out of their great love for me, so earnestly begged me to say
something to them about this that I have resolved to obey
them. I realize that the great love which they have for me may
render the imperfection and the poverty of my style in what
I shall say to them more acceptable than other books which are
very ably written by those who [9]have known what they are writing
about. I rely upon their prayers, by means of which the Lord
may be pleased to enable me to say something concerning the
way and method of life which it is fitting should be practised
in this house. If I do not succeed in doing this, Father
Presentado, who will first read what I have written, will
either put it right or burn it, so that I shall have lost
nothing by obeying these servants of God, and they will see
how useless I am when His Majesty does not help me.

My intent is to suggest a few remedies for a number of small
temptations which come from the devil, and which, because they
are so slight, are apt to pass unnoticed. I shall also write
of other things, according as the Lord reveals them to me and
as they come to my mind; since I do not know what I am going
to say I cannot set it down in suitable order; and I think it
is better for me not to do so, for it is quite unsuitable that
I should be writing in this way at all. May the Lord lay His
hand on all that I do so that it may be in accordance with His
holy will; this is always my desire, although my actions may
be as imperfect as I myself am.

I know that I am lacking neither in love nor in desire to do
all I can to help the souls of my sisters to make great
progress in the service of the Lord. It may be that this love,
together with my years and the experience which I have of
a number of convents, will make me more successful in writing
about small matters than learned men can be. For these, being
themselves strong and handing other and more important
occupations, do not always pay such heed to things which in
themselves seem of no importance but which may do great harm
to persons as weak as we women are. For the snares laid by the
devil for strictly cloistered nuns are numerous and he finds
that he needs new weapons if he is to do them harm. I, being
a wicked woman, have defended myself but ill, and so I should
like my sisters to take warning by me. I shall speak of
nothing of which I have no experience, either in my own life
or in the observation of others, or which the Lord has not
taught me in prayer.

A few days ago I was commanded to write an account of my life
in which I also dealt with certain matters concerning prayer.
It may be that my confessor will not wish you to see this, for
which reason I shall set down here some of the things which
I said in that book and others which may also seem to me
necessary. May the Lord direct this, as I have begged Him to
do, and order it for His greater glory. Amen.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 1

Of the reason which moved me to found this
convent in such strict observance.

When this convent was originally founded, for the reasons set
down in the book which, as I say, I have already written, and
also because of certain wonderful revelations by which the
Lord showed me how well He would be served in this house, it
was not my intention that there should be so much austerity in
external matters, nor that it should have no regular income:
on the contrary, I should have liked there to be no
possibility of want. I acted, in short, like the weak and
wretched woman that I am, although I did so with good
intentions and not out of consideration for my own
comfort.

At about this time there came to my notice the harm and havoc
that were being wrought in France by these Lutherans and the
way in which their unhappy sect was increasing. [10]This
troubled me very much, and, as though I could do anything, or
be of any help in the matter, I wept before the Lord and
entreated Him to remedy this great evil. I felt that I would
have laid down a thousand lives to save a single one of all
the souls that were being lost there. And, seeing that I was
a woman, and a sinner, [11]and incapable of doing all I should like in the
Lord’s service, and as my whole yearning was, and still is,
that, as He has so many enemies and so few friends, these last
should be trusty ones, I determined to do the little that was
in me—namely, to follow the evangelical counsels as
perfectly as I could, and to see that these few nuns who are
here should do the same, confiding in the great goodness of
God, Who never fails to help those who resolve to forsake
everything for His sake. As they are all that I have ever
painted them as being in my desires, I hoped that their
virtues would more than counteract my defects, and I should
thus be able to give the Lord some pleasure, and all of us, by
busying ourselves in prayer for those who are defenders of the
Church, and for the preachers and learned men who defend her,
should do everything we could to aid this Lord of mine Who is
so much oppressed by those to whom He has shown so much good
that it seems as though these traitors would send Him to the
Cross again and that He would have nowhere to lay His
head.

Oh, my Redeemer, my heart cannot conceive this without being
sorely distressed! What has become of Christians now? Must
those who owe Thee most always be those who distress Thee?
Those to whom Thou doest the greatest kindnesses, whom Thou
dost choose for Thy friends, among whom Thou dost move,
communicating Thyself to them through the Sacraments? Do they
not think, Lord of my soul, that they have made Thee
endure more than sufficient torments?

It is certain, my Lord, that in these days withdrawal from the
world means no sacrifice at all. Since worldly people have so
little respect for Thee, what can we expect them to have for
us? Can it be that we deserve that they should treat us any
better than they have treated Thee? Have we done more for them
than Thou hast done that they should be friendly to us? What
then? What can we expect—we who, through the goodness of
the Lord, are free from that pestilential infection, and do
not, like those others, belong to the devil? They have won
severe punishment at his hands and their pleasures have richly
earned them eternal fire. So to eternal fire they will have to
go, [12]though none
the less it breaks my heart to see so many souls travelling to
perdition. I would the evil were not so great and I did not
see more being lost every day.

Oh, my sisters in Christ! Help me to entreat this of the Lord,
Who has brought you together here for that very purpose. This
is your vocation; this must be your business; these must be
your desires; these your tears; these your petitions. Let us
not pray for worldly things, my sisters. It makes me laugh,
and yet it makes me sad, when I hear of the things which
people come here to beg us to pray to God for; we are to ask
His Majesty to give them money and to provide them with
incomes—I wish that some of these people would entreat God
to enable them to trample all such things beneath their feet.
Their intentions are quite good, and I do as they ask because
I see that they are really devout people, though I do not
myself believe that God ever hears me when I pray for such
things. The world is on fire. Men try to condemn Christ once
again, as it were, for they bring a thousand false witnesses
against Him. They would raze His Church to the ground—and
are we to waste our time upon things which, if God were to
grant them, would perhaps bring one soul less to Heaven? No,
my sisters, this is no time to treat with God for things of
little importance.

Were it not necessary to consider human frailty, which finds
satisfaction in every kind of help—and it is always a good
thing if we can be of any help to people—I should like it
to be understood that it is not for things like these that God
should be importuned with such anxiety.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 2

Treats of how the necessities of the body
should be disregarded and of the good that comes from
poverty.

Do not think, my sisters, that because you do not go about
trying to please people in the world you will lack food. You
will not, I assure you: never try to sustain yourselves by
human artifices, or you will die of hunger, and rightly so.
Keep your eyes fixed upon your Spouse: it is for Him to
sustain you; and, if He is pleased with you, even those who
like you least will give you food, if unwillingly, as you have
found by experience. If you should do as I say and yet die of
hunger, then happy are the nuns of Saint Joseph’s! For the
love of the Lord, let us not forget this: you have forgone
a regular income; forgo worry about food as well, or thou will
lose everything. Let those whom the Lord wishes to live on an
income do so: if that is their vocation, they are perfectly
justified; but for us to do so, sisters, would be
inconsistent.

Worrying about getting money from other people seems to me
like thinking about what other people enjoy. However much you
worry, you will not make them change their minds nor will they
become desirous of giving you alms. Leave these anxieties to
Him Who can move everyone, Who is the Lord of all money and of
all who possess money. It is by His command that we have come
here and His words are true—they cannot fail: Heaven and
earth will fail first. [13]Let us not fail Him,
and let us have no fear that He will fail us; if He should
ever do so it will be for our greater good, just as the saints
failed to keep their lives when they were slain for the Lord’s
sake, and their bliss was increased through their martyrdom.
We should be making a good exchange if we could have done with
this life quickly and enjoy everlasting satiety.

Remember, sisters, that this will be important when I am dead;
and that is why I am leaving it to you in writing. For,
with God’s help, as long as I live, I will remind you
of it myself, as I know by experience what a great help it
will be to you. It is when I possess least that I have the
fewest worries and the Lord knows that, as far as I can tell,
I am more afflicted when there is excess of anything than when
there is lack of it; I am not sure if that is the Lord’s
doing, but I have noticed that He provides for us immediately.
To act otherwise would be to deceive the world by pretending
to be poor when we are not poor in spirit but only outwardly.
My conscience would give me a bad time. It seems to me it
would be like stealing what was being given us, as one might
say; for I should feel as if we were rich people asking alms:
please God this may never be so. Those who worry too much
about the alms that they are likely to be given will find that
sooner or later this bad habit will lead them to go and ask
for something which they do not need, and perhaps from someone
who needs it more than they do. Such a person would gain
rather than lose by giving it us but we should certainly be
the worse off for having it. God forbid this should ever
happen, my daughters; if it were likely to do so, I should
prefer you to have a regular income.

I beg you, for the love of God, just as if I were begging alms
for you, never to allow this to occupy your thoughts. If the
very least of you ever hears of such a thing happening in this
house, cry out about it to His Majesty and speak to your
Superior. Tell her humbly that she is doing wrong; this is so
serious a matter that it may cause true poverty gradually to
disappear. I hope in the Lord that this will not be so and
that He will not forsake His servants; and for that reason, if
for no other, what you have told me to write may be useful to
you as a reminder.

My daughters must believe that it is for their own good that
the Lord has enabled me to realize in some small degree what
blessings are to be found in holy poverty. Those of them who
practise it will also realize this, though perhaps not as
clearly as I do; for, although I had professed poverty, I was
not only without poverty of spirit, but my spirit was devoid
of all restraint. Poverty is good and contains within itself
all the good things in the world. It is a great domain—
I mean that he who cares nothing for the good things of the
world has dominion over them all. What do kings and lords
matter to me if I have no desire to possess their money, or to
please them, if by so doing I should cause the least
displeasure to God? And what do their honours mean to me if
I have realized that the chief honour of a poor man consists
in his being truly poor?

For my own part, I believe that honour and money nearly always
go together, and that he who desires honour never hates money,
while he who hates money cares little for honour. Understand
this clearly, for I think this concern about honour always
implies some slight regard for endowments or money:
seldom or never is a poor man honoured by the world;
however worthy of honour he may be, he is apt rather to be
despised by it. With true poverty there goes a different kind
of honour to which nobody can take objection. I mean that, if
poverty is embraced for God’s sake alone, no one has to be
pleased save God. It is certain that a man who has no need of
anyone has many friends: in my own experience I have found
this to be very true.

A great deal has been written about this virtue which I cannot
understand, still less express, and I should only be making
things worse if I were to eulogize it, so I will say no more
about it now. I have only spoken of what I have myself
experienced and I confess that I have been so much absorbed
that until now I have hardly realized what I have been
writing. However, it has been said now. Our arms are holy
poverty, which was so greatly esteemed and so strictly
observed by our holy Fathers at the beginning of the
foundation of our Order. (Someone who knows about this tells
me that they never kept anything from one day to the next.)
For the love of the Lord, then, [I beg you] now that the rule
of poverty is less perfectly observed as regards outward
things, let us strive to observe it inwardly. Our life lasts
only for a couple of hours; our reward is boundless; and, if
there were no reward but to follow the counsels given us by
the Lord, to imitate His Majesty in any degree would bring us
a great recompense.

These arms must appear on our banners and at all costs we must
keep this rule—as regards our house, our clothes, our
speech, and (which is much more important) our thoughts. So
long as this is done, there need be no fear, with the help of
God, that religious observances in this house will decline,
for, as Saint Clare said, the walls of poverty are very
strong. It was with these walls, she said, and with those of
humility, that she wished to surround her convents; and
assuredly, if the rule of poverty is truly kept, both chastity
and all the other virtues are fortified much better than by
the most sumptuous edifices. Have a care to this, for the love
of God; and this I beg of you by His blood. If I may say what
my conscience bids me, I should wish that, on the day when you
build such edifices, they [14]may fall down
and kill you all.

It seems very wrong, my daughters, that great houses should be
built with the money of the poor; may God forbid that this
should be done; let our houses be small and poor in every way.
Let us to some extent resemble our King, Who had no house save
the porch in Bethlehem where He was born and the Cross on
which He died. These were houses where little comfort could be
found. Those who erect large houses will no doubt have good
reasons for doing so. I do not utterly condemn them:
they are moved by various holy intentions. But any corner is
sufficient for thirteen poor women. If grounds should be
thought necessary on account of the strictness of the
enclosure, and also as an aid to prayer and devotion, and
because our miserable nature needs such things, well
and good; and let there be a few hermitages [15]in them in which the sisters may go to
pray. But as for a large ornate convent, with a lot of
buildings—God preserve us from that! Always remember that
these things will all fall down on the Day of Judgment, and
who knows how soon that will be?

It would hardly look well if the house of thirteen poor women
made a great noise when it fell, for those who are really poor
must make no noise: unless they live a noiseless life people
will never take pity on them. And how happy my sisters will be
if they see someone freed from hell by means of the alms which
he has given them; and this is quite possible, since they are
strictly bound to offer continual prayer for persons who give
them food. It is also God’s will that, although the food comes
from Him, we should thank the persons by whose means He gives
it to us: let there be no neglect of this.

I do not remember what I had begun to say, for I have strayed
from my subject. But I think this must have been the Lord’s
will, for I never intended to write what I have said here. May
His Majesty always keep us in His hand so that we may never
fall. Amen.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 3

Continues the subject begun in the first
chapter and persuades the sisters to busy themselves
constantly in beseeching God to help those who work for the
Church. Ends with an exclamatory prayer.

Let us now return to the principal reason for which the Lord
has brought us together in this house, for which reason I am
most desirous that we may be able to please His Majesty.
Seeing how great are the evils of the present day and how no
human strength will suffice to quench the fire kindled by
these heretics (though attempts have been made to organize
opposition to them, as though such a great and rapidly
spreading evil could be remedied by force of arms), it seems
to me that it is like a war in which the enemy has overrun the
whole country, and the Lord of the country, hard pressed,
retires into a city, which he causes to be well fortified, and
whence from time to time he is able to attack. Those who are
in the city are picked men who can do more by themselves than
they could do with the aid of many soldiers if they were
cowards. Often this method gains the victory; or, if the
garrison does not conquer, it is at least not conquered; for,
as it contains no traitors, but picked men, it can be
reduced only by hunger. In our own conflict, however, we
cannot be forced to surrender by hunger; we can die but we
cannot be conquered.

Now why have I said this? So that you may understand, my
sisters, that what we have to ask of God is that, in this
little castle of ours, inhabited as it is by good Christians,
none of us may go over to the enemy. We must ask God, too, to
make the captains in this castle or city—that is, the
preachers and theologians—highly proficient in the way of
the Lord. And as most of these are religious, we must pray
that they may advance in perfection, and in the fulfilment of
their vocation, for this is very needful. For, as I have
already said, it is the ecclesiastical and not the secular arm
which must defend us. And as we can do nothing by either of
these means to help our King, let us strive to live in such
a way that our prayers may be of avail to help these servants
of God, who, at the cost of so much toil, have fortified
themselves with learning and virtuous living and have laboured
to help the Lord.

You may ask why I emphasize this so much and why I say we must
help people who are better than ourselves. I will tell you,
for I am not sure if you properly understand as yet how much
we owe to the Lord for bringing us to a place where we are so
free from business matters, occasions of sin and the society
of worldly people. This is a very great favour and one which
is not granted to the persons of whom I have been speaking,
nor is it fitting that it should be granted to them; it would
be less so now, indeed, than at any other time, for it is they
who must strengthen the weak and give courage to God’s little
ones. A fine thing it would be for soldiers if they lost their
captains! These preachers and theologians have to live among
men and associate with men and stay in palaces and sometimes
even behave as people in palaces do in outward matters. Do you
think, my daughters, that it is an easy matter to have to do
business with the world, to live in the world, to engage in
the affairs of the world, and, as I have said, to live as
worldly men do, and yet inwardly to be strangers to the world,
and enemies of the world, like persons who are in exile—to
be, in short, not men but angels? Yet unless these persons act
thus, they neither deserve to bear the title of captain nor to
be allowed by the Lord to leave their cells, for they would do
more harm than good. This is no time for imperfections in
those whose duty it is to teach.

And if these teachers are not inwardly fortified by realizing
the great importance of spurning everything beneath their feet
and by being detached from things which come to an end on
earth, and attached to things eternal, they will betray this
defect in themselves, however much they may try to hide it.
For with whom are they dealing but with the world? They need
not fear: the world will not pardon them or fail to observe
their imperfections. Of the good things they do many will pass
unnoticed, or will even not be considered good at all; but
they need not fear that any evil or imperfect thing they do
will be overlooked. I am amazed when I wonder from whom they
learned about perfection, when, instead of practising it
themselves (for they think they have no obligation to do that
and have done quite enough by a reasonable observance of the
Commandments), they condemn others, and at times mistake
virtue for indulgence. Do not think, then, that they need but
little Divine favour in this great battle upon which they have
entered; on the contrary, they need a great deal.

I beg you to try to live in such a way as to be worthy to
obtain two things from God. First, that there may be many of
these very learned and religious men who have the
qualifications for their task which I have described, and that
the Lord may prepare those who are not completely prepared
already and who lack anything, for a single one who
is perfect will do more than many who are not. Secondly, that
after they have entered upon this struggle, which, as I say,
is not light, but a very heavy one, the Lord may have
them in His hand so that they may be delivered from all the
dangers that are in the world, and, while sailing on this
perilous sea, may shut their ears to the song of the sirens.
If we can prevail with God in the smallest degree about this,
we shall be fighting His battle even while living a cloistered
life and I shall consider as well spent all the trouble to
which I have gone in founding this retreat,[16] where I have
also tried to ensure that this Rule of Our Lady and Empress
shall be kept in its original perfection.

Do not think that offering this petition continually is
useless. Some people think it a hardship not to be praying
all the time for their own souls. Yet what better prayer could
there be than this? You may be worried because you think it
will do nothing to lessen your pains in Purgatory, but
actually praying in this way will relieve you of some of them
and anything else that is left—well, let it remain. After
all, what does it matter if I am in Purgatory until the Day of
Judgment provided a single soul should be saved through my
prayer? And how much less does it matter if many souls profit
by it and the Lord is honoured! Make no account of any pain
which has an end if by means of it any greater service can be
rendered to Him Who bore such pains for us. Always try to find
out wherein lies the greatest perfection. And for the love of
the Lord I beg you to beseech His Majesty to hear us in this;
I, miserable creature though I am, beseech this of His
Majesty, since it is for His glory and the good of His Church,
which are my only wishes.

It seems over-bold of me to think that I can do anything
towards obtaining this. But I have confidence, my Lord, in
these servants of Thine who are here, knowing that they
neither desire nor strive after anything but to please Thee.
For Thy sake they have left the little they possessed, wishing
they had more so that they might serve Thee with it. Since
Thou, my Creator, art not ungrateful, I do not think Thou wilt
fail to do what they beseech of Thee, for when Thou wert in
the world, Lord, Thou didst not despise women, but didst
always help them and show them great compassion.[17] Thou didst find more
faith and no less love in them than in men, and one of them
was Thy most sacred Mother, from whose merits we derive
merit, and whose habit we wear, though our sins make us
unworthy to do so.[18]We can do nothing in public that is of
any use to Thee, nor dare we speak of some of the truths
over which we weep in secret lest Thou shouldst not hear
this our just petition. Yet, Lord I cannot believe this of
Thy goodness and righteousness, for Thou art a righteous
Judge, not like judges in the world, who, being, after all,
men and sons of Adam, refuse to consider any woman’s virtue
as above suspicion. Yes, my King, but the day will come
when all will be known. I am not speaking on my own
account, for the whole world is already aware of my
wickedness, and I am glad that it should become known; but,
when I see what the times are like, I feel it is not right
to repel spirits which are virtuous and brave,
even though they be the spirits of women.

Hear us not when we ask Thee for honours, endowments, money,
or anything that has to do with the world; but why shouldst
Thou not hear us, Eternal Father, when we ask only for the
honour of Thy Son, when we would forfeit a thousand honours
and a thousand lives for Thy sake? Not for ourselves, Lord,
for we do not deserve to be heard, but for the blood of Thy
Son and for His merits.

Oh, Eternal Father! Surely all these scourgings and insults
and grievous tortures will not be forgotten. How, then, my
Creator, can a heart so [merciful and] loving as Thine endure
that an act which was performed by Thy Son in order to please
Thee the more (for He loved Thee most deeply and Thou didst
command Him to love us) should be treated as lightly as those
heretics treat the Most Holy Sacrament today, in taking it
from its resting-place when they destroy the churches? Could
it be that [Thy Son and our Redeemer] had failed to do
something to please Thee? No: He fulfilled everything. Was it
not enough, Eternal Father, that while He lived He had no
place to lay His head and had always to endure so many trials?
Must they now deprive Him of the places [19]to
which He can invite His friends, seeing how weak we are and
knowing that those who have to labour need such food to
sustain them? Had He not already more than sufficiently paid
for the sin of Adam? Has this most loving Lamb to pay once
more whenever we relapse into sin? Permit it not, my Emperor;
let Thy Majesty be appeased; look not upon our sins but upon
our redemption by Thy Most Sacred Son, upon His merits and
upon those of His glorious Mother and of all the saints and
martyrs who have died for Thee.

Alas, Lord, who is it that has dared to make this petition in
the name of all? What a poor mediator am I, my daughters, to
gain a hearing for you and to present your petition! When this
Sovereign Judge sees how bold I am it may well move Him to
anger, as would be both right and just. But behold, Lord, Thou
art a God of mercy; have mercy upon this poor sinner, this
miserable worm who is so bold with Thee. Behold my desires, my
God, and the tears with which I beg this of Thee; forget my
deeds, for Thy name’s sake, and have pity upon all these souls
who are being lost, and help Thy Church. Do not permit more
harm to be wrought to Christendom, Lord; give light to this
darkness.

For the love of the Lord, my sisters, I beg you to commend
this poor sinner [20]to His Majesty and to beseech Him to
give her humility, as you are bound to do. I do not charge you
to pray particularly for kings and prelates of the Church,
especially for our Bishop, for I know that those of you now
here are very careful about this and so I think it is needless
for me to say more. Let those who are to come remember that,
if they have a prelate who is holy, those under him will be
holy too, and let them realize how important it is to bring
him continually before the Lord. If your prayers and desires
and disciplines and fasts are not performed for the intentions
of which I have spoken, reflect [and believe] that you are not
carrying out the work or fulfilling the object for which the
Lord has brought you here.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 4

Exhorts the nuns to keep their Rule and names
three things which are important for the spiritual life.
Describes the first of these three things, which is love of
one’s neighbour, and speaks of the harm which can be done by
individual friendships.

Now, daughters, you have looked at the great enterprise which
we are trying to carry out. What kind of persons shall we have
to be if we are not to be considered over-bold in the eyes of
God and of the world? It is clear that we need to labour hard
and it will be a great help to us if we have sublime thoughts
so that we may strive to make our actions sublime also. If we
endeavour to observe our Rule and Constitutions in the fullest
sense, and with great care, I hope in the Lord that He will
grant our requests. I am not asking anything new of you, my
daughters—only that we should hold to our profession,
which, as it is our vocation, we are bound to do, although
there are many ways of holding to it.

Our Primitive Rules tells us to pray without ceasing. Provided
we do this with all possible care (and it is the most
important thing of all) we shall not fail to observe the
fasts, disciplines and periods of silence which the Order
commands; for, as you know, if prayer is to be genuine it must
be reinforced with these things—prayer cannot be
accompanied by self-indulgence.

It is about prayer that you have asked me to say something to
you. As an acknowledgment of what I shall say, I beg you to
read frequently and with a good will what I have said about it
thus far, and to put this into practice. Before speaking of
the interior life—that is, of prayer—I shall speak of
certain things which those who attempt to walk along the way
of prayer must of necessity practise. So necessary are these
that, even though not greatly given to contemplation, people
who have them can advance a long way in the Lord’s service,
while, unless they have them, they cannot possibly be great
contemplatives, and, if they think they are, they are much
mistaken. May the Lord help me in this task and teach me what
I must say, so that it may be to His glory. Amen.

Do not suppose, my friends and sisters, that I am going to
charge you to do a great many things; may it please the Lord
that we do the things which our holy Fathers ordained and
practised and by doing which they merited that name. It would
be wrong of us to look for any other way or to learn from
anyone else. There are only three things which I will explain
at some length and which are taken from our Constitution
itself. It is essential that we should understand how very
important they are to us in helping us to preserve that peace,
both inward and outward, which the Lord so earnestly
recommended to us. One of these is love for each other; the
second, detachment from all created things; the third, true
humility, which, although I put it last, is the most important
of the three and embraces all the rest.

With regard to the first—namely, love for each other—
this is of very great importance; for there is nothing,
however annoying, that cannot easily be borne by those who
love each other, and anything which causes annoyance must be
quite exceptional. If this commandment were kept in the world,
as it should be, I believe it would take us a long way towards
the keeping of the rest; but, what with having too much love
for each other or too little, we never manage to keep it
perfectly. It may seem that for us to have too much love for
each other cannot be wrong, but I do not think anyone who had
not been an eye-witness of it would believe how much evil and
how many imperfections can result from this. The devil sets
many snares here which the consciences of those who aim only
in a rough-and-ready way at pleasing God seldom observe—
indeed, they think they are acting virtuously—but those who
are aiming at perfection understand what they are very well:
little by little they deprive the will of the strength which
it needs if it is to employ itself wholly in the love of
God.

This is even more applicable to women than to men and the harm
which it does to community life is very serious. One result of
it is that all the nuns do not love each other equally: some
injury done to a friend is resented; a nun desires to have
something to give to her friend or tries to make time for
talking to her, and often her object in doing this is to tell
her how fond she is of her, and other irrelevant things,
rather than how much she loves God. These intimate friendships
are seldom calculated [21]to make for the
love of God; I am more inclined to believe that the devil
initiates them so as to create factions within religious
Orders. When a friendship has for its object the service of
His Majesty, it at once becomes clear that the will is devoid
of passion and indeed is helping to conquer other
passions.

Where a convent is large I should like to see many friendships
of that type; but in this house, where there are not, and can
never be, more than thirteen nuns, all must be friends with
each other, love each other, be fond of each other and help
each other. For the love of the Lord, refrain from making
individual friendships, however holy, for even among brothers
and sisters such things are apt to be poisonous and I can see
no advantage in them; when they are between other relatives,
[22]they are much more dangerous and
become a pest. Believe me, sisters, though I may seem to you
extreme in this, great perfection and great peace come of
doing what I say and many occasions of sin may be avoided by
those who are not very strong. If our will becomes inclined
more to one person than to another (this cannot be helped,
because it is natural—it often leads us to love the person
who has the most faults if she is the most richly endowed by
nature), we must exercise a firm restraint on ourselves and
not allow ourselves to be conquered by our affection. Let us
love the virtues and inward goodness, and let us always apply
ourselves and take care to avoid attaching importance to
externals.

Let us not allow our will to be the slave of any, sisters,
save of Him Who bought it with His blood. Otherwise, before we
know where we are, we shall find ourselves trapped, and unable
to move. God help me! The puerilities which result from this
are innumerable. And, because they are so trivial that only
those who see how bad they are will realize and believe it,
there is no point in speaking of them here except to say that
they are wrong in anyone, and, in a prioress,
pestilential.

In checking these preferences we must be strictly on the alert
from the moment that such a friendship begins and we must
proceed diligently and lovingly rather than severely. One
effective precaution against this is that the sisters should
not be together except at the prescribed hours, and that they
should follow our present custom in not talking with one
another, or being alone together, as is laid down in the Rule:
each one should be alone in her cell. There must be no
workroom at Saint Joseph’s; for, although it is a praiseworthy
custom to have one, it is easier to keep silence if one is
alone, and getting used to solitude is a great help to prayer.
Since prayer must be the foundation on which this house is
built, it is necessary for us to learn to like whatever gives
us the greatest help in it.

Returning to the question of our love for one another, it
seems quite unnecessary to commend this to you, for where are
there people so brutish as not to love one another when they
live together, are continually in one another’s company,
indulge in no conversation, association or recreation with any
outside their house and believe that God loves us and that
they themselves love God since they are leaving everything for
His Majesty? More especially is this so as virtue always
attracts love, and I hope in God that, with the help of His
Majesty, there will always be love in the sisters of this
house. It seems to me, therefore, that there is no reason for
me to commend this to you any further.

With regard to the nature of this mutual love and what is
meant by the virtuous love which I wish you to have here, and
how we shall know when we have this virtue, which is a very
great one, since Our Lord has so strongly commended it to us
and so straitly enjoined it upon His Apostles—about all
this I should like to say a little now as well as my lack of
skill will allow me; if you find this explained in great
detail in other books, take no notice of what I am saying
here, for it may be that I do not understand what I am talking
about.

There are two kinds of love which I am describing. The one is
purely spiritual, and apparently has nothing to do
with sensuality or the tenderness of our nature, either of
which might stain its purity. The other is also spiritual, but
mingled with it are our sensuality and weakness; [23]yet it is a worthy
love, which, as between relatives and friends, seems lawful.
Of this I have already said sufficient.

It is of the first kind of spiritual love that I would now
speak. It is untainted by any sort of passion, for such
a thing would completely spoil its harmony. If it leads us to
treat virtuous people, especially confessors, with moderation
and discretion, it is profitable; but, if the confessor is
seen to be tending in any way towards vanity, he should be
regarded with grave suspicion, and, in such a case,
conversation with him, however edifying, should be avoided,
and the sister should make her confession briefly and say
nothing more. It would be best for her, indeed, to tell the
superior that she does not get on with him and go elsewhere;
this is the safest way, providing it can be done without
injuring his reputation.[24]

In such cases, and in other difficulties with which the devil
might ensnare us, so that we have no idea where to turn, the
safest thing will be for the sister to try to speak with some
learned person; if necessary, permission to do this can be
given her, and she can make her confession to him and act in
the matter as he directs her. For he cannot fail to give her
some good advice about it, without which she might go very far
astray. How often people stray through not taking advice,
especially when there is a risk of doing someone harm! The
course that must on no account be followed is to do nothing at
all; for, when the devil begins to make trouble in this way,
he will do a great deal of harm if he is not stopped quickly;
the plan I have suggested, then, of trying to consult another
confessor is the safest one if it is practicable, and I hope
in the Lord that it will be so.

Reflect upon the great importance of this, for it is
a dangerous matter, and can be a veritable hell, and a source
of harm to everyone. I advise you not to wait until a great
deal of harm has been done but to take every possible step
that you can think of and stop the trouble at the outset; this
you may do with a good conscience. But I hope in the Lord that
He will not allow persons who are to spend their lives in
prayer to have any attachment save to one who is a great
servant of God; and I am quite certain He will not, unless
they have no love for prayer and for striving after perfection
in the way we try to do here. For, unless they see that he
understands their language and likes to speak to them of God,
they cannot possibly love him, as he is not like them. If he
is such a person, he will have very few opportunities of doing
any harm, and, unless he is very simple, he will not seek to
disturb his own peace of mind and that of the servants of
God.

As I have begun to speak about this, I will repeat that the
devil can do a great deal of harm here, which will long remain
undiscovered, and thus the soul that is striving after
perfection can be gradually ruined without knowing how. For,
if a confessor gives occasion for vanity through being vain
himself, he will be very tolerant with it in [the consciences
of] others. May God, for His Majesty’s own sake, deliver us
from things of this kind. It would be enough to unsettle all
the nuns if their consciences and their confessor should give
them exactly opposite advice, and, if it is insisted that they
must have one confessor only, they will not know what to do,
nor how to pacify their minds, since the very person who
should be calming them and helping them is the source of the
harm. In some places there must be a great deal of trouble of
this kind: I always feel very sorry about it and so you must
not be surprised if I attach great importance to your
understanding this danger.

Appendix To Chapter 4

The following variant reading of the Escorial Manuscript seems
too important to be relegated to a footnote. It occurs the
twelfth paragraph of ch. 4 (cf. n. 24) , and deals, as will be
seen, with the qualifications and character of the confessor.
Many editors substitute it in their text for the corresponding
passage in V. As will be seen, however, it is not a pure
addition; we therefore reproduce it separately.

The important thing is that these two kinds of mutual love
should be untainted by any sort of passion, for such a thing
would completely spoil this harmony. If we exercise this love,
of which I have spoken, with moderation and discretion, it is
wholly meritorious, because what seems to us sensuality is
turned into virtue. But the two may be so closely intertwined
with one another that it is sometimes impossible to
distinguish them, especially where a confessor is concerned.
For if persons who are practising prayer find that their
confessor is a holy man and understands the way they behave,
they become greatly attached to him. And then forthwith the
devil lets loose upon them a whole battery of scruples which
produce a terrible disturbance within the soul, this being
what he is aiming at. In particular, if the confessor is
guiding such persons to greater perfection, they become so
depressed that they will go so far as to leave him for another
and yet another, only to be tormented by the same temptation
every time.

What you can do here is not to let your minds dwell upon
whether you like your confessor or not, but just to like him
if you feel so inclined. For, if we grow fond of people who
are kind to our bodies, why should we not love those who are
always striving and toiling to help our souls? Actually, if my
confessor is a holy and spiritual man and I see that he is
taking great pains for the benefit of my soul, I think it will
be a real help to my progress for me to like him. For so weak
are we that such affection sometimes helps us a great deal to
undertake very great things in God’s service.

But, if your confessor is not such a person as I have
described, there is a possibility of danger, and for him to
know that you like him may do the greatest harm, most of all
in houses where the nuns are very strictly enclosed. And as it
is a difficult thing to get to know which confessors are good,
great care and caution are necessary. The best advice to give
would be that you should see he has no idea of your affection
for him and is not told about it. But the devil is so active
that this is not practicable: you feel as if this is the only
thing you have to confess and imagine you are obliged to
confess it. For this reason I should like you to think that
your affection for him is of no importance and to take no more
notice of it.

Follow this advice if you find that everything your confessor
says to you profits your soul; if you neither see nor hear him
indulge in any vanity (and such things are always noticed
except by one who is wilfully dull) and if you know him to be
a God-fearing man, do not be distressed over any temptation
about being too fond of him, and the devil will then grow
tired and stop tempting you. But if you notice that the
confessor is tending in any way towards vanity in what he says
to you, you should regard him with grave suspicion; in such
a case conversation with him, even about prayer and about God,
should be avoided—the sister should make her confession
briefly and say nothing more. It would be best for her to tell
the Mother (Superior) that she does not get on with him and go
elsewhere. This is the safest way if it is practicable, and
I hope in God that it will be, and that you will do all you
possibly can to have no relations with him, though this may be
very painful for you.

Reflect upon the great importance of this, etc. (pp.
58-9).

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 5

Continues speaking of confessors. Explains why
it is important that they should be learned men.

May the Lord grant, for His Majesty’s own sake, that no one in
this house shall experience the trials that have been
described, or find herself oppressed in this way in soul and
body. I hope the superior will never be so intimate with the
confessor that no one will dare to say anything about him to
her or about her to him. For this will tempt
unfortunate penitents to leave very grave sins
unconfessed because they will feel uncomfortable about
confessing them. God help me! What trouble the devil can make
here and how dearly people have to pay for their
miserable worries and concern about honour! If they
consult only one confessor, they think they are acting in the
interests of their Order and for the greater honour
of their convent: and that is the way the devil lays his
snares for souls when he can find no other. If the
poor sisters ask for another confessor, they are told
that this would mean the complete end of all
discipline in the convent; and, if he is not a priest of their
Order, even though he be a saint, they are led to believe that
they would be disgracing their entire Order by consulting
him.

Give great praise to God, Daughters, for this liberty that
you have, for, though there are not a great many priests
whom you can consult, there are a few, other than your
ordinary confessors, who can give you light upon
everything. I beg every superior, [25]for
the love of the Lord, to allow a holy liberty here: let the
Bishop or Provincial be approached for leave for the sisters
to go from time to time beyond their ordinary confessors and
talk about their souls with persons of learning, especially if
the confessors, though good men, have no learning; for
learning is a great help in giving light upon everything. It
should be possible to find a number of people who combine both
learning and spirituality, and the more favours the Lord
grants you in prayer, the more needful is it that your good
works and your prayers should have a sure foundation.

You already know that the first stone of this foundation must
be a good conscience and that you must make every effort to
free yourselves from even venial sins and follow the greatest
possible perfection. You might suppose that any confessor
would know this, but you would be wrong: it happened that
I had to go about matters of consciences to a man who had
taken a complete course in theology; and he did me a great
deal of mischief by telling me that certain things were of no
importance. I know that he had no intention of deceiving me,
or any reason for doing so: it was simply that he knew no
better. And in addition to this instance I have met with two
or three similar ones.

Everything depends on our having true light to keep the law of
God perfectly. This is a firm basis for prayer; but without
this strong foundation the whole building will go awry. In
making their confessions, then, the nuns must be free to
discuss spiritual matters with such persons as I have
described. I will even go farther and say that they should
sometimes do as I have said even if their confessor has all
these good qualities, for he may quite easily make mistakes
and it is a pity that he should be the cause of their going
astray. They must try, however, never to act in any way
against obedience, for they will find ways of getting all the
help they need: it is of great importance to them that they
should, and so they must make every possible effort to do
so.

All this that I have said has to do with the superior. Since
there are no consolations but spiritual ones to be had here,
I would beg her once again to see that the sisters get these
consolations, for God leads [His handmaidens] by different
ways and it is impossible that one confessor should be
acquainted with them all. I assure you that, if your souls are
as they ought to be, there is no lack of holy persons who will
be glad to advise and console you, even though you are poor.
For He Who sustains our bodies will awaken and encourage
someone to give light to our souls, and thus this evil of
which I am so much afraid will be remedied. For if the devil
should tempt the confessor, with the result that he leads you
astray on any point of doctrine he will go slowly and be more
careful about all he is doing when he knows that the penitent
is also consulting others.

If the devil is prevented from entering convents in this way,
I hope in God that he will never get into this house at all;
so, for love of the Lord, I beg whoever is Bishop to allow the
sisters this liberty and not to withdraw it so long as the
confessors are persons both of learning and of good lives,
a fact which will soon come to be known in a little place like
this.

In what I have said here, I am speaking from experience of
things that I have seen and heard in many convents
and gathered from conversation with learned and holy people
who have considered what is most fitting for this house, so
that it may advance in perfection. Among the perils which
exist everywhere, for as long as life lasts, we shall find
that this is the least. No vicar should be free to go in and
out of the convent, and no confessor should have this freedom
either. They are there to watch over the recollectedness and
good living of the house and its progress in both interior and
exterior matters, so that they may report to the superior
whenever needful, but they are never to be superiors
themselves. As I say, excellent reasons have been found
why, everything considered, this is the best course, and
why, if any priest hears confessions frequently, it should
be the chaplain; but, if the nuns think it necessary, they
can make their confessions to such persons as have been
described, provided the superior is informed of it, and the
prioress is such that the Bishop can trust her discretion.
As there are very few nuns here, this will not take up much
time.

This is our present practice; and it is not followed merely on
my advice. Our present Bishop, Don Álvaro de Mendoza, under
whose obedience we live (since for many reasons we have not
been placed under the jurisdiction of the Order), is greatly
attached to holiness and the religious life, and, besides
being of most noble extraction, is a great servant of God. He
is always very glad to help this house in every way, and to
this very end he brought together persons of learning,
spirituality and experience, and this decision was then come
to. It will be only right that future superiors should conform
to his opinion, since it has been decided on by such good men,
and after so many prayers to the Lord that He would enlighten
them in every possible way, which, so far as we can at present
see, He has certainly done. May the Lord be pleased to promote
the advancement of this to His greater glory. Amen.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 6

Returns to the subject of perfect love,
already begun.

I have digressed a great deal but no one will blame me who
understands the importance of what has been said. Let us now
return to the love which it is good [and lawful] for us to
feel. This I have described as purely spiritual; I am not sure
if I know what I am talking about, but it seems to me that
there is no need to speak much of it, since so few, I fear,
possess it; let any one of you to whom the Lord has given it
praise Him fervently, for she must be a person of the greatest
perfection. It is about this that I now wish to write. Perhaps
what I say may be of some profit, for if you look at a virtue
you desire it and try to gain it, and so become attached to
it.

God grant that I may be able to understand this, and even more
that I may be able to describe it, for I am not sure that
I know when love is spiritual and when there is sensuality
mingled with it, or how to begin speaking about it. I am like
one who hears a person speaking in the distance and,
though he can hear that he is speaking, cannot
distinguish what he is saying. It is just like that with me:
sometimes I cannot understand what I am saying, yet the Lord
is pleased to enable me to say it well. If at other times what
I say is [ridiculous and] nonsensical, it is only natural for
me to go completely astray.

Now it seems to me that, when God has brought someone to
a clear knowledge of the world, and of its nature, and of the
fact that another world (or, let us say, another
kingdom) exists, and that there is a great difference
between the one and the other, the one being eternal and the
other only a dream; and of what it is to love the Creator and
what to love the creature (this must be discovered by
experience, for it is a very different matter from merely
thinking about it and believing it); when one understands by
sight and experience what can be gained by the one practice
and lost by the other, and what the Creator is and what the
creature, and many other things which the Lord teaches to
those who are willing to devote themselves to being taught by
Him in prayer, or whom His Majesty wishes to teach—then one
loves very differently from those of us who have not advanced
thus far.

It may be, sisters, that you think it irrelevant for me to
treat of this, and you may say that you already know
everything that I have said. God grant that this may be so,
and that you may indeed know it in the only way which has any
meaning, and that it may be graven upon your inmost being,
and that you may never for a moment depart from it,
for, if you know it, you will see that I am telling nothing
but the truth when I say that he whom the Lord brings thus far
possesses this love. Those whom God brings to this state are,
I think, generous and royal souls; they are not
content with loving anything so miserable as these bodies,
however beautiful they be and however numerous the graces they
possess. If the sight of the body gives them pleasure they
praise the Creator, but as for dwelling upon it for more
than just a moment—no! When I use that phrase
“dwelling upon it”, I refer to having love for such things. If
they had such love, they would think they were loving
something insubstantial and were conceiving fondness for
a shadow, they would feel shame for themselves and would not
have the effrontery to tell God that they love Him, without
feeling great confusion.

You will answer me that such persons cannot love or repay the
affection shown to them by others. Certainly they care little
about having this affection. They may from time to time
experience a natural and momentary pleasure at being loved;
yet, as soon as they return to their normal condition, they
realize that such pleasure is folly save when the persons
concerned can benefit their souls, either by instruction or by
prayer. Any other kind of affection wearies them, for they
know it can bring them no profit and may well do them harm;
none the less they are grateful for it and recompense it by
commending those who love them to God. They take this
affection as something for which those who love them lay the
responsibility upon the Lord, from Whom, since they can see
nothing lovable in themselves, they suppose the love comes,
and think that others love them because God loves them; and so
they leave His Majesty to recompense them for this and beg Him
to do so, thus freeing themselves and feeling they have no
more responsibility. When I ponder it carefully, I sometimes
think this desire for affection is sheer blindness, except
when, as I say, it relates to persons who can lead us to do
good so that we may gain blessings in perfection.

It should be noted here that, when we desire anyone’s
affection, we always seek it because of some interest, profit
or pleasure of our own. Those who are perfect, however, have
trodden all these things beneath their feet—[and have
despised] the blessings which may come to them in this world,
and its pleasures and delights—in such a way that, even if
they wanted to, so to say, they could not love anything
outside God, or unless it had to do with God. What profit,
then, can come to them from being loved themselves?

When this truth is put to them, they laugh at the distress
which had been assailing them in the past as to whether their
affection was being returned or no. Of course, however pure
our affection may be, it is quite natural for us to wish it to
be returned. But, when we come to evaluate the return of
affection, we realize that it is insubstantial, like a thing
of straw, as light as air and easily carried away by the wind.
For, however dearly we have been loved, what is there that
remains to us? Such persons, then, except for the advantage
that the affection may bring to their souls (because they
realize that our nature is such that we soon tire of life
without love), care nothing whether they are loved or not. Do
you think that such persons will love none and delight in none
save God? No; they will love others much more than they did,
with a more genuine love, with greater passion and with a love
which brings more profit; that, in a word, is what love really
is. And such souls are always much fonder of giving than of
receiving, even in their relations with the Creator Himself.
This [holy affection], I say, merits the name of love, which
name has been usurped from it by those other base
affections.

Do you ask, again, by what they are attracted if they do not
love things they see? They do love what they see and they are
greatly attracted by what they hear; but the things which they
see are everlasting. If they love anyone they immediately look
right beyond the body (on which, as I say, they cannot
dwell), fix their eyes on the soul and see what there
is to be loved in that. If there is nothing, but they see any
suggestion or inclination which shows them that, if they dig
deep, they will find gold within this mine, they think nothing
of the labour of digging, since they have love. There is
nothing that suggests itself to them which they will not
willingly do for the good of that soul since they desire their
love for it to be lasting, and they know quite well that that
is impossible unless the loved one has certain good qualities
and a great love for God. I really mean that it is impossible,
however great their obligations and even if that soul were to
die for love of them and do them all the kind actions in its
power; even had it all the natural graces joined in one, their
wills would not have strength enough to love it nor would they
remain fixed upon it. They know and have learned and
experienced the worth of all this; no false dice can deceive
them. They see that they are not in unison with that soul and
that their love for it cannot possibly last; for, unless that
soul keeps the law of God, their love will end with life—
they know that unless it loves Him they will go to different
places.

Those into whose souls the Lord has already infused true
wisdom do not esteem this love, which lasts only on earth, at
more than its true worth—if, indeed, at so much. Those who
like to take pleasure in worldly things, delights, honours and
riches, will account it of some worth if their friend is rich
and able to afford them pastime and pleasure and
recreation; but those who already hate all this will care
little or nothing for such things. If they have any love for
such a person, then, it will be a passion that he may love God
so as to be loved by Him; for, as I say, they know that no
other kind of affection but this can last, and that this kind
will cost them dear, for which reason they do all they
possibly can for their friend’s profit; they would lose
a thousand lives to bring him a small blessing. Oh, precious
love, forever imitating the Captain of Love, Jesus, our
Good!

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 7

Treats of the same subject of spiritual love
and gives certain counsels for gaining it.

It is strange to see how impassioned this love is; how many
tears, penances and prayers it costs; how careful is the
loving soul to commend the object of its affection to all who
it thinks may prevail with God and to ask them to intercede
with Him for it; and how constant is its longing, so that it
cannot be happy unless it sees that its loved one is making
progress. If that soul seems to have advanced, and is then
seen to fall some way back, her friend seems to have no more
pleasure in life: she neither eats nor sleeps, is never free
from this fear and is always afraid that the soul whom she
loves so much may be lost, and that the two may be parted for
ever. She cares nothing for physical death, but she will not
suffer herself to be attached to something which a puff of
wind may carry away so that she is unable to retain her hold
upon it. This, as I have said, is love without any degree
whatsoever of self-interest; all that this soul wishes and
desires is to see the soul [it loves] enriched with blessings
from Heaven. This is love, quite unlike our ill-starred
earthly affections—to say nothing of illicit affections,
from which may God keep us free.

These last affections are a very hell, and it is needless for
us to weary ourselves by saying how evil they are, for the
least of the evils which they bring are terrible beyond
exaggeration. There is no need for us ever to take such things
upon our lips, sisters, or even to think of them, or
to remember that they exist anywhere in the world; you must
never listen to anyone speaking of such affections, either in
jest or in earnest, nor allow them to be mentioned or
discussed in your presence. No good can come from our doing
this and it might do us harm even to hear them mentioned. But
with regard to the lawful affections which, as I have said, we
may have for each other, or for relatives and friends, it is
different. Our whole desire is that they should not die: if
their heads ache, our souls seem to ache too; if we see them
in distress, we are unable (as people say) to sit still under
it; [26]and so on.

This is not so with spiritual affection. Although the weakness
of our nature may at first allow us to feel something of all
this, our reason soon begins to reflect whether our friend’s
trials are not good for her, and to wonder if they are making
her richer in virtue and how she is bearing them, and then we
shall ask God to give her patience so that they may win her
merit. If we see that she is being patient, we feel no
distress—indeed, we are gladdened and consoled. If all the
merit and gain which suffering is capable of producing could
be made over to her, we should still prefer suffering her
trial ourselves to seeing her suffer it, but we are not
worried or disquieted.

I repeat once more that this love is a similitude and copy of
that which was borne for us by the good Lover, Jesus. It is
for that reason that it brings us such immense benefits, for
it makes us embrace every kind of suffering, so that others,
without having to endure the suffering, may gain its
advantages. The recipients of this friendship, then, profit
greatly, but their friends should realize that either this
intercourse—I mean, this exclusive friendship—must come
to an end or that they must prevail upon Our Lord that their
friend may walk in the same way as themselves, as Saint Monica
prevailed with Him for Saint Augustine. Their heart does not
allow them to practise duplicity: if they see their friend
straying from the road, or committing any faults, they will
speak to her about it; they cannot allow themselves to do
anything else. And if after this the loved one does not
amend, they will not flatter her or hide anything from her.
Either, then, she will amend or their friendship will cease;
for otherwise they would be unable to endure it, nor is it in
fact endurable. It would mean continual war for both parties.
A person may be indifferent to all other people in the world
and not worry whether they are serving God or not, since the
person she has to worry about is herself. But she cannot take
this attitude with her friends: nothing they do can be hidden
from her; she sees the smallest mote in them. This, I repeat,
is a very heavy cross for her to bear.

Happy the souls that are loved by such as these! Happy the
day on which they came to know them! O my Lord, wilt Thou
not grant me the favour of giving me many who have such
love for me? Truly, Lord, I would rather have this than be
loved by all the kings and lords of the world—and
rightly so, for such friends use every means in their power
to make us lords of the whole world and to have all that is
in it subject to us. When you make the acquaintance of any
such persons, sisters, the Mother Prioress should employ
every possible effort to keep you in touch with them. Love
such persons as much as you like. There can be very few of
them, but none the less it is the Lord’s will that their
goodness should be known. When one of you is striving after
perfection, she will at once be told that she has no need
to know such people—that it is enough for her to have
God. But to get to know God’s friends is a very good way of
“having” Him; as I have discovered by experience, it is
most helpful. For, under the Lord, I owe it to such persons
that I am not in hell; I was always very fond of asking
them to commend me to God, and so I prevailed upon them to
do so.

Let us now return to what we were saying. It is this
kind of love which I should like us to have; at first it may
not be perfect but the Lord will make it increasingly so. Let
us begin with the methods of obtaining it. At first it may be
mingled with emotion, [27]but this, as a rule,
will do no harm. It is sometimes good and necessary for us to
show emotion in our love, and also to feel it, and to be
distressed by some of our sisters, trials and weaknesses,
however trivial they may be. For on one occasion as much
distress may be caused by quite a small matter as would be
caused on another by some great trial, and there are people
whose nature it is to be very much cast down by small things.
If you are not like this, do not neglect to have compassion on
others; it may be that Our Lord wishes to spare us these
sufferings and will give us sufferings of another kind which
will seem heavy to us, though to the person already mentioned
they may seem light. In these matters, then, we must not judge
others by ourselves, nor think of ourselves as we have been at
some time when, perhaps without any effort on our part, the
Lord has made us stronger than they; let us think of what we
were like at the times when we have been weakest.

Note the importance of this advice for those of us who would
learn to sympathize with our neighbours’ trials, however
trivial these may be. It is especially important for such
souls as have been described, for, desiring trials as they do,
they make light of them all. They must therefore try hard to
recall what they were like when they were weak, and reflect
that, if they are no longer so, it is not due to themselves.
For otherwise, little by little, the devil could easily cool
our charity toward our neighbours and make us think that what
is really a failing on our part is perfection. In every
respect we must be careful and alert, for the devil never
slumbers. And the nearer we are to perfection, the more
careful we must be, since his temptations are then much more
cunning because there are no others that he dare send us; and
if, as I say, we are not cautious, the harm is done before we
realize it. In short, we must always watch and pray, for there
is no better way than prayer of revealing these hidden wiles
of the devil and making him declare his presence.

Contrive always, even if you do not care for it, to take part
in your sisters’ necessary recreation and to do so for the
whole of the allotted time, for all considerate treatment of
them is a part of perfect love. It is a very good thing for us
to take compassion on each others’ needs. See that you show no
lack of discretion about things which are contrary to
obedience. Though privately you may think the prioress’ orders
harsh ones, do not allow this to be noticed or tell anyone
about it (except that you may speak of it, with all humility,
to the prioress herself), for if you did so you would be doing
a great deal of harm. Get to know what are the things in your
sisters which you should be sorry to see and those about which
you should sympathize with them; and always show your grief at
any notorious fault which you may see in one of them. It is
a good proof and test of our love if we can bear with such
faults and not be shocked by them. Others, in their turn, will
bear with your faults, which, if you include those of which
you are not aware, must be much more numerous. Often commend
to God any sister who is at fault and strive for your own part
to practise the virtue which is the opposite of her fault with
great perfection. Make determined efforts to do this so that
you may teach your sister by your deeds what perhaps she could
never learn by words nor gain by punishment.

The habit of performing some conspicuously virtuous action
through seeing it performed by another is one which very
easily takes root. This is good advice: do not forget it. Oh,
how true and genuine will be the love of a sister who can
bring profit to everyone by sacrificing her own profit to that
of the rest! She will make a great advance in each of the
virtues and keep her Rule with great perfection. This will be
a much truer kind of friendship than one which uses every
possible loving expression (such as are not used, and must not
be used, in this house): “My life!” “My love!” “My darling!”
[28]and suchlike things, one or another of which
people are always saying. Let such endearing words be kept for
your Spouse, for you will be so often and so much alone With
Him that you will want to make use of them all, and this His
Majesty permits you. If you use them among yourselves they
will not move the Lord so much; and, quite apart from that,
there is no reason why you should do so. They are very
effeminate; and I should not like you to be that, or even to
appear to be that, in any way, my daughters; I want you to be
strong men. If you do all that is in you, the Lord will make
you so manly that men themselves will be amazed at you. And
how easy is this for His Majesty, Who made us out of nothing
at all!

It is also a very clear sign of love to try to spare others
household work by taking it upon oneself and also to rejoice
and give great praise to the Lord if you see any increase in
their virtues. All such things, quite apart from the intrinsic
good they bring, add greatly to the peace and concord which we
have among ourselves, as, through the goodness of God, We can
now see by experience. May His Majesty be pleased ever to
increase it, for it would be terrible if it did not exist, and
very awkward if, when there are so few of us, we got on badly
together. May God forbid that.

If one of you should be cross with another because of some
hasty word, the matter must at once be put right and you must
betake yourselves to earnest prayer. The same applies to the
harbouring of any grudge, or to party strife, or to the desire
to be greatest, or to any nice point concerning your honour.
(My blood seems to run cold, as I write this, at the very idea
that this can ever happen, but I know it is the chief trouble
in convents.) If it should happen to you, consider yourselves
lost. Just reflect and realize that you have driven your
Spouse from His home: He will have to go and seek another
abode, since you are driving Him from His own house. Cry aloud
to His Majesty and try to put things right; and if frequent
confessions and communions do not mend them, you may well fear
that there is some Judas among you.

For the love of God, let the prioress be most careful not to
allow this to occur. She must put a stop to it from the very
outset, and, if love will not suffice, she must use heavy
punishments, for here we have the whole of the
mischief and the remedy. If you gather that any of the nuns is
making trouble, see that she is sent to some other convent and
God will provide them with a dowry for her. Drive away this
plague; cut off the branches as well as you can; and, if that
is not sufficient, pull up the roots. If you cannot do this,
shut up anyone who is guilty of such things and forbid her to
leave her cell; far better this than that all the nuns should
catch so incurable a plague. Oh, what a great evil is this!
God deliver us from a convent into which it enters: I would
rather our convent caught fire and we were all burned alive.
As this is so important I think I shall say a little more
about it elsewhere, so I will not write at greater length
here, except to say that, provided they treat each other
equally, I would rather that the nuns showed a tender and
affectionate love and regard for each other, even though
there is less perfection in this than in the love I have
described, than that there were a single note of discord to
be heard among them. May the Lord forbid this, for His own
sake. Amen.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 8

Treats of the great benefit of
self-detachment, both interior and exterior, from all things
created.

Let us now come to the detachment which we must practise, for
if this is carried out perfectly it includes everything else.
I say “it includes everything else” because, if we care
nothing for any created things, but embrace the Creator alone,
His Majesty will infuse the virtues into us in such a way
that, provided we labour to the best of our abilities day by
day, we shall not have to wage war much longer, for the Lord
will take our defence in hand against the devils and against
the whole world. Do you suppose, daughters, that it is a small
benefit to obtain for ourselves this blessing of giving
ourselves wholly to Him, [29]and keeping nothing for ourselves?
Since, as I say, all blessings are in Him, let us give Him
hearty praise, sisters, for having brought us together here,
where we are occupied in this alone. I do not know why I am
saying this, when all of you here are capable of teaching me,
for I confess that, in this important respect, I am not as
perfect as I should like to be and as I know I ought to be;
and I must say the same about all the virtues and about all
that I am dealing with here, for it is easier to write of such
things than to practise them. I may not even be able to write
of them effectively, for sometimes ability to do this comes
only from experience—[that is to say, if I have any
success, it must be because] I explain the nature of these
virtues by describing the contraries of the qualities I myself
possess.

As far as exterior matters are concerned, you know how
completely cut off we are from everything. Oh, my Creator
and Lord! When have I merited so great an honour? Thou
seemest to have searched everywhere for means of drawing
nearer to us. May it please Thy goodness that we lose not
this through our own fault. Oh, sisters, for the love
of God, try to realize what a great favour the Lord has
bestowed on those of us whom He has brought here. Let each of
you apply this to herself, since there are only twelve of us
[30]and
His Majesty has been pleased for you to be one. How many
people—what a multitude of people!—do I know
who are better than myself and would gladly take this place of
mine, yet the Lord has granted it to me who so ill deserve it!
Blessed be Thou, my God, and let the angels and all
created things praise Thee, for I can no more repay this
favour than all the others Thou hast shown me. It was
a wonderful thing to give me the vocation to be a nun; but
I have been so wicked, Lord, that Thou couldst not trust me.
In a place where there were many good women living together my
wickedness would not perhaps have been noticed right
down to the end of my life: I should have concealed it, as
I did for so many years. So Thou didst bring me here,
where, as there are so few of us that it would seem impossible
for it to remain unnoticed, Thou dost remove occasions of sin
from me so that I may walk the more carefully. There is no
excuse for me, then, O Lord, I confess it, and so I have need
of Thy mercy, that Thou mayest pardon me.

Remember, my sisters, that if we are not good we are much
more to blame than others. What I earnestly beg of you
is that anyone who knows she will be unable to follow our
customs will say so [before she is professed]: there are other
convents in which the Lord is also well served and she should
not remain here and disturb these few of us whom His Majesty
has brought together for His service. In other
convents nuns are free to have the pleasure of seeing their
relatives, whereas here, if relatives are ever admitted, it is
only for their own pleasure. A nun who [very much] wishes to
see her relatives in order to please herself, and does not
get tired of them after the second visit, must, unless
they are spiritual persons and do her soul some good,
consider herself imperfect and realize that she is neither
detached nor healthy, and will have no freedom of spirit or
perfect peace. She needs a physician—and I consider that if
this desire does not leave her, and she is not cured, she is
not intended for this house.

The best remedy, I think, is that she should not see her
relatives again until she feels free in spirit and has
obtained this freedom from God by many prayers. When she looks
upon such visits as crosses, let her receive them by all
means, for then they will do the visitors good and herself no
harm. But if she is fond of the visitors, if their
troubles are a great distress to her and if she delights in
listening to the stories which they tell her about the
world, she may be sure that she will do herself harm and do
them no good.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 9

Treats of the great blessing that shunning
their relatives brings to those who have left the world and
shows how by doing so they will find truer friends.

Oh, if we religious understood what harm we get from having so
much to do with our relatives, how we should shun them! do not
see what pleasure they can give us, or how, quite apart from
the harm they do us as touching our obligations to
God, they can bring us any peace or tranquillity. For we
cannot take part in their recreations, as it is not lawful for
us to do so; and, though we can certainly share their
troubles, we can never help weeping for them, sometimes more
than they do themselves. If they bring us any bodily comforts,
there is no doubt that our spiritual life and our poor
souls will pay for it. From this you are [quite] free
here; for, as you have everything in common and none of you
may accept any private gift, all the alms given us being held
by the community, you are under no obligation to entertain
your relatives in return for what they give you, since, as you
know, the Lord will provide for us all in common.

I am astounded at the harm which intercourse with our
relatives does us: I do not think anyone who had not
experience of it would believe it. And how our religious
Orders nowadays, or most of them, at any rate, seem
to be forgetting about perfection, though all, or most, of
the saints wrote about it! I do not know how much of
the world we really leave when we say that we are leaving
everything for God’s sake, if we do not withdraw ourselves
from the chief thing of all—namely, our kinsfolk. The
matter has reached such a pitch that some people think, when
religious are not fond of their relatives and do not see much
of them, it shows a want of virtue in them. And they not only
assert this but allege reasons for it.

In this house, daughters, we must be most careful to commend
our relatives to God, for that is only right. For the rest, we
must keep them out of our minds as much as we can, as it is
natural that our desires should be attached to them more than
to other people. My own relatives were very fond of me, or so
they used to say, and I was so fond of them that I would not
let them forget me. But I have learned, by my own experience
and by that of others, that it is God’s servants who have
helped me in trouble; my relatives, apart from my parents,
have helped me very little. Parents are different, for they
very rarely fail to help their children, and it is right that
when they need our comfort we should not refuse it them: if we
find our main purpose is not harmed by our so doing we can
give it them and yet be completely detached; and this also
applies to brothers and sisters.

Believe me, sisters, if you serve God as you should, you will
find no better relatives than those [of His servants] whom His
Majesty sends you. I know this is so, and, if you keep on as
you are doing here, and realize that by doing
otherwise you will be failing your true Friend and Spouse, you
may be sure that you will very soon gain this freedom. Then
you will be able to trust those who love you for His sake
alone more than all your relatives, and they will not fail
you, so that you will find parents and brothers and sisters
where you had never expected to find them. For these help us
and look for their reward only from God; those who look for
rewards from us soon grow tired of helping us when they see
that we are poor and can do nothing for them. This cannot be
taken as a generalization, but it is the most usual thing to
happen in the world, for it is the world all over! If anyone
tells you otherwise, and says it is a virtue to do such
things, do not believe him. I should have to write at great
length, in view of my lack of skill and my
imperfection, if I were to tell you of all the harm
that comes from it; as others have written about it who know
what they are talking about better than I, what I have said
will suffice. If, imperfect as I am, I have been able to grasp
as much as this, how much better will those who are perfect do
so!

All the advice which the saints give us about fleeing from the
world is, of course, good. Believe me, then, attachment to our
relatives is, as I have said, the thing which sticks to us
most closely and is hardest to get rid of. People are right,
therefore, when they flee from their own part of the country
[31]—if it helps them, I mean, for I do not
think we are helped so much by fleeing from any place in
a physical sense as by resolutely embracing the good Jesus,
Our Lord, with the soul. Just as we find everything in Him, so
for His sake we forget everything. Still, it is a great help,
until we have learned this truth, to keep apart from our
kinsfolk; later on, it may be that the Lord will wish us to
see them again, so that what used to give us pleasure may be
a cross to us.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 10

Teaches that detachment from the things
aforementioned is insufficient if we are not detached from our
own selves and that this virtue and humility go together.

Once we have detached ourselves from the world, and from our
kinsfolk, and are cloistered here, in the conditions already
described, it must look as if we have done everything and
there is nothing left with which we have to contend. But, oh,
my sisters, do not feel secure and fall asleep, or you will be
like a man who goes to bed quite peacefully, after bolting all
his doors for fear of thieves, when the thieves are already in
the house. And you know there is no worse thief than one
who lives in the house. We ourselves are always the
same; [32]unless we take great care and each
of us looks well to it that she renounces her self-will, which
is the most important business of all, there will be many
things to deprive us of the holy freedom of spirit which
our souls seek in order to soar to their Maker
unburdened by the leaden weight of the earth.

It will be a great help towards this if we keep constantly in
our thoughts the vanity of all things and the rapidity with
which they pass away, so that we may withdraw our affections
from things which are so trivial and fix them upon what will
never come to an end. This may seem a poor kind of help but it
will have the effect of greatly fortifying the soul. With
regard to small things, we must be very careful, as soon as we
begin to grow fond of them, to withdraw our thoughts from them
and turn them to God. His Majesty will help us to do this. He
has granted us the great favour of providing that, in this
house, most of it is done already; but it remains for us
to become detached from our own selves and it is
a hard thing to withdraw from ourselves and oppose ourselves,
because we are very close to ourselves and love ourselves very
dearly.

It is here that true humility can enter, [33]for this virtue
and that of detachment from self, I think, always go together.
They are two sisters, who are inseparable. These are not the
kinsfolk whom I counsel you to avoid: no, you must embrace
them, and love them, and never be seen without them. Oh, how
sovereign are these virtues, mistresses of all created things,
empresses of the world, our deliverers from all the snares and
entanglements laid by the devil so dearly loved by our
Teacher, Christ, Who was never for a moment without them! He
that possesses them can safely go out and fight all the united
forces of hell and the whole world and its temptations. Let
him fear none, for his is the kingdom of the Heavens. There is
none whom he need fear, for he cares nothing if he loses
everything, nor does he count this as loss: his sole fear is
that he may displease his God and he begs Him to nourish these
virtues within him lest he lose them through any fault of his
own.

These virtues, it is true, have the property of hiding
themselves from one who possesses them, in such a way that he
never sees them nor can believe that he has any of them, even
if he be told so. But he esteems them so much that he is for
ever trying to obtain them, and thus he perfects them in
himself more and more. And those who possess them soon make
the fact clear, even against their will, to any with whom they
have intercourse. But how inappropriate it is for a person
like myself to begin to praise humility and mortification,
when these virtues are so highly praised by the King of Glory
—a praise exemplified in all the trials He suffered. It is
to possess these virtues, then, my daughters, that you must
labour if you would leave the land of Egypt, for, when you
have obtained them, you will also obtain the manna; all things
will taste well to you; and, however much the world may
dislike their savour, to you they will be sweet.

The first thing, then, that we have to do, and that at
once, is to rid ourselves of love for this body of
ours—and some of us pamper our natures so much that this
will cause us no little labour, while others are so
concerned about their health that the trouble these things
give us (this is especially so of poor nuns, but it
applies to others as well) is amazing. Some of us, however,
seem to think that we embraced the religious life for no other
reason than to keep ourselves alive [34]and each
nun does all she can to that end. In this house, as a matter
of fact, there is very little chance for us to act on such
a principle, but I should be sorry if we even wanted to.
Resolve, sisters, that it is to die for Christ, and not to
practise self-indulgence for Christ, that you have come here.
The devil tells us that self-indulgence is necessary if we are
to carry out and keep the Rule of our Order, and so many of
us, forsooth, try to keep our Rule by looking after our health
that we die without having kept it for as long as a month—
perhaps even for a day. I really do not know what we are
coming to.

No one need be afraid of our committing excesses here, by any
chance—for as soon as we do any penances our confessors
begin to fear that we shall kill ourselves with them. We are
so horrified at our own possible excesses—if only we were
as conscientious about everything else! Those who tend to the
opposite extreme will I know, not mind my saying this, nor
shall I mind if they say I am judging others by myself, for
they will be quite right. I believe—indeed, I am sure
—that more nuns are of my way of thinking than are
offended by me because they do just the opposite. My
own belief is that it is for this reason that the Lord is
pleased to make us such weakly creatures; at least He has
shown me great mercy in making me so; for, as I was sure to be
self-indulgent in any case, He was pleased to provide me with
an excuse for this. It is really amusing to see how some
people torture themselves about it, when the real reason lies
in themselves; sometimes they get a desire to do penances, as
one might say, without rhyme or reason; they go on doing them
for a couple of days; and then the devil puts it into their
heads that they have been doing themselves harm and so he
makes them afraid of penances, after which they dare not do
even those that the Order requires—they have tried them
once! They do not keep the smallest points in the Rule, such
as silence, which is quite incapable of harming us. Hardly
have we begun to imagine that our heads are aching than we
stay away from choir, though that would not kill us either.
One day we are absent because we had a headache some time
ago; another day, because our head has just been aching
again; and on the next three days in case it should ache
once more. Then we want to invent penances of our own,
with the result that we do neither the one thing nor the
other. Sometimes there is very little the matter with us, yet
we think that it should dispense us from all our obligations
and that if we ask to be excused from them we are doing all we
need.

But why, you will say, does the Prioress excuse us? Perhaps
she would not if she knew what was going on inside us; but
she sees one of you wailing about a mere nothing as if
your heart were breaking, and you come and ask her to
excuse you from keeping the whole of your Rule, saying it
is a matter of great necessity, and, when there is any
substance in what you say, there is always a physician
at hand to confirm it or some friend or relative weeping at
your side. Sometimes the poor Prioress sees that your
request is excessive, but what can she do? She feels
a scruple if she thinks she has been lacking in charity and
she would rather the fault were yours than hers: she
thinks, too, that it would be unjust of her to judge you
harshly.

Oh, God help me! That there should be complaining like
this among nuns! May He forgive me for saying so, but I am
afraid it has become quite a habit. I happened to observe
this incident once myself: a nun began complaining about
her headaches and she went on complaining to me for a long
time. In the end I made enquiries and found she had no
headache whatever, but was suffering from some pain or
other elsewhere.

These are things which may sometimes happen and I put them
down here so that you may guard against them; for if once the
devil begins to frighten us about losing our health, we shall
never get anywhere. The Lord give us light so that we may act
rightly in everything! Amen.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 11

Continues to treat of mortification and
describes how it may be attained in times of sickness.

These continual moanings which we make about trifling
ailments, my sisters, seem to me a sign of imperfection: if
you can bear a thing, say nothing about it. When the ailment
is serious, it proclaims itself; that is quite another kind of
moaning, which draws attention to itself immediately.
Remember, there are only a few of you, and if one of you gets
into this habit she will worry all the rest—that is,
assuming you love each other and there is charity among you.
On the other hand, if one of you is really ill, she should say
so and take the necessary remedies; and, if you have got rid
of your self-love, you will so much regret having to indulge
yourselves in any way that there will be no fear of your doing
so unnecessarily or of your making a moan without proper
cause. When such a reason exists, it would be much worse to
say nothing about it than to allow yourselves unnecessary
indulgence, and it would be very wrong if everybody were not
sorry for you.

However, I am quite sure that where there is prayer
and charity among you, and your numbers are so small
that you will be aware of each other’s needs, there
will never be any lack of care in your being looked after. Do
not think of complaining about the weaknesses and minor
ailments from which women suffer, for the devil sometimes
makes you imagine them. They come and go; and unless you get
rid of the habit of talking about them and complaining of
everything (except to God) you will never come to the end of
them. I lay great stress on this, for I believe myself it
is important, and it is one of the reasons for the
relaxation of discipline in religious houses. For this
body of ours has one fault: the more you indulge it, the more
things it discovers to be essential to it. It is extraordinary
how it likes being indulged; and, if there is any reasonable
pretext for indulgence, however little necessity for it there
may be, the poor soul is taken in and prevented from making
progress. Think how many poor people there must be who are ill
and have no one to complain to, for poverty and
self-indulgence make bad company. Think, too, how many married
women—people of position, as I know—have serious
complaints and sore trials and yet dare not complain to their
husbands about them for fear of annoying them. Sinner that
I am! Surely we have not come here to indulge ourselves more
than they! Oh, how free you are from the great trials of the
world! Learn to suffer a little for the love of God without
telling everyone about it. When a woman has made an unhappy
marriage she does not talk about it or complain of it, lest it
should come to her husband’s knowledge, she has to endure
a great deal of misery and yet has no one to whom she may
relieve her mind. Cannot we, then, keep secret between God and
ourselves some of the ailments which He sends us because of
our sins? The more so since talking about them does nothing
whatever to alleviate them.

In nothing that I have said am I referring to serious
illnesses, accompanied by high fever, though as to these, too,
I beg you to observe moderation and to have patience: I am
thinking rather of those minor indispositions which you may
have and still keep going [35]without worrying
everybody else to death over them. What would happen
if these lines should be seen outside this house? What would
all the nuns say of me! And how willingly would I bear what
they said if it helped anyone to live a better life! For when
there is one person of this kind, the thing generally comes to
such a pass that some suffer on account of others,
and nobody who says she is ill will be believed,
however serious her ailment. As this book is meant only
for my daughters, they will put up with everything
I say. Let us remember our holy Fathers of past days,
the hermits whose lives we attempt to imitate. What sufferings
they bore, what solitude, cold, [thirst] and hunger, what
burning sun and heat! And yet they had no one to complain to
except God. Do you suppose they were made of iron? No: they
were as frail as we are. Believe me, daughters, once we begin
to subdue these miserable bodies of ours, they give us much
less trouble. There will be quite sufficient people to see to
what you really need, [36]so take no thought
for yourselves except when you know it to be necessary. Unless
we resolve to put up with death and ill-health once and for
all, we shall never accomplish anything.

Try not to fear these and commit yourselves wholly to God,
come what may. What does it matter if we die? How many times
have our bodies not mocked us? Should we not occasionally mock
them in our turn? And, believe me, slight as it may seem
by comparison with other things, this resolution is
much more important than we may think; for, if we continually
make it, day by day, by the grace of the Lord, we shall gain
dominion over the body. To conquer such an enemy is a great
achievement in the battle of life. May the Lord grant, as He
is able, that we may do this. I am quite sure that no one who
does not enjoy such a victory, which I believe is a great one,
will understand what advantage it brings, and no one will
regret having gone through trials in order to attain this
tranquillity and self-mastery.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 12

Teaches that the true lover of God must care
little for life and honour.

We now come to some other little things which are
also of very great importance, though they will appear
trifling. All this seems a great task, and so it is, for it
means warring against ourselves. But once we begin to work,
God, too, works in our souls and bestows such favours on them
that the most we can do in this life seems to us very little.
And we nuns are doing everything we can, by giving up our
freedom for the love of God and entrusting it to another, and
in putting up with so many trials—fasts, silence,
enclosure, service in choir—that however much we may want
to indulge ourselves we can do so only occasionally: perhaps,
in all the convents I have seen, I am the only nun guilty of
self-indulgence. Why, then, do we shrink from interior
mortification, since this is the means by which every other
kind of mortification may become much more meritorious and
perfect, so that it can then be practised with greater
tranquillity and ease? This, as I have said, is acquired by
gradual progress and by never indulging our own will and
desire, even in small things, until we have succeeded in
subduing the body to the spirit.

I repeat that this consists mainly or entirely in our ceasing
to care about ourselves and our own pleasures, for the least
that anyone who is beginning to serve the Lord truly can offer
Him is his life. Once he has surrendered his will to Him, what
has he to fear? It is evident that if he is a true religious
and a real man of prayer and aspires to the enjoyment of
Divine consolations, he must not [turn back or] shrink from
desiring to die and suffer martyrdom for His sake. And do you
not know, sisters, that the life of a good religious, who
wishes to be among the closest friends of God, is one long
martyrdom? I say “long”, for, by comparison with decapitation,
which is over very quickly, it may well be termed so, though
life itself is short and some lives are short in the extreme.
How do we know but that ours will be so short that it may end
only one hour or one moment after the time of our resolving to
render our entire service to God? This would be quite
possible; and so we must not set store by anything that comes
to an end, least of all by life, since not a day of it is
secure. Who, if he thought that each hour might be
his last, would not spend it in labour?

Believe me, it is safest to think that this is so; by so doing
we shall learn to subdue our wills in everything; for if, as
I have said, you are very careful about your prayer,
you will soon find yourselves gradually reaching the summit of
the mountain without knowing how. But how harsh it sounds to
say that we must take pleasure in nothing, unless we also say
what consolations and delights this renunciation brings in its
train, and what a great gain it is, even in this life! What
security it gives us! Here, as you all practise this, you have
done the principal part; each of you encourages [37]and helps the
rest; and each of you must try to outstrip her sisters.

Be very careful about your interior thoughts, especially if
they have to do with precedence. May God, by His Passion, keep
us from expressing, or dwelling upon, such thoughts as these:
“But I am her senior [in the Order]”; “But I am older”; “But
I have worked harder”; “But that other sister is being better
treated than I am”. If these thoughts come, you must quickly
check them; if you allow yourselves to dwell on them, or
introduce them into your conversation, they will spread like
the plague and in religious houses they may give rise
to great abuses. Remember, I know a great deal about
this. If you have a prioress who allows such things,
however trifling, you must believe that God has permitted her
to be given to you because of your sins and that she will be
the beginning of your ruin. Cry to Him, and let your whole
prayer be that He may come to your aid by sending you
either a religious or a person given to prayer; for, if
anyone prays with the resolve to enjoy the favours and
consolations which God bestows in prayer, it is always well
that he should have this detachment.

You may ask why I lay such stress on this, and think that I am
being too severe about it, and say that God grants
consolations to persons less completely detached than that.
I quite believe He does; for, in His infinite wisdom, He sees
that this will enable Him to lead them to leave everything for
His sake. I do not mean, by “leaving” everything, entering the
religious life, for there may be obstacles to this, and the
soul that is perfect can be detached and humble anywhere. It
will find detachment harder in the world, however, for worldly
trappings will be a great impediment to it. Still, believe me
in this: questions of honour and desires for property
can arise within convents as well as outside them, and the
more temptations of this kind are removed from us, the more we
are to blame if we yield to them. Though persons who do so may
have spent years in prayer, or rather in meditation (for
perfect prayer eventually destroys [all] these attachments),
they will never make great progress or come to enjoy the real
fruit of prayer.

Ask yourselves, sisters, if these things, which seem so
insignificant, mean anything to you, for the only
reason you are here is that you may detach yourselves from
them. Nobody honours you any the more for having them and they
lose you advantages which might have gained you more honour;
the result is that you get both dishonour and loss at the same
time. Let each of you ask herself how much humility she has
and she will see what progress she has made. If she is really
humble, I do not think the devil will dare to tempt her to
take even the slightest interest in matters of precedence, for
he is so shrewd that he is afraid of the blow she would strike
him. If a humble soul is tempted in this way by the devil,
that virtue cannot fail to bring her more fortitude and
greater profit. For clearly the temptation will cause her to
look into her life, to compare the services she has rendered
the Lord with what she owes Him and with the marvellous way in
which He abased Himself to give us an example of humility, and
to think over her sins and remember where she deserves to be
on account of them. Exercises like this bring the soul such
profit that on the following day Satan will not dare to come
back again lest he should get his head broken.

Take this advice from me and do not forget it: you should see
to it that your sisters profit by your temptations, not only
interiorly (where it would be very wrong if they did not), but
exteriorly as well. If you want to avenge yourself on the
devil and free yourselves more quickly from temptation, ask
the superior, as soon as a temptation comes to you, to give
you some lowly office to do, or do some such thing, as best
you can, on our own initiative, studying as you do it how to
bend your will to perform tasks you dislike. The Lord will
show you ways of doing so and this will soon rid you of the
temptation.

God deliver us from people who wish to serve Him yet who are
mindful of their own honour. Reflect how little they gain from
this; for, as I have said, the very act of desiring honour
robs us of it, especially in matters of precedence: there is
no poison in the world which is so fatal to perfection. You
will say that these are little things which have to do with
human nature and are not worth troubling about; do not trifle
with them, for in religious houses they spread like
foam on water, and there is no small matter so extremely
dangerous as are punctiliousness about honour and
sensitiveness to insult. Do you know one reason, apart from
many others, why this is so? [38]It may
have its root, perhaps, in some trivial slight—hardly
anything, in fact—and the devil will then induce someone
else to consider it important, so that she will think it
a real charity to tell you about it and to ask how you can
allow yourself to be insulted so; and she will pray that God
may give you patience and that you may offer it to Him, for
even a saint could not bear more. The devil is simply putting
his deceitfulness into this other person’s mouth; and, though
you yourself are quite ready to bear the slight, you are
tempted to vainglory because you have not resisted something
else as perfectly as you should.

This human nature of ours is so wretchedly weak that,
even while we are telling ourselves that there is nothing for
us to make a fuss about, we imagine we are doing something
virtuous, and begin to feel sorry for ourselves, particularly
when we see that other people are sorry for us too. In this
way the soul begins to lose the occasions of merit which it
had gained; it becomes weaker; and thus a door is opened to
the devil by which he can enter on some other occasion with
a temptation worse than the last. It may even happen that,
when you yourself are prepared to suffer an insult, your
sisters come and ask you if you are a beast of burden, and say
you ought to be more sensitive about things. Oh, my sisters,
for the love of God, never let charity move you to show pity
for another in anything to do with these fancied insults, for
that is like the pity shown to holy Job by his wife and
friends.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 13

Continues to treat of mortification and
explains how one must renounce the world’s standards of wisdom
in order to attain to true wisdom.

I often tell you, sisters, and now I want it to be set down in
writing, not to forget that we in this house, and for that
matter anyone who would be perfect, must flee a thousand
leagues from such phrases as: “I had right on my side”; “They
had no right to do this to me”; “The person who treated me
like this was not right”. God deliver us from such a false
idea of right as that! Do you think that it was right for our
good Jesus to have to suffer so many insults, and that those
who heaped them on Him[39] were right, and that they had any
right to do Him those wrongs? I do not know why anyone is in
a convent who is willing to bear only the crosses that she has
a perfect right to expect: such a person should return to the
world, though even there such rights will not be safeguarded.
Do you think you can ever possibly have to bear so much that
you ought not to have to bear any more? How does right enter
into the matter at all? I really do not know.

Before we begin talking about not having our rights, let us
wait until we receive some honour or gratification, or are
treated kindly, for it is certainly not right that we should
have anything in this life like that. When, on the other hand,
some offence is done to us (and we do not feel it an offence
to us that it should be so described), I do not see what we
can find to complain of. Either we are the brides of this
great King or we are not. If we are, what wife is there with
a sense of honour who does not accept her share in any
dishonour done to her spouse, even though she may do so
against her will? Each partner, in fact, shares in the honour
and dishonour of the other. To desire to share in the kingdom
[of our Spouse Jesus Christ], and to enjoy it, and yet not to
be willing to have any part in His dishonours and trials, is
ridiculous.

God keep us from being like that! Let the sister who thinks
that she is accounted the least among all consider herself the
[happiest and] most fortunate, as indeed she really
is, if she lives her life as she should, for in that case she
will, as a rule, have no lack of honour either in
this life or in the next. Believe me when I say this—what
an absurdity, though, it is for me to say “Believe me” when
the words come from Him Who is true Wisdom, Who is Truth
Itself, and from the Queen of the angels! Let us, my
daughters, in some small degree, imitate the great humility of
the most sacred Virgin, whose habit we wear and whose nuns we
are ashamed to call ourselves. Let us at least imitate
this humility of hers in some degree—I say “in some
degree” because, however much we may seem to humble
ourselves, we fall far short of being the daughters of such
a Mother, and the brides of such a Spouse. If, then, the
habits I have described are not sternly checked, what seems
nothing to-day will perhaps be a venial sin to-morrow, and
that is so infectious a tendency that, if you leave it alone,
the sin will not be the only one for long; and that is a very
bad thing for communities.

We who live in a community should consider this very
carefully, so as not to harm those who labour to benefit us
and to set us a good example. If we realize what great harm is
done by the formation of a bad habit of
over-punctiliousness about our honour, we should
rather die a thousand deaths than be the cause of
such a thing. For only the body would die, whereas the loss of
a soul is a great loss which is apparently without end; some
of us will die, but others will take our places and perhaps
they may all be harmed more by the one bad habit which we
started than they are benefited by many virtues. For the devil
does not allow a single bad habit to disappear and the very
weakness of our mortal nature destroys the virtues in us.

Oh, what a real charity it would be, and what a service would
be rendered to God, if any nun who sees that she cannot
[endure and] conform to the customs of this house would
recognize the fact and go away [before being professed, as
I have said elsewhere], and leave the other sisters in
peace! And no convent (at least, if it follows my advice)
will take her or allow her to make her profession until
they have given her many years’ probation to see if she
improves. I am not referring to shortcomings affecting
penances and fasts, for, although these are wrong, they are
not things which do so much harm. I am thinking of nuns who
are of such a temperament that they like to be esteemed and
made much of; who see the faults of others but never
recognize their own; and who are deficient in other ways
like these, the true source of which is want of humility.
If God does not help such a person by bestowing great
spirituality upon her, until after many years she becomes
greatly improved, may God preserve you from keeping her in
your community. For you must realize that she will neither
have peace there herself nor allow you to have
any.

As you do not take dowries, God is very gracious to you in
this respect. It grieves me that religious houses should
often harbour one who is a thief and robs them of their
treasure, either because they are unwilling to return
a dowry or out of regard for the relatives. In this house
you have risked losing worldly honour and forgone it (for
no such honour is paid to those who are poor); do not
desire, then, that others should be honoured at such a cost
to yourselves. Our honour, sisters, must lie in the service
of God, and, if anyone thinks to hinder you in this, she
had better keep her honour and stay at home. It was with
this in mind that our Fathers ordered a year’s probation
(which in our Order we are free to extend to four years):
personally, I should like it to be prolonged to ten years.
A humble nun will mind very little if she is not professed:
for she knows that if she is good she will not be sent
away, and if she is not, why should she wish to do harm to
one of Christ’s communities?[40]

By not being good, I do not mean being fond of vanities,
which, I believe, with the help of God, will be a fault far
removed from the nuns in this house. I am referring to
a want of mortification and an attachment to worldly things
and to self-interest in the matter which I have described.
Let anyone who knows that she is not greatly mortified take
my advice and not make her profession if she does not
wish to suffer a hell on earth, and God grant there may not be
another hell awaiting such a nun in the world to come! There
are many reasons why she should fear there may belt and
possibly neither she nor her sisters may realize this as well
as I do.

Believe what I say here; if you will not, I must leave it to
time to prove the truth of my words. For the whole manner of
life we are trying to live is making us, not only nuns, but
hermits [like the holy Fathers our predecessors] and leading
us to detachment from all things created. I have observed that
anyone whom the Lord has specially chosen for this life is
granted that favour. She may not have it in full perfection,
but that she has it will be evident from the great joy and
gladness that such detachment gives her, and she will never
have any more to do with worldly things, for her delight will
be in all the practices of the religious life. I say once more
that anyone who is inclined to things of the world should
leave the convent [41]if she sees she is not making progress. If she
still wishes to be a nun she should go to another convent; if
she does not, she will see what happens to her. She must not
complain of me as the foundress of this convent and say I have
not warned her.

This house is another Heaven, if it be possible to have Heaven
upon earth. Anyone whose sole pleasure lies in pleasing God
and who cares nothing for her own pleasure will find our life
a very good one; if she wants anything more, she will lose
everything, for there is nothing more that she can have.
A discontented soul is like a person suffering from severe
nausea, who rejects all food, however nice it may be; things
which persons in good health delight in eating only cause her
the greater loathing. Such a person will save her
soul better elsewhere than here; she may even gradually reach
a degree of perfection which she could not have attained here
because we expected too much of her all at once. For although
we allow time for the attainment of complete detachment and
mortification in interior matters, in externals this has to be
practised immediately, because of the harm which may
otherwise befall the rest; and anyone who sees this
being done, and spends all her time in such good company, and
yet, at the end of six months or a year, has made no
progress, will, I fear, make none over a great many years, and
will even go backward. I do not say that such a nun must be as
perfect as the rest, but she must be sure that her soul is
gradually growing healthier—and it will soon become clear
if her disease is mortal.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 14

Treats of the great importance of not
professing anyone whose spirit is contrary to the things
aforementioned.

I feel sure that the Lord bestows great help on anyone who
makes good resolutions, and for that reason it is necessary to
enquire into the intentions of anyone who enters [the life of
religion]. She must not come, as many nuns [now] do, simply
to further her own interests, although the Lord can perfect
even this intention if she is a person of intelligence. If not
intelligent, a person of this kind should on no account be
admitted; for she will not understand her own reasons for
coming, nor will she understand others who attempt
subsequently to improve her. For, in general, a person who has
this fault always thinks she knows better than the wisest what
is good for her; and I believe this evil is incurable, for it
is rarely unaccompanied by malice. In a convent where there
are a great many nuns it may be tolerated, but it
cannot be suffered among a few.

When an intelligent person begins to grow fond of what is
good, she clings to it manfully, for she sees that it is the
best thing for her; this course may not bring her great
spirituality but it will help her to give profitable advice,
and to make herself useful in many ways, without being
a trouble to anybody. But I do not see how a person lacking in
intelligence can be of any use in community life, and she may
do a great deal of harm. This defect, like others,
will not become obvious immediately; for many people are good
at talking and bad at understanding, while others speak in
a sharp and none too refined a tone, [42]and yet they have
intelligence and can do a great deal of good. There are also
simple, holy people who are quite unversed in
business matters and worldly conventions but have great skill
in converse with God. Many enquiries, therefore, must be made
before novices are admitted, and the period of probation
before profession should be a long one. The world must
understand once and for an that you are free to send them away
again, as it is often necessary to do in a convent
where the life is one of austerity; and then if you use this
right no one will take offence.

I say this because these times are so unhappy, and our
weakness is so great, that we are not content to follow the
instructions of our predecessors and disregard the current
ideas about honour, lest we should give offence to the
novices’ relatives. God grant that those of us who admit
unsuitable persons may not pay for it in the world to come!
Such persons are never without a pretext for persuading us to
accept them, though in a matter of such importance no
pretext is valid. If the superior is unaffected by her
personal likings and prejudices, and considers what is for
the good of the house, I do not believe God will ever allow
her to go astray. But if she considers other people’s
feelings and trivial points of detail, I feel sure she will
be bound to err.

This is something which everyone must think out for herself;
she must commend it to God and encourage her superior when
her courage fails her, of such great importance is it.
So I beg God to give you light about it. You do very well not
to accept dowries; for, if you were to accept them, it might
happen that, in order not to have to give back money which you
no longer possess, you would keep a thief in the house who was
robbing you of your treasure; and that would be no small pity.
So you must not receive dowries from anyone, for to do so may
be to harm the very person to whom you desire to bring
profit.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 15

Treats of the great advantage which comes
from our not excusing ourselves, even though we find we are
unjustly condemned.

But how disconnectedly I am writing! I am just like a person
who does not know what she is doing. It is your fault,
sisters, for I am doing this at your command. Read it as best
you can, for I am writing it as best I can, and, if it is too
bad, burn it. I really need leisure, and, as you see, I have
so little opportunity for writing that a week passes without
my putting down a word, and so I forget what I have said and
what I am going to say next. Now what I have just been doing
—namely, excusing myself—is very bad for me, and I beg
you not to copy it, for to suffer without making excuses is
a habit of great perfection, and very edifying and
meritorious; and, though I often teach you this, and by God’s
goodness you practise it, His Majesty has never granted this
favour to me. May He be pleased to bestow it on me before
I die.

I am greatly confused as I begin to urge this virtue upon you,
for I ought myself to have practised at least something of
what I am recommending you with regard to it: but actually
I must confess I have made very little progress. I never seem
unable to find a reason for thinking I am being virtuous when
I make excuses for myself. There are times when this is
lawful, and when not to do it would be wrong, but I have not
the discretion (or, better, the humility) to do it only when
fitting. For, indeed, it takes great humility to find oneself
unjustly condemned and be silent, and to do this is to imitate
the Lord Who set us free from all our sins. I beg you, then,
to study earnestly to do so, for it brings great gain; whereas
I can see no gain in our trying to free ourselves from blame:
none whatever—save, as I say, in a few cases where hiding
the truth might cause offence or scandal. Anyone will
understand this who has more discretion than I.

I think it is very important to accustom oneself to practise
this virtue and to endeavour to obtain from the Lord the true
humility which must result from it. The truly humble person
will have a genuine desire to be thought little of, and
persecuted, and condemned unjustly, even in serious matters.
For, if she desires to imitate the Lord, how can she do so
better than in this? And no bodily strength is necessary here,
nor the aid of anyone save God.

These are great virtues, my sisters, and I should like us to
study them closely, and to make them our penance. As you know,
I deprecate [other severe and] excessive penances, which, if
practised indiscreetly, may injure the health. Here, however,
there is no cause for fear; for, however great the interior
virtues may be, they do not weaken the body so that it cannot
serve the Order, while at the same time they strengthen the
soul; and, furthermore, they can be applied to very little
things, and thus, as I have said on other occasions, they
accustom one to gain great victories in very
important matters. I have not, however, been able to test this
particular thing myself, for I never heard anything bad said
of me which I did not clearly realize fell short of
the truth. If I had not sometimes—often, indeed—
offended God in the ways they referred to, I had done so in
many others, and I felt they had treated me far too
indulgently in saying nothing about these: I much preferred
people to blame me for what was not true than to tell the
truth about me. For I disliked hearing things that were
true said about me, whereas these other things, however
serious they were, I did not mind at all. In small matters
I followed my own inclinations, and I still do so, without
paying any affection to what is most perfect. So I should
like you to begin to realize this at an early stage, and
I want each of you to ponder how much there is to be gained
in every way by this virtue, and how, so far as I can see,
there is nothing to be lost by it. The chief thing we gain
is being able, in some degree, to follow the Lord.

It is a great help to meditate upon the great gain which in
any case this is bound to bring us, and to realize how,
properly speaking, we can never be blamed unjustly, since we
are always full of faults, and a just man falls seven times
a day, [43]so that it
would be a falsehood for us to say we have no sin. If, then,
we are not to blame for the thing that we are accused of, we
are never wholly without blame in the way that our good Jesus
was.

Oh, my Lord! When I think in how many ways Thou didst suffer,
and in all of them undeservedly, I know not what to say for
myself, or what I can have been thinking about when I desired
not to suffer, or what I am doing when I make excuses for
myself. Thou knowest, my Good, that if there is anything good
in me it comes from no other hands than Thine own. For what is
it to Thee, Lord, to give much instead of little? True, I do
not deserve it, but neither have I deserved the favours which
Thou hast shown me already. Can it be that I should wish
a thing so evil as myself to be thought well of by anyone,
when they have said such wicked things of Thee, Who art good
above all other good? It is intolerable, my God, it is
intolerable; nor would I that Thou shouldst have to tolerate
anything displeasing in Thine eyes being found in Thy
handmaiden. For see, Lord, mine eyes are blind and very little
pleases them. Do Thou give me light and make me truly to
desire that all should hate me, since I have so often left
Thee, Who hast loved me with such faithfulness.

What is this, my God? What advantage do we think to gain from
giving pleasure to creatures? What does it matter to us if we
are blamed by them all, provided we are without blame in the
sight of the Lord? Oh, my sisters we shall never succeed in
understanding this truth and we shall never attain perfection
unless we think and meditate upon what is real and upon what
is not. If there were no other gain than the confusion which
will be felt by the person who has blamed you when she sees
that you have allowed yourselves to be condemned unjustly,
that would be a very great thing. Such an experience uplifts
the soul more than ten sermons. And we must all try to be
preachers by our deeds, since both the Apostle and our own
lack of ability forbid us to be preachers in word.

Never suppose that either the evil or the good that you do
will remain secret, however strict may be your enclosure. Do
you suppose, daughter, that, if you do not make excuses for
yourself, there will not be someone else who will defend you?
Remember how the Lord took the Magdalen’s part in the
Pharisee’s house and also when her sister blamed her. He will
not treat you as rigorously as He treated Himself: it was not
until He was on the Cross that He had even a thief to defend
Him. His Majesty, then, will put it into somebody’s mind to
defend you; if He does not, it will be because there is no
need. This I have myself seen, and it is a fact, although
I should not like you to think too much of it, but rather to
be glad when you are blamed, and in due time you will see what
profit you experience in your souls. For it is in this way
that you will begin to gain freedom; soon you will not care if
they speak ill or well of you; it will seem like someone
else’s business. It will be as if two persons are talking
in your presence and you are quite uninterested in
what they are saying because you are not actually being
addressed by them. So here: it becomes such a habit with us
not to reply that it seems as if they are not addressing us at
all. This may seem impossible to those of us who are very
sensitive and not capable of great mortification. It is indeed
difficult at first, but I know that, with the Lord’s help, the
gradual attainment of this freedom, and of
renunciation and self-detachment, is quite possible.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 16

Describes the difference between perfection
in the lives of contemplatives and in the lives of those who
are content with mental prayer. Explains how it is sometimes
possible for God to raise a distracted soul to perfect
contemplation and the reason for this. This chapter and that
which comes next are to be noted carefully.

[The first four paragraphs of this chapter
originally formed part of V., but, after writing them, St.
Teresa tore them out of the manuscript, as though, on
consideration, she had decided not to leave on record her
knowledge of such a worldly game as chess. The allegory,
however, is so expressive and beautiful that it has rightly
become famous, and from the time of Fray Luis de León all
the editions have included it. The text here followed is
that of E.]

I hope you do not think I have written too much about this
already; for I have only been placing the board, as they say.
You have asked me to tell you about the first steps in prayer;
although God did not lead me by them, my daughters I know no
others, and even now I can hardly have acquired these
elementary virtues. But you may be sure that anyone who cannot
set out the pieces in a game of chess will never be able to
play well, and, if he does not know how to give check, he will
not be able to bring about a checkmate.[44] Now you
will reprove me for talking about games, as we do not play
them in this house and are forbidden to do so. That will
show you what kind of a mother God has given you—she
even knows about vanities like this! However, they say that
the game is sometimes legitimate. How legitimate it will be
for us to play it in this way, and, if we play it
frequently, how quickly we shall give checkmate to this
Divine King! He will not be able to move out of our check
nor will He desire to do so.

It is the queen which gives the king most trouble in this
game and all the other pieces support her. There is no
queen who can beat this King as well as humility can; for
humility brought Him down from Heaven into the Virgin’s
womb and with humility we can draw Him into our souls by
a single hair. Be sure that He will give most humility to
him who has most already and least to him who has least.
I cannot understand how humility exists, or can exist,
without love, or love without humility, and it is
impossible for these two virtues to exist save where there
is great detachment from all created things.

You will ask, my daughters, why I am talking to you about
virtues when you have more than enough books to teach you
about them and when you want me to tell you only about
contemplation. My reply is that, if you had asked me about
meditation, I could have talked to you about it, and
advised you all to practise it, even if you do not possess
the virtues. For this is the first step to be taken towards
the acquisition of the virtues and the very life of all
Christians depends upon their beginning it. No one, however
lost a soul he may be, should neglect so great a blessing
if God inspires him to make use of it. All this I have
already written elsewhere, and so have many others who know
what they are writing about, which I certainly do not: God
knows that.

But contemplation, daughters, is another matter. This is
an error which we all make: if a person gets so far as to
spend a short time each day in thinking about his sins, as
he is bound to do if he is a Christian in anything more
than name, people at once call him a great contemplative;
and then they expect him to have the rare virtues which
a great contemplative is bound to possess; he may even
think he has them himself, but he will be quite wrong. In
his early stages he did not even know how to set out the
chess-board, and thought that, in order to give checkmate,
it would be enough to be able to recognize the pieces. But
that is impossible, for this King does not allow Himself to
be taken except by one who surrenders wholly to
Him.

Therefore, daughters, if you want me to tell you the way to
attain to contemplation, do allow me to speak at some length
about these things, even if at the time they do not seem to
you very important, for I think myself that they are. If you
have no wish either to hear about them or to practise them,
continue your mental prayer all your life; but in that case
I assure you, and all persons who desire this blessing, that
in my opinion you will not attain true contemplation.
I may, of course, be wrong about this, as I am judging by my
own experience, but I have been striving after contemplation
for twenty years.

I will now explain what mental prayer is, as some of you will
not understand this. God grant that we may practise it as we
should! I am afraid, however, that, if we do not achieve the
virtues, this can only be done with great labour, although the
virtues are not necessary here in such a high degree as they
are for contemplation. I mean that the King of glory will not
come to our souls—that is, so as to be united with them—
unless we strive to gain the greatest virtues. [45]I will explain
this, for if you once catch me out in something which is not
the truth, you will believe nothing I say—and if I were to
say something untrue intentionally, from which may God
preserve me, you would be right; but, if I did, it would be
because I knew no better or did not understand what I said.
I will tell you, then, that God is sometimes pleased to show
great favour to persons who are in an evil state [and to raise
them to perfect contemplation], so that by this means He may
snatch them out of the hands of the devil. It must be
understood, I think, that such persons will not be in
mortal sin at the time. They may be in an evil state, and
yet the Lord will allow them to see a vision, even a very
good one, in order to draw them back to Himself. But
I cannot believe that He would grant them contemplation.
For that is a Divine union, in which the Lord takes His
delight in the soul and the soul takes its delight in Him;
and there is no way in which the Purity of the Heavens can
take pleasure in a soul that is unclean, nor can the
Delight of the angels have delight in that which is not His
own. And we know that, by committing mortal sin, a soul
becomes the property of the devil, and must take its
delight in him, since it has given him pleasure; and, as we
know, his delights, even in this life, are continuous
torture. My Lord will have no lack of children of His own
in whom He may rejoice without going and taking the
children of others. Yet His Majesty will do what He often
does—namely, snatch them out of the devil’s
hands.[46]

Oh, my Lord! How often do we cause Thee to wrestle with the
devil! Was it not enough that Thou shouldst have allowed him
to bear Thee in his arms when he took Thee to the pinnacle of
the Temple in order to teach us how to vanquish him? What
a sight it would have been, daughters, to see this Sun by the
side of the darkness, and what fear that wretched creature
must have felt, though he would not have known why, since God
did not allow Him to understand!

Blessed be such great pity and mercy; we Christians ought to
feel great shame at making Him wrestle daily, in the way
I have described, with such an unclean beast. Indeed, Lord,
Thine arms had need to be strong, but how was it that they
were not weakened by the many [trials and] tortures which Thou
didst endure upon the Cross? Oh, how quickly all that is borne
for love’s sake heals again! I really believe that, if Thou
hadst lived longer, the very love which Thou hast for us would
have healed Thy wounds again and Thou wouldst have needed no
other medicine. Oh, my God, who will give me such medicine for
all the things which grieve and try me? How eagerly should
I desire them if it were certain that I could be cured by such
a health-giving ointment!

Returning to what I was saying, there are souls whom God knows
He may gain for Himself by this means; seeing that they are
completely lost, His Majesty wants to leave no stone unturned
to help them; and therefore, though they are in a sad way and
lacking in virtues, He gives them consolations, favours and
emotions [47]which begin to move their desires, and
occasionally even brings them to a state of contemplation,
though rarely and not for long at a time. And this, as I say,
He does because He is testing them to see if that favour will
not make them anxious to prepare themselves to enjoy it often;
if it does not, may they be pardoned; pardon Thou us, Lord,
for it is a dreadful thing that a soul whom Thou hast brought
near to Thyself should approach any earthly thing and become
attached to it.

For my own part I believe there are many souls whom God our
Lord tests in this way, and few who prepare themselves to
enjoy this favour. When the Lord does this and we ourselves
leave nothing undone either, I think it is certain that He
never ceases from giving until He has brought us to a very
high degree of prayer. If we do not give ourselves to His
Majesty as resolutely as He gives Himself to us, He will be
doing more than enough for us if He leaves us in mental prayer
and from time to time visits us as He would visit servants in
His vineyard. But these others are His beloved children, whom
He would never want to banish from His side; and, as they have
no desire to leave Him, He never does so. He seats them at His
table, and feeds them with His own food, almost taking the
food from His mouth in order to give it them.

Oh, what blessed care of us is this, my daughters! How happy
shall we be if by leaving these few, petty [48]things we can arrive at
so high an estate! Even if the whole world should blame you,
and deafen you with its cries, what matter so long as
you are in the arms of God? He is powerful enough to free you
from everything; for only once did He command the world to be
made and it was done; with Him, to will is to do. Do not be
afraid, then, if He is pleased to speak with you, for He does
this for the greater good of those who love Him. His love for
those to whom He is dear is by no means so weak: He shows
it in every way possible. Why, then, my sisters, do
we not show Him love in so far as we can? Consider what
a wonderful exchange it is if we give Him our love and receive
His. Consider that He can do all things, and we can do nothing
here below save as He enables us. And what is it that we do
for Thee, O Lord, our Maker? We do hardly anything [at all]—
just make some poor weak resolution. And, if His Majesty is
pleased that by doing a mere nothing we should win everything,
let us not be so foolish as to fail to do it.

O Lord! All our trouble comes to us from not having our eyes
fixed upon Thee. If we only looked at the way along which we
are walking, we should soon arrive; but we stumble and fall
a thousand times and stray from the way because, as I say, we
do not set our eyes on the true Way. One would think that no
one had ever trodden it before, so new is it to us. It is
indeed a pity that this should sometimes happen. I mean,
it hardly seems that we are Christians at all or that we
have ever in our lives read about the Passion. Lord help us
—that we should be hurt about some small point of honour!
And then, when someone tells us not to worry about it, we
think he is no Christian. I used to laugh—or sometimes
I used to be distressed—at the things I heard in the
world, and sometimes, for my sins, in religious
Orders. We refuse to be thwarted over the very
smallest matter of precedence: apparently such a thing is
quite intolerable. We cry out at once: “Well, I’m no saint”;
I used to say that myself.

God deliver us, sisters, from saying “We are not angels”, or
“We are not saints”, whenever we commit some imperfection. We
may not be; but what a good thing it is for us to reflect that
we can be if we will only try and if God gives us His hand! Do
not be afraid that He will fail to do His part if we do not
fail to do ours. And since we come here for no other reason,
let us put our hands to the plough, as they say. Let there be
nothing we know of which it would be a service to the Lord for
us to do, and which, with His help, we would not venture to
take in hand. I should like that kind of venturesomeness to be
found in this house, as it always increases humility. We must
have a holy boldness, for God helps the strong, being no
respecter of persons; [49]and He will give courage to you and to
me.

I have strayed far from the point. I want to return to what
I was saying—that is, to explain the nature of mental
prayer and contemplation. It may seem irrelevant, but it is
all done for your sakes; you may understand it better as
expressed in my rough style than in other books which put it
more elegantly. May the Lord grant me His favour, so that this
may be so. Amen.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 17

How not all souls are fitted for
contemplation and how some take long to attain it. True
humility will walk happily along the road by which the Lord
leads it.

I seem now to be beginning my treatment of prayer, but there
still remains a little for me to say, which is of great
importance because it has to do with humility, and in this
house that is necessary. For humility is the principal virtue
which must be practised by those who pray, and, as I have
said, it is very fitting that you should try to learn how to
practise it often: that is one of the chief things to remember
about it and it is very necessary that it should be known by
all who practise prayer. How can anyone who is truly humble
think herself as good as those who become contemplatives? God,
it is true, by His goodness and mercy, can make her so; but my
advice is that she should always sit down in the lowest place,
for that is what the Lord instructed us to do and taught us by
His own example. [50]Let such a one make herself ready for God to lead
her by this road if He so wills; if He does not, the whole
point of true humility is that she should consider
herself happy in serving the servants of the Lord and in
praising Him. For she deserves to be a slave of the devils in
hell; yet His Majesty has brought her here to live among His
servants.

I do not say this without good reason, for, as I have said, it
is very important for us to realize that God does not lead us
all by the same road, and perhaps she who believes herself to
be going along the lowest of roads is the highest in the
Lord’s eyes. So it does not follow that, because all of us in
this house practise prayer, we are all perforce to be
contemplatives. That is impossible; and those of us who are
not would be greatly discouraged if we did not grasp the truth
that contemplation is something given by God, and, as it is
not necessary for salvation and God does not ask it of us
before He gives us our reward, we must not suppose that anyone
else will require it of us. We shall not fail to attain
perfection if we do what has been said here; we may, in fact,
gain much more merit, because what we do will cost us more
labour; the Lord will be treating us like those who are strong
and will be laying up for us all that we cannot enjoy in this
life. Let us not be discouraged, then, and give up prayer or
cease doing what the rest do; for the Lord sometimes tarries
long, and gives us as great rewards all at once as He has been
giving to others over many years.

I myself spent over fourteen years without ever being able to
meditate except while reading. There must be many people like
this, and others who cannot meditate even after reading, but
can only recite vocal prayers, in which they chiefly occupy
themselves and take a certain pleasure. Some find
their thoughts wandering so much that they cannot concentrate
upon the same thing, but are always restless, to such an
extent that, if they try to fix their thoughts upon God, they
are attacked by a thousand foolish ideas and scruples and
doubts concerning the Faith. I know a very old woman,
leading a most excellent life—I wish mine were like
hers—a penitent and a great servant of God, who for
many years has been spending hours and hours in vocal prayer,
but from mental prayer can get no help at all; the most she
can do is to dwell upon each of her vocal prayers as she says
them. There are a great many other people just like
this; if they are humble, they will not, I think, be any the
worse off in the end, but very much in the same state as those
who enjoy numerous consolations. In one way they may feel
safer, for we cannot tell if consolations come from God or are
sent by the devil. If they are not of God, they are the more
dangerous; for the chief object of the devil’s work on earth
is to fill us with pride. If they are of God, there is no
reason for fear, for they bring humility with them, as
I explained in my other book at great length.

Others [51]walk in humility, and always suspect that if
they fail to receive consolations the fault is theirs, and are
always most anxious to make progress. They never see a person
shedding a tear without thinking themselves very backward in
God’s service unless they are doing the same, whereas they may
perhaps be much more advanced. For tears, though good, are not
invariably signs of perfection; there is always greater safety
in humility, mortification, detachment and other virtues.
There is no reason for fear, and you must not be afraid that
you will fail to attain the perfection of the greatest
contemplatives.

Saint Martha was holy, but we are not told that she was
a contemplative. What more do you want than to be able to grow
to be like that blessed woman, who was worthy to receive
Christ our Lord so often in her house, and to prepare meals
for Him, and to serve Him and perhaps to eat at table with
Him? If she had been absorbed in devotion [all the time], as
the Magdalen was, there would have been no one to prepare
a meal for this Divine Guest. Now remember that this little
community is Saint Martha’s house and that there must be
people of all kinds here. Nuns who are called to the active
life must not murmur at others who are very much absorbed in
contemplation, for contemplatives know that, though they
themselves may be silent, the Lord will speak for them, and
this, as a rule, makes them forget themselves and everything
else.

Remember that there must be someone to cook the meals and
count yourselves happy in being able to serve like Martha.
Reflect that true humility consists to a great extent in being
ready for what the Lord desires to do with you and happy that
He should do it, and in always considering yourselves unworthy
to be called His servants. If contemplation and mental and
vocal prayer and tending the sick and serving in the house and
working at even the lowliest tasks are of service to the Guest
who comes to stay with us and to eat and take His recreation
with us, what should it matter to us if we do one of these
things rather than another?

I do not mean that it is for us to say what we shall do, but
that we must do our best in everything, for the choice is not
ours but the Lord’s. If after many years He is pleased to give
each of us her office, it will be a curious kind of humility
for you to wish to choose; let the Lord of the house do that,
for He is wise and powerful and knows what is fitting for you
and for Himself as well. Be sure that, if you do what lies in
your power and prepare yourself for high
contemplation with the perfection aforementioned, then, if He
does not grant it you (and I think He will not fail to do so
if you have true detachment and humility), it will be because
He has laid up this joy for you so as to give it you in
Heaven, and because, as I have said elsewhere, He is pleased
to treat you like people who are strong and give you a cross
to bear on earth like that which His Majesty Himself always
bore.

What better sign of friendship is there than for Him to give
you what He gave Himself? It might well be that you would not
have had so great a reward from contemplation. His judgments
are His own; we must not meddle in them. It is indeed a good
thing that the choice is not ours; for, if it were, we should
think it the more restful life and all become great
contemplatives. Oh, how much we gain if we have no desire to
gain what seems to us best and so have no fear of losing,
since God never permits a truly mortified person to lose
anything except when such loss will bring him greater
gain!

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 18

Continues the same subject and shows how much
greater are the trials of contemplatives than those of
actives. This chapter offers great consolation to
actives.

I tell you, then, daughters—those of you whom God is not
leading by this road [of contemplation]—that, as I know
from what I have seen and been told by those who are following
this road, they are not bearing a lighter cross than you; you
would be amazed at all the ways and manners in which God sends
them crosses. I know about both types of life and I am well
aware that the trials given by God to contemplatives are
intolerable; and they are of such a kind that, were He not to
feed them with consolations, they could not be borne. It is
clear that, since God leads those whom He most loves by the
way of trials, the more He loves them, the greater will be
their trials; and there is no reason to suppose that He hates
contemplatives, since with His own mouth He praises them and
calls them friends.

To suppose that He would admit to His close friendship
pleasure-loving people who are free from all trials is
ridiculous. I feel quite sure that God gives them much
greater trials; and that He leads them by a hard and rugged
road, so that they sometimes think they are lost and will have
to go back and begin again. Then His Majesty is obliged to
give them sustenance—not water, but wine, so that they may
become inebriated by it and not realize what they are going
through and what they are capable of bearing. Thus I find few
true contemplatives who are not courageous and resolute in
suffering; for, if they are weak, the first thing the Lord
does is to give them courage so that they may fear no trials
that may come to them.

I think, when those who lead an active life occasionally see
contemplatives receiving consolations, they suppose that they
never experience anything else. But I can assure you that you
might not be able to endure their sufferings for as long as
a day. The point is that the Lord knows everyone as he really
is and gives each his work to do—according to what He sees
to be most fitting for his soul, and for His own Self, and for
the good of his neighbour. Unless you have omitted to prepare
yourselves for your work you need have no fear that it will be
lost. Note that I say we must all strive to do this, for we
are here for no other purpose; and we must not strive merely
for a year, or for two years or ten years, or it will look as
if we are abandoning our work like cowards. It is well that
the Lord should see we are not leaving anything undone. We are
like soldiers who, however long they have served, must always
be ready for their captain to send them away on any duty which
he wants to entrust to them, since it is he who is paying
them. And how much better is the payment given by our King
than by people on this earth! For the unfortunate soldiers
die, and God knows who pays them after that!

When their captain sees they are all present, and anxious for
service, he assigns duties to them according to their fitness,
though not so well as our Heavenly Captain. But if
they were not present, He would give them neither pay [52]nor service
orders. So practise mental prayer, sisters; or, if any of you
cannot do that, vocal prayer, reading and colloquies with God,
as I shall explain to you later. Do not neglect the hours of
prayer which are observed by all the nuns; you never know when
the Spouse will call you (do not let what happened to the
foolish virgins happen to you) and if He will give you fresh
trials under the disguise of consolations. If He does not, you
may be sure that you are not fit for them and that what you
are doing is suitable for you. That is where both merit and
humility come in, when you really think that you are not fit
for what you are doing.

Go cheerfully about whatever services you are ordered to do,
as I have said; if such a servant is truly humble she will be
blessed in her active life and will never make any complaint
save of herself. I would much rather be like her than like
some contemplatives. Leave others to wage their own
conflicts, which are not light ones. The standard-bearer is
not a combatant, yet none the less he is exposed to great
danger, and, inwardly, must suffer more than anyone, for he
cannot defend himself, as he is carrying the standard, which
he must not allow to leave his hands, even if he is cut to
pieces. Just so contemplatives have to bear aloft the standard
of humility and must suffer all the blows which are aimed at
them without striking any themselves. Their duty is to suffer
as Christ did, to raise the Cross on high, not to allow it to
leave their hands, whatever the perils in which they find
themselves, and not to let themselves be found backward in
suffering. It is for this reason that they are given such an
honourable duty. Let the contemplative consider what he is
doing; for, if he lets the standard fall, the battle will be
lost. Great harm, I think, is done to those who are not so far
advanced if those whom they consider as captains and friends
of God let them see them acting in a way unbefitting to their
office.

The other soldiers do as best they can; at times they will
withdraw from some position of extreme danger, and, as no one
observes them, they suffer no loss of honour. But these others
have all eyes fixed on them and cannot move. Their office,
then, is a noble one, and the King confers great honour and
favour upon anyone to whom He gives it, and who, in receiving
it, accepts no light obligation. So, sisters, as we do not
understand ourselves and know not what we ask, let us
leave everything to the Lord, Who knows us better than we
know ourselves. True humility consists in our being
satisfied with what is given us. There are some people
who seem to want to ask favours from God as a right. A pretty
kind of humility that is! He Who knows us all does well in
seldom giving things to such persons, He sees clearly that
they are unable to drink of His chalice.

If you want to know whether you have made progress or not,
sisters, you may be sure that you have if each of you thinks
herself the worst of all and shows that she thinks this by
acting for the profit and benefit of the rest. Progress has
nothing to do with enjoying the greatest number of
consolations in prayer, or with raptures, visions or favours
[often] given by the Lord, the value of which we cannot
estimate until we reach the world to come. The other things
I have been describing are current coin, an unfailing source
of revenue and a perpetual inheritance—not payments liable
at any time to cease, like those favours which are given us
and then come to an end. I am referring to the great virtues
of humility, mortification and an obedience so
extremely strict that we never go an inch beyond the
superior’s orders, knowing that these orders come from God
since she is in His place. It is to this duty of obedience
that you must attach the greatest importance. It seems to me
that anyone who does not have it is not a nun at all, and so
I am saying no more about it, as I am speaking to nuns whom
I believe to be good, or, at least, desirous of being so. So
well known is the matter, and so important, that a single word
will suffice to prevent you from forgetting it.

I mean that, if anyone is under a vow of obedience and goes
astray through not taking the greatest care to observe these
vows with the highest degree of perfection, I do not know why
she is in the convent. I can assure her, in any case, that,
for so long as she fails in this respect, she will never
succeed in leading the contemplative life, or even in leading
a good active life: of that I am absolutely certain. [53]And even a person who
has not this obligation, but who wishes or tries to achieve
contemplation, must, if she would walk safely, be fully
resolved to surrender her will to a confessor who is himself
a contemplative[54] and will understand her. It is
a well-known fact that she will make more progress in this way
in a year than in a great many years if she acts otherwise. As
this does not affect you, however, I will say no more about
it.

I conclude, my daughters, [by saying] that these are the
virtues which I desire you to possess and to strive to obtain
and of which you should cherish a holy envy. Do not be
troubled because you have no experience of those other kinds
of devotion: they are very unreliable. It may be that to some
people they come from God, and yet that if they came to you it
might be because His Majesty had permitted you to be deceived
and deluded by the devil, as He has permitted others:
there is danger in this for women. Why do you want to
serve the Lord in so doubtful a way when there are so many
ways of [serving Him in] safety? Who wants to plunge you into
these perils? I have said a great deal about this, because
I am sure it will be useful, for this nature of ours is weak,
though His Majesty will strengthen those on whom He wishes to
bestow contemplation. With regard to the rest, I am glad to
have given them this advice, which will teach contemplatives
humility also. If you say you have no need of it,
daughters, some of you may perhaps find it pleasant
reading. May the Lord, for His own sake, give us light
to follow His will in all things and we shall have no cause
for fear.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 19

Begins to treat of prayer. Addresses souls
who cannot reason with the understanding.

It is a long time [55]since I wrote the last chapter and I have had
no chance of returning to my writing, so that, without reading
through what I have written, I cannot remember what I said.
However, I must not spend too much time at this, so it will be
best if I go right on [56]without troubling about the
connection. For those with orderly minds, and for souls who
practise prayer and can be a great deal in their own company,
many books have been written, and these are so good and are
the work of such competent people that you would be making
a mistake if you paid heed to anything about prayer that you
learned from me. There are books, as I say, in which the
mysteries of the life of the Lord and of His sacred
Passion are described in short passages, one for each day of
the week; there are also meditations on the Judgment, on hell,
on our own nothingness and on all that we owe to God, and
these books are excellent both as to their teaching and as to
the way in which they plan the beginning and the end of the
time of prayer. [57]There is no need to tell anyone who is
capable of practising prayer in this way, and has already
formed the habit of doing so, that by this good road the Lord
will bring her to the harbour of light. If she begins so well,
her end will be good also; and all who can walk along this
road will walk restfully and securely, for one always walks
restfully when the understanding is kept in restraint. It is
something else that I wish to treat of and help you about if
the Lord is pleased to enable me to do so; if not, you will at
least realize that there are many souls who suffer this trial,
and you will not be so much distressed at undergoing it
yourselves at first, but will find some comfort in
it.

There are some souls, and some minds, as unruly as horses not
yet broken in. No one can stop them: now they go this way, now
that way; they are never still. Although a skilled rider
mounted on such a horse may not always be in danger, he
will be so sometimes; and, even if he is not concerned
about his life, there will always be the risk of his
stumbling,[58]so that he has to ride with great
care. Some people are either like this by nature or
God permits them to become so. I am very sorry for them; they
seem to me like people who are very thirsty and see water
a long way off, yet, when they try to go to it, find someone
who all the time is barring their path—at the beginning of
their journey, in the middle and at the end. And when, after
all their labour—and the labour is tremendous—they have
conquered the first of their enemies, they allow themselves to
be conquered by the second, and they prefer to die of thirst
rather than drink water which is going to cost them so much
trouble. Their strength has come to an end; their courage has
failed them; and, though some of them are strong enough to
conquer their second enemies as well as their first, when they
meet the third group their strength comes to an end, though
perhaps they are only a couple of steps from the fountain of
living water, of which the Lord said to the Samaritan woman
that whosoever drinks of it shall not thirst again. [59]How right and how
very true is that which comes from the lips of Truth
Himself! In this life the soul will never thirst for anything
more, although its thirst for things in the life to come will
exceed any natural thirst that we can imagine here below. How
the soul thirsts to experience this thirst! For it knows how
very precious it is, and, grievous though it be and
exhausting, it creates the very satisfaction by which this
thirst is allayed. It is therefore a thirst which quenches
nothing but desire for earthly things, and, when God slakes
it, satisfies in such a way that one of the greatest favours
He can bestow on the soul is to leave it with this longing, so
that it has an even greater desire to drink of this water
again.

Water has three properties—three relevant properties which
I can remember, that is to say, for it must have many more.
One of them is that of cooling things; however hot we are,
water tempers the heat, and it will even put out a large fire,
except when there is tar in the fire, in which case, they
say, it only burns the more. God help me! What
a marvellous thing it is that, when this fire is strong and
fierce and subject to none of the elements, water should make
it grow fiercer, and, though its contrary element, should not
quench it but only cause it to burn the more! It would be
very useful to be able to discuss this with someone who
understands philosophy; if I knew the properties of things
I could explain it myself; but, though I love thinking about
it, I cannot explain it—perhaps I do not even understand
it.

You will be glad, sisters, if God grants you to drink of this
water, as are those who drink of it now, and you will
understand how a genuine love of God, if it is really strong,
and completely free from earthly things, and able to rise
above them, is master of all the elements and of the whole
world. And, as water proceeds from the earth, there is no fear
of its quenching this fire, which is the love of God; though
the two elements are contraries, it has no power over it. The
fire is absolute master, and subject to nothing. You will not
be surprised, then, sisters, at the way I have insisted in
this book that you should strive to obtain this freedom. Is it
not a funny thing that a poor little nun of Saint
Joseph’s should attain mastery over the whole earth and all
the elements? What wonder that the saints did as they pleased
with them by the help of God? Fire and water obeyed Saint
Martin; even birds and fishes were obedient to Saint Francis;
and similarly with many other saints. Helped as they were
by God, and themselves doing all that was in their power,
they could almost have claimed this as a right. It was
clear that they were masters over everything in the world,
because they had striven so hard to despise it and subjected
themselves to the Lord of the world with all their might. So,
as I say, the water, which springs from the earth, has no
power over this fire. Its flames rise high and its source is
in nothing so base as the earth. There are other fires of love
for God—small ones, which may be quenched by the least
little thing. But this fire will most certainly not be so
quenched. [60]Even should a whole sea of temptations
assail it, they will not keep it from burning or prevent it
from gaining the mastery over them.

Water which comes down as rain from Heaven will quench the
flames even less, for in that case the fire and the water are
not contraries, but have the same origin. Do not fear that the
one element may harm the other; each helps the other and they
produce the same effect. For the water of genuine tears—
that is, tears which come from true prayer—is a good gift
from the King of Heaven; it fans the flames and keeps them
alight, while the fire helps to cool the water. God bless me!
What a beautiful and wonderful thing it is that fire should
cool water! But it does; and it even freezes all worldly
affections, when it is combined with the living water which
comes from Heaven, the source of the above-mentioned tears,
which are given us, and not acquired by our diligence.
Certainly, then, nothing worldly has warmth enough left in it
to induce us to cling to it unless it is something which
increases this fire, the nature of which is not to be easily
satisfied, but, if possible, to enkindle the entire world.

The second property of water is that it cleanses things that
are not clean already. What would become of the world if there
were no water for washing? Do you know what cleansing
properties there are in this living water, this heavenly
water, this clear water, when it is unclouded, and free from
mud, and comes down from Heaven? Once the soul has drunk of
it I am convinced that it makes it pure and clean of all its
sins; for, as I have written, God does not allow us to drink
of this water of perfect contemplation whenever we
like: the choice is not ours; this Divine union is something
quite supernatural, given that it may cleanse the soul and
leave it pure and free from the mud and misery in which it has
been plunged because of its sins. Other consolations,
excellent as they may be, which come through the intermediacy
of the understanding, are like water running all over the
ground. This cannot be drunk directly from the source; and its
course is never free from clogging impurities, so that it is
neither so pure nor so clean as the other. I should not say
that this prayer I have been describing, which comes from
reasoning with the intellect, is living water—I mean so far
as my understanding of it goes. For, despite our efforts,
there is always something clinging to the soul, through the
influence of the body and of the baseness of our nature, which
we should prefer not to be there.

I will explain myself further. We are meditating on the nature
of the world, and on the way in which everything will come to
an end, so that we may learn to despise it, when, almost
without noticing it, we find ourselves ruminating on things in
the world that we love. We try to banish these thoughts, but
we cannot help being slightly distracted by thinking of things
that have happened, or will happen, of things we have done and
of things we are going to do. Then we begin to think of how we
can get rid of these thoughts; and that sometimes plunges us
once again into the same danger. It is not that we ought to
omit such meditations; but we need to retain our misgivings
about them and not to grow careless. In contemplation the
Lord Himself relieves us of this care, for He will not trust
us to look after ourselves. So dearly does He love our souls
that He prevents them from rushing into things which may do
them harm just at this time when He is anxious to help them.
So He calls them to His side at once, and in a single moment
reveals more truths to them and gives them a clearer insight
into the nature of everything than they could otherwise gain
in many years. For our sight is poor and the dust which we
meet on the road blinds us; but in contemplation the Lord
brings us to the end of the day’s journey without our
understanding how.

The third property of water is that it satisfies and quenches
thirst. Thirst, I think, means the desire for something which
is very necessary for us—so necessary that if we have none
of it we shall die. It is a strange thing that if we have no
water we die, and that we can also lose our lives through
having too much of it, as happens to many people who get
drowned. Oh, my Lord, if only one could be plunged so deeply
into this living water that one’s life would end! Can that be?
Yes: this love and desire for God can increase so much that
human nature is unable to bear it, and so there have been
persons who have died of it. I knew one person [61]who had this living water in such
great abundance that she would almost have been drawn out of
herself by raptures if God had not quickly succoured her.
She had such a thirst, and her desire grew so greatly,
that she realized clearly that she might quite possibly die
of thirst if something were not done for her. I say
that she would almost have been drawn out of herself because
in this state the soul is in repose. So intolerable does such
a soul find the world that it seems to be overwhelmed, [62]but it comes
to life again in God; and in this way His Majesty enables it
to enjoy experiences which, if it had remained within itself,
would perforce have cost it its life.

Let it be understood from this that, as there can be nothing
in our supreme Good which is not perfect, all that He gives is
for our welfare; and, however abundant this water which He
gives may be, in nothing that He gives can there be
superfluity. For, if His gift is abundant, He also bestows on
the soul, as I have said, an abundant capacity for drinking;
just as a glassmaker moulds his vessels to the size he thinks
necessary, so that there is room for what he wishes to pour
into them. As our desires for this water come from ourselves,
they are never free from fault; any good that there may be in
them comes from the help of the Lord. But we are so indiscreet
that, as the pain is sweet and pleasant, we think we can never
have too much of it. We have an immeasurable longing for it,
[63]and, so far as is possible on earth, we
stimulate this longing: sometimes this goes so far as to cause
death. How happy is such a death! And yet by living one might
perhaps have helped others to die of the desire for it.
I believe the devil has something to do with this: knowing how
much harm we can do him by living, he tempts us to be
indiscreet in our penances and so to ruin our health, which is
a matter of no small moment to him.

I advise anyone who attains to an experience of this fierce
thirst to watch herself carefully, for I think she will have
to contend with this temptation. She may not die of her
thirst, but her health will be ruined, and she will
involuntarily give her feelings outward expression, which
ought at all costs to be avoided. Sometimes, however, all our
diligence in this respect is unavailing and we are unable to
hide our emotions as much as we should like. Whenever we are
assailed by these strong impulses stimulating the increase of
our desire, let us take great care not to add to them
ourselves but to check them gently [64]by
thinking of something else. For our own nature may be playing
as great a part in producing these feelings as our love. There
are some people of this type who have keen desires
for all kinds of things, even for bad things, but I do not
think such people can have achieved great mortification, for
mortification is always profitable. It seems foolish to check
so good a thing as this desire, but it is not. I am not saying
that the desire should be uprooted—only checked; one may be
able to do this by stimulating some other desire which is
equally praiseworthy.

In order to explain myself better I will give an illustration.
A man has a great desire to be with God, as Saint Paul had,
and to be loosed from this prison. [65]This causes him pain which yet is
in itself a great joy, and no small degree of mortification
will be needed if he is to check it—in fact, he will not
always be able to do so. But when he finds it oppressing him
so much he may almost lose his reason. I saw this happen to
someone not long ago; she was of an impetuous nature, but so
accustomed to curbing her own will that, from what I had seen
at other times, I thought her will was completely annihilated;
yet, when I saw her for a moment, the great stress and strain
caused by her efforts to hide her feelings had all but
destroyed her reason. [66]In such an extreme case, I think, even did
the desire come from the Spirit of God, it would be true
humility to be afraid; for we must not imagine that we have
sufficient charity to bring us to such a state of
oppression.

I shall not think it at all wrong (if it be possible, I mean,
for it may not always be so) for us to change our desire by
reflecting that, if we live, we have more chance of serving
God, and that we might do this by giving light to some soul
which otherwise would be lost; as well as that, if we serve
Him more, we shall deserve to enjoy Him more, and grieve that
we have served Him so little. These are consolations
appropriate to such great trials: they will allay our pain and
we shall gain a great deal by them if in order to serve the
Lord Himself we are willing to spend a long time here below
and to live with our grief. It is as if a person were
suffering a great trial or a grievous affliction and we
consoled him by telling him to have patience and leave himself
in God’s hands so that His will might be fulfilled in him: it
is always best to leave ourselves in God’s hands.

And what if the devil had anything to do with these strong
desires? This might be possible, as I think is suggested in
Cassian’s story of a hermit, leading the austerest of lives,
who was persuaded by the devil to throw himself down a well so
that he might see God the sooner. [67]I do not think this
hermit can have served God either humbly or efficiently, for
the Lord is faithful and His Majesty would never allow
a servant of His to be blinded in a matter in which the truth
was so clear. But, of course, if the desire had come from God,
it would have done the hermit no harm; for such desires bring
with them illumination, moderation and discretion. This is
fitting, but our enemy and adversary seeks to harm us wherever
he can; and, as he is not unwatchful, we must not be so
either. This is an important matter in many respects: for
example, we must shorten our time of prayer, however much joy
it gives us, if we see our bodily strength waning or find that
our head aches: discretion is most necessary in
everything.

Why do you suppose, daughters, that I have tried, as people
say, to describe the end of the battle before it has begun and
to point to its reward by telling you about the blessing which
comes from drinking of the heavenly source of this living
water? I have done this so that you may not be distressed at
the trials and annoyances of the road, and may tread it with
courage and not grow weary; for, as I have said, it may be
that, when you have arrived, and have only to stoop and drink
of the spring, you may fail to do so and lose this blessing,
thinking that you have not the strength to attain it and that
it is not for you.

Remember, the Lord invites us all; and, since He is Truth
Itself, we cannot doubt Him. If His invitation were not
a general one, He would not have said: “I will give you to
drink.” He might have said: “Come, all of you, for after all
you will lose nothing by coming; and I will give drink to
those whom I think fit for it.” But, as He said we were all to
come, without making this condition, I feel sure that none
will fail to receive this living water unless they cannot keep
to the path. [68]May the Lord, Who promises it, give us grace, for
His Majesty’s own sake, to seek it as it must be sought.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 20

Describes how, in one way or another, we
never lack consolation on the road of prayer. Counsels the
sisters to include this subject continually in their
conversation.

In this last chapter I seem to have been contradicting what
I had previously said, as, in consoling those who had not
reached the contemplative state, I told them that the Lord had
different roads by which they might come to Him, just as He
also had many mansions. [69]I now repeat
this: His Majesty, being Who He is and understanding our
weakness, has provided for us. But He did not say: “Some must
come by this way and others by that.” His mercy is so great
that He has forbidden none to strive to come and drink of this
fountain of life. Blessed be He for ever! What good reasons
there would have been for His forbidding me!

But as He did not order me to cease from drinking when I had
begun to do so, but caused me to be plunged into the depths of
the water, it is certain that He will forbid no one to come:
indeed, He calls us publicly, and in a loud voice, to do
so.[70] Yet, as He is
so good, He does not force us to drink, but enable those who
wish to follow Him to drink in many ways so that none may lack
comfort or die of thirst. For from this rich spring flow many
streams—some large, others small, and also little pools for
children, which they find quite large enough, for the sight of
a great deal of water would frighten them: by children, I mean
those who are in the early stages. [71]Therefore, sisters, have no fear that you will
die of thirst on this road; you will never lack so much of the
water of comfort that your thirst will be intolerable; so take
my advice and do not tarry on the way, but strive like strong
men until you die in the attempt, for you are here for nothing
else than to strive. If you always pursue this determination
to die rather than fail to reach the end of the road, the Lord
may bring you through this life with a certain degree of
thirst, but in the life which never ends He will give you
great abundance to drink and you will have no fear of its
failing you. May the Lord grant us never to fail Him.
Amen.

Now, in order to set out upon this aforementioned road so that
we do not go astray at the very start, let us consider for
a moment how the first stage of our journey is to be begun,
for that is the most important thing—or rather, every part
of the journey is of importance to the whole. I do not mean to
say that no one who has not the resolution that I am going to
describe should set out upon the road, for the Lord will
gradually bring her nearer to perfection. And even if she did
no more than take one step, this alone has such virtue that
there is no fear of her losing it or of failing to be very
well rewarded. We might compare her to someone who has
a rosary with a bead specially indulgenced: [72]one prayer in
itself will bring her something, and the more she uses the
bead the more she will gain; but if she left it in a box and
never took it out it would be better for her not to have it.
So, although she may never go any farther along the same road,
the short distance she has progressed will give her light and
thus help her to go along other roads, and the farther she
goes the more light she will gain. In fact, she may be sure
that she will do herself no kind of harm through having
started on the road, even if she leaves it, for good never
leads to evil. So, daughters, whenever you meet people and
find them well-disposed and even attracted to the life of
prayer, try to remove from them all fear of beginning a course
which may bring them such great blessings. [73]For the love of God, I beg you always to see
to it that your conversation is benefiting those with whom you
speak. For your prayers must be for the profit of their souls;
and, since you must always pray to the Lord for them, sisters,
you would seem to be doing ill if you did not strive to
benefit them in every possible way.

If you would be a good kinswoman, this is true friendship; if
you would be a good friend, you may be sure that this is the
only possible way. Let the truth be in your hearts, as it will
be if you practise meditation, and you will see clearly what
love we are bound to have for our neighbours. This is no time
for child’s play, sisters, and these worldly friendships, good
though they may be, seem no more than that. Neither with your
relatives nor with anyone else must you use such phrases as
“If you love me”, or “Don’t you love me?” unless you have in
view some noble end and the profit of the person to whom you
are speaking. It may be necessary, in order to get a relative
—a brother or some such person—to listen to the truth and
accept it, to prepare him for it by using such phrases and
showing him signs of love, which are always pleasing to sense.
He may possibly be more affected, and influenced, by one kind
word, as such phrases are called, than by a great deal which
you might say about God, and then there would be plenty of
opportunities for you to talk to him about God afterwards.
I do not forbid such phrases, therefore, provided you use them
in order to bring someone profit. But for no other reason can
there be any good in them and they may even do harm without
your being aware of it. Everybody knows that you are nuns and
that your business is prayer. Do not say to yourselves: “I
have no wish to be considered good,” for what people see in
you is bound to bring them either profit or harm. People like
nuns, on whom is laid the obligation to speak of nothing save
in the spirit of God, [74]act very wrongly if they dissemble in this way,
except occasionally for the purpose of doing greater good.
Your intercourse and conversation must be like this: let any
who wish to talk to you learn your language; and, if they will
not, be careful never to learn theirs: it might lead you to
hell.

It matters little if you are considered ill-bred and still
less if you are taken for hypocrites: indeed, you will gain by
this, because only those who understand your language will
come to see you. If one knows no Arabic, one has no desire to
talk a great deal with a person who knows no other language.
So worldly people will neither weary you nor do you harm—
and it would do you no small harm to have to begin to
learn and talk a new language; you would spend all
your time learning it. You cannot know as well as I do, for
I have found it out by experience, how very bad this is for
the soul; no sooner does it learn one thing than it has to
forget another and it never has any rest. This you must at all
costs avoid; for peace and quiet in the soul are of great
importance on the road which we are about to tread.

If those with whom you converse wish to learn your language,
it is not for you to teach it to them, but you can tell them
what wealth they will gain by learning it. Never grow tried of
this, but do it piously, lovingly and prayerfully, with a view
to helping them; they will then realize what great gain it
brings, and will go and seek a master to teach it
them. Our Lord would be doing you no light favour if through
your agency He were to arouse some soul to obtain this
blessing. When once one begins to describe this road, what
a large number of things there are to be said about it, even
by those who have trodden it as unsuccessfully as I have!
I only wish I could write with both hands, so as not to
forget one thing while I am saying another. May it
please the Lord, sisters, that you may be enabled to speak of
it better than I have done.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 21

Describes the great importance of setting out
upon the practice of prayer with firm resolution and of
heeding no difficulties put in the way by the devil.

Do not be dismayed, daughters, at the number of things which
you have to consider before setting out on this Divine
journey, which is the royal road to Heaven. [75]By taking this road we gain such
precious treasures that it is no wonder if the cost seems to
us a high one. The time will come when we shall realize that
all we have paid has been nothing at all by comparison with
the greatness of our prize.

Let us now return to those who wish to travel on this road,
and will not halt until they reach their goal, which is the
place where they can drink of this water of life. Although
in some book or other—in several, in fact—I have read
what a good thing it is to begin in this way, I do not
think anything will be lost if I speak of it here. As
I say, it is most important—all-important, indeed—that
they should begin well by making an earnest and most
determined resolve [76]not to halt until they reach
their goal, whatever may come, whatever may happen to them,
however hard they may have to labour, whoever may complain of
them, whether they reach their goal or die on the road or have
no heart to confront the trials which they meet, whether the
very world dissolves before them. Yet again and again people
will say to us: “It is dangerous”, “So-and-so was lost through
doing this”, “Someone else got into wrong ways”, “Some other
person, who was always praying, fell just the same”, “It is
bad for virtue”, “It is not meant for women; it may lead them
into delusions”, “They would do better to stick to their
spinning”, “These subtleties are of no use to them”, “It is
quite enough for them to say their Paternoster and Ave
Maria.”

With this last remark, sisters, I quite agree. Of course it is
enough! It is always a great thing to base your prayer on
prayers which were uttered by the very lips of the Lord.
People are quite right to say this, and, were it not for our
great weakness and the lukewarmness of our devotion, there
would be no need for any other systems of prayer or for any
other books at all. I am speaking to souls who are unable to
recollect themselves by meditating upon other mysteries, and
who think they need special methods of prayer; some people
have such ingenious minds [77]that nothing is good
enough for them! So I think I will start to lay down some
rules for each part of our prayer—beginning, middle and end
—although I shall not spend long on the higher stages. They
cannot take books from you, and, if you are studious and
humble, you need nothing more.

I have always been fond of the words of the Gospels and have
found more recollection in them than in the most carefully
planned books—especially books of which the authors were
not fully approved, and which I never wanted to read. If
I keep close to this Master of wisdom, He may perhaps give me
some thoughts[78] which will help you. I do not say that
I will explain these Divine prayers, for that I should not
presume to do, and there are a great many explanations of them
already. Even were there none, it would be ridiculous for me
to attempt any. But I will write down a few thoughts on the
words of the Paternoster; for sometimes, when we are most
anxious to nurture our devotion, consulting a great many books
will kill it. When a master is himself giving a lesson, he
treats his pupil kindly and likes him to enjoy being taught
and does his utmost to help him learn. Just so will this
heavenly Master do with us.

Pay no heed, then, to anyone who tries to frighten you or
depicts to you the perils of the way. What a strange idea that
one could ever expect to travel on a road infested by thieves,
for the purpose of gaining some great treasure, without
running into danger! Worldly people like to take life
peaceably; but they will deny themselves sleep, perhaps for
nights on end, in order to gain a farthing’s profit, and they
will leave you no peace either of body or of soul. If, when
you are on the way to gaining this treasure, or to taking it
by force (as the Lord says the violent do) and are travelling
by this royal road—this safe road trodden by our King and
by His elect and His saints—if even then they tell you it
is full of danger and make you so afraid, what will be the
dangers encountered by those who think they will be able to
gain this treasure and yet are not on the road to it?

Oh, my daughters, how incomparably greater must be the risks
they run! And yet they have no idea of this until they fall
headlong into some real danger. Having perhaps no one to help
them, they lose this water altogether, and drink neither much
nor little of it, either from a pool or from a stream. How do
you suppose they can do without a drop of this water and yet
travel along a road on which there are so many adversaries to
fight? Of course, sooner or later, they will die of thirst;
for we must all journey to this fountain, my daughters,
whether we will or no, though we may not all do so in the same
way. Take my advice, then, and let none mislead you by showing
you any other road than that of prayer.

I am not now discussing whether or no everyone must practise
mental or vocal prayer; but I do say that you yourselves
require both. For prayer is the duty of religious. If anyone
tells you it is dangerous, look upon that person himself as
your principal danger and flee from his company. Do not forget
this, for it is advice that you may possibly need. It will be
dangerous for you if you do not possess humility and the other
virtues; but God forbid that the way of prayer should be a way
of danger! This fear seems to have been invented by the devil,
who has apparently been very clever in bringing about the fall
of some who practise prayer.

See how blind the world is! It never thinks of all the
thousands who have fallen into heresies and other great evils
through yielding to distractions and not practising prayer. As
against these multitudes there are a few who did practise
prayer and whom the devil has been successful enough at his
own trade to cause to fall: in doing this he has also caused
some to be very much afraid of virtuous practices. Let those
who make use of this pretext to absolve themselves from such
practices take heed, for in order to save themselves from evil
they are fleeing from good. I have never heard of such
a wicked invention; it must indeed come from the devil. Oh, my
Lord, defend Thyself. See how Thy words are being
misunderstood. Permit no such weakness in Thy servants.

There is one great blessing—you will always find a few
people ready to help you. For it is a characteristic of the
true servant of God, to whom His Majesty has given light to
follow the true path, that, when beset by these fears, his
desire not to stop only increases. He sees clearly whence the
devil’s blows are coming, but he parries each blow and breaks
his adversary’s head. The anger which this arouses in the
devil is greater than all the satisfaction which he receives
from the pleasures given him by others. When, in troublous
times, he has sown his tares, and seems to be leading men
everywhere in his train, half-blinded, and [deceiving them
into] believing themselves to be zealous for the right, God
raises up someone to open their eyes and bid them look at the
fog with which the devil has obscured their path. (How great
God is! To think that just one man, or perhaps two, can do
more by telling the truth than can a great many men all
together!) And then they gradually begin to see the path again
and God gives them courage. If people say there is danger in
prayer, this servant of God, by his deeds if not by his words,
tries to make them realize what a good thing it is. If they
say that frequent communion is inadvisable, he only practises
it the more. So, because just one or two are fearlessly
following the better path, the Lord gradually regains what He
had lost.

Cease troubling about these fears, then, sisters; and never
pay heed to such matters of popular opinion. This is no time
for believing everyone; believe only those whom you see
modelling their lives on the life of Christ. Endeavour always
to have a good conscience; practise humility; despise all
worldly things; and believe firmly in the teaching of our Holy
Mother [the Roman] Church. You may then be quite sure that you
are on a [very] good road. Cease, as I have said, to have fear
where no fear is; if any one attempts to frighten you, point
out the road to him in all humility. Tell him that you have
a Rule which commands you, as it does, to pray without
ceasing, and that that rule you must keep. If they tell you
that you should practise only vocal prayer, ask whether your
mind and heart ought not to be in what you say. If they answer
“Yes”—and they cannot do otherwise—you see they are
admitting that you are bound to practise mental prayer, and
even contemplation, if God should grant it you. [Blessed be He
for ever.]

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 22

Explains the meaning of mental prayer.

You must know, daughters, that whether or no you are
practising mental prayer has nothing to do with keeping the
lips closed. If, while I am speaking with God, I have a clear
realization and full consciousness that I am doing so, and if
this is more real to me than the words I am uttering, then
I am combining mental and vocal prayer. When people tell you
that you are speaking with God by reciting the Paternoster and
thinking of worldly things—well, words fail me. When you
speak, as it is right for you to do, with so great a Lord, it
is well that you should think of Who it is that you are
addressing, and what you yourself are, if only that you may
speak to Him with proper respect. How can you address a king
with the deference due to him, or how can you know what
ceremonies have to be used when speaking to a grandee, unless
you are clearly conscious of the nature of his position and of
yours? It is because of this, and because it is the custom to
do so, that you must behave respectfully to him, and must
learn what the custom is, and not be careless about such
things, or you will be dismissed as a simpleton
and obtain none of the things you desire. And furthermore,
unless you are quite conversant with it, you must get all
necessary information, and have what you are going to say
written down for you. It once happened to me, when I was
not accustomed to addressing aristocrats, that I had to go
on a matter of urgent business to see a lady who had to be
addressed as “Your Ladyship”.[79]I was shown that
word in writing; but I am stupid, and had never used such
a term before; so when I arrived I got it wrong. So
I decided to tell her about it and she laughed heartily and
told me to be good enough to use the ordinary form of
polite address,[80]which I did.

How is it, my Lord, how is it, my Emperor, that Thou canst
suffer this, Prince of all Creation? For Thou, my
God, art a King without end, and Thine is no borrowed Kingdom,
but Thine own, and it will never pass away. When the
Creed says “Whose Kingdom shall have no end” the phrase nearly
always makes me feel particularly happy. I praise Thee, Lord,
and bless Thee, and all things praise Thee for ever
—for Thy Kingdom will endure for ever. Do Thou never allow
it to be thought right, Lord, for those who praise Thee
and come to speak with Thee to do so with their lips
alone. What do you mean, Christians, when you say that mental
prayer is unnecessary? Do you understand what you are saying?
I really do not think you can. And so you want us all to go
wrong: you cannot know what mental prayer is, or how vocal
prayers should be said, or what is meant by contemplation.
For, if you knew this, you would not condemn on the one hand
what you praise on the other.

Whenever I remember to do so, I shall always speak of mental
and vocal prayer together, daughters, so that you may not be
alarmed. I know what such fears lead to, [81]for I have suffered
a certain number of trials in this respect, and so I should be
sorry if anyone were to unsettle you, for it is very bad for
you to have misgivings while you are walking on this path. It
is most important that you should realize you are making
progress; for if a traveller is told that he has taken the
wrong road, and has lost his way, he begins to wander to and
fro and the constant search for the right road tires him,
wastes his time and delays his arrival. Who can say that it is
wrong if, before we begin reciting the Hours or the Rosary, we
think Whom we are going to address, and who we are that are
addressing Him, so that we may do so in the way we should?
I assure you, sisters, that if you gave all due attention to
a consideration of these two points before beginning the vocal
prayers which you are about to say you would be engaging in
mental prayer for a very long time. For we cannot approach
a prince and address him in the same careless way that we
should adopt in speaking to a peasant or to some poor woman
like ourselves, whom we may address however we like.

The reason we sometimes do so is to be found in the humility
of this King, Who, unskilled though I am in speaking with Him,
does not refuse to hear me or forbid me to approach Him, or
command His guards to throw me out. For the angels in His
presence know well that their King is such that He prefers the
unskilled language of a humble peasant boy, knowing that he
would say more if he had more to say, to the speech of the
wisest and most learned men, however elegant may be their
arguments, if these are not accompanied by humility. But we
must not be unmannerly because He is good. If only to show our
gratitude to Him for enduring our foul odour and allowing such
a one as myself to come near Him, it is well that we should
try to realize His purity and His nature. It is true that we
recognize this at once when we approach Him, just as we do
when we visit the lords of the earth. Once we are told about
their fathers’ names and their incomes and dignities, there is
no more for us to know about them; for on earth one makes
account of persons, and honours them, not because of their
merits but because of their possessions.

O miserable world! Give hearty praise to God, daughters, that
you have left so wretched a place, [82]where people
are honoured, not for their own selves, but for what they get
from their tenants and vassals: if these fail them, they have
no honour left. It is a curious thing, and when you go out to
recreation together you should laugh about it, for it is
a good way of spending your time to reflect how blindly people
in the world spend theirs.

O Thou our Emperor! Supreme Power, Supreme Goodness, Wisdom
Itself, without beginning, without end and without measure in
Thy works: infinite are these and incomprehensible,
a fathomless ocean of wonders, O Beauty [83]containing
within Thyself all beauties. O Very Strength! God help me!
Would that I could command all the eloquence of mortals and
all wisdom, so as to understand, as far as is possible here
below, that to know nothing is everything, and thus to
describe some of the many things on which we may meditate in
order to learn something of the nature of this our Lord and
Good.

When you approach God, then, try [84]to think and realize Whom you are
about to address and continue to do so while you are
addressing Him. If we had a thousand lives, we should never
fully understand how this Lord merits that we behave toward
Him, before Whom even the angels tremble. He orders all things
and He can do all things: with Him to will is to perform. It
will be right, then, daughters, for us to endeavour to rejoice
in these wondrous qualities of our Spouse and to know Whom we
have wedded and what our lives should be. Why, God save us,
when a woman in this world is about to marry, she knows
beforehand whom she is to marry, what sort of a person he is
and what property he possesses. Shall not we, then, who are
already betrothed, think about our Spouse, [85]before
we are wedded to Him and He takes us home to be with Him? If
these thoughts are not forbidden to those who are betrothed to
men on earth, how can we be forbidden to discover Who this Man
is, Who is His Father, what is the country to which He will
take me, what are the riches with which He promises to endow
me, what is His rank, how I can best make Him happy, what
I can do that will give Him pleasure, and how I can bring my
rank into line with His. If a woman is to be happy in her
marriage, it is just those things that she is advised to see
about, even though her husband be a man of very low
station.

Shall less respect be paid to Thee, then, my Spouse, than to
men? If they think it unfitting to do Thee honour, let them at
least leave Thee Thy brides, who are to spend their lives with
Thee. A woman is indeed fortunate in her life if her husband
is so jealous that he will allow her to speak with no one but
himself; it would be a pretty pass if she could not resolve to
give him this pleasure, for it is reasonable enough that she
should put up with this and not wish to converse with anyone
else, since in him she has all that she can desire. To
understand these truths, my daughters, is to practise mental
prayer. If you wish to learn to understand them, and at the
same time to practise vocal prayer, well and good. But do not,
I beg you, address God while you are thinking of other things,
for to do that is the result of not understanding what mental
prayer is. I think I have made this clear. May the Lord grant
us to learn how to put it into practice. Amen.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 23

Describes the importance of not turning back
when one has set out upon the way of prayer. Repeats how
necessary it is to be resolute.

Now, as I have said, it is most important that from the first
we should be very resolute, and for this there are so many
reasons that if I were to give them all I should have to write
at great length. Some of them are given in other
books. I will tell you just two or three of them,
sisters. One is that when we decide to give anything—such
as this slight effort of recollection [86]—to Him Who has given us so much, and
Who is continually giving, it would be wrong for us not to be
entirely resolute in doing so and to act like a person who
lends something and expects to get it back again. (Not that we
do not receive interest: on the contrary, we gain a great
deal.) I do not call this “giving”. Anyone who has been lent
something always feels slightly displeased when the lender
wants it back again, especially if he is using it himself and
has come to look upon it as his own. If the two are friends
and the lender is indebted to the recipient for many things of
which he has made him free gifts, he will think it meanness
and a great lack of affection if he will leave not even the
smallest thing in his possession, merely as a sign of
love.

What wife is there who, after receiving many valuable jewels
from her husband, will not give him so much as a ring—which
he wants, not because of its value, for all she has is his,
but as a sign of love and a token that she will be
his until she dies? Does the Lord deserve less than this that
we should mock Him by taking away the worthless gift [87]which we have given Him? Since we
have resolved to devote to Him this very brief period of time
—only a small part of what we spend upon ourselves and upon
people who are not particularly grateful to us for it—let
us give it Him freely, with our minds unoccupied by other
things and entirely resolved never to take it back again,
whatever we may suffer through trials, annoyances or
aridities. Let me realize that this time is being lent me and
is not my own, and feel that I can rightly be called to
account for it if I am not prepared to devote it wholly to
God.

I say “wholly”, but we must not be considered as taking it
back if we should fail to give it Him for a day, or for a few
days, because of legitimate occupations or through some
indisposition. Provided the intention remains firm, my God is
not in the least meticulous; [88]He does not look at trivial details; and,
if you are trying to please Him in any way, He will assuredly
accept that as your gift. The other way is suitable for
ungenerous souls, so mean that they are not large-hearted
enough to give but find it as much as they can do to lend.
Still, let them make some effort, for this Lord of ours will
reckon everything we do to our credit and accept everything we
want to give Him. In drawing up our reckoning, He is not in
the least exacting, but generous; however large the amount we
may owe Him, it is a small thing for Him to forgive us. And,
as to paying us, He is so careful about this that you need
have no fear He will leave us without our reward if only we
raise our eyes to Heaven and remember Him.

A second reason why we should be resolute is that this will
give the devil less opportunity to tempt us. He is very much
afraid of resolute souls, knowing by experience that they
inflict great injury upon him, and, when he plans to do them
harm, he only profits them and others and is himself the
loser. We must not become unwatchful, or count upon this, for
we have to do with treacherous folk, who are great cowards and
dare not attack the wary, but, if they see we are careless,
will work us great harm. And if they know anyone to be
changeable, and not resolute in doing what is good
and firmly determined to persevere, they will not leave him
alone either by night or by day and will suggest to him
endless misgivings and difficulties. This I know very well by
experience and so I have been able to tell you about it: I am
sure that none of us realize its great importance.

Another reason, very much to the point, is that a resolute
person fights more courageously. He knows that, come what may,
he must not retreat. He is like a soldier in battle who is
aware that if he is vanquished his life will not be spared and
that if he escapes death in battle he must die afterwards.
It has been proved, I think, that such a man will
fight more resolutely and will try, as they say, to sell his
life dearly, fearing the enemy’s blows the less because he
understands the importance of victory and knows that his very
life depends upon his gaining it. We must also be
firmly convinced from the start that, if we fight
courageously and do not allow ourselves to be beaten,
we shall get what we want, and there is no doubt that, however
small our gains may be, they will make us very rich. Do not be
afraid that the Lord Who has called us to drink of this spring
will allow you to die of thirst. This I have already said and
I should like to repeat it; for people are often timid when
they have not learned by experience of the Lord’s goodness,
even though they know of it by faith. It is a great thing to
have experienced what friendship and joy He gives to those who
walk on this road and how He takes almost the whole cost of it
upon Himself.

I am not surprised that those who have never made this test
should want to be sure that they will receive some interest on
their outlay. But you already know that even in this life we
shall receive a hundredfold, and that the Lord says: “Ask and
it shall be given you.” [89]If you do not believe His Majesty in those
passages of His Gospel where He gives us this assurance, it
will be of little help to you, sisters, for me to weary my
brains by telling you of it. Still, I will say to anyone who
is in doubt that she will lose little by putting the matter to
the test; for this journey has the advantage [90]of giving us
very much more than we ask or shall even get so far
as to desire. This is a never-failing truth: I know it;
though, if you do not find it so, do not believe any of
the things I tell you. I can call as witnesses those
of you who, by God’s goodness, know it from experience.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 24

Describes how vocal prayer may be practised
with perfection and how closely allied it is to mental
prayer.

Let us now return to speak of those souls I have mentioned who
cannot practise recollection or tie down their minds to mental
prayer or make a meditation. We must not talk to them of
either of those two things—they will not hear of them; as
a matter of fact, there are a great many people who seem
terrified at the very name of contemplation or mental
prayer.

In case any such person should come to this house (for, as
I have said, not all are led by the same path), I want to
advise you, or, I might even say, to teach you (for, as your
mother, and by the office of prioress which I hold, I have the
right to do so) how you must practise vocal prayer, for it is
right that you should understand what you are saying. Anyone
unable to think of God may find herself wearied by long
prayers, and so I will not begin to discuss these, but will
speak simply of prayers which, as Christians, we must perforce
recite—namely, the Paternoster and the Ave Maria—and
then no one will be able to say of us that we are repeating
words without understanding what we are saying. We may, of
course, consider it enough to say our prayers as a mere habit,
repeating the words and thinking that this will suffice.
Whether it suffices or no I will not now discuss.[91] Learned men must decide: they will
instruct people to whom God gives light to consult them,
and I will not discuss the position of those who have not
made a profession like our own. But what I should
like, daughters, is for us not to be satisfied with that
alone: when I say the Creed, it seems to me right, and
indeed obligatory, that I should understand and know
what it is that I believe; and, when I repeat the “Our
Father”, my love should make me want to understand Who this
Father of ours is and Who the Master is that taught us this
prayer.

If you assert that you know Who He is already, and so there is
no need for you to think about Him, you are not right; there
is a great deal of difference between one master and another,
and it would be very wrong of us not to think about those who
teach us, even on earth; if they are holy men and spiritual
masters, and we are good pupils, it is impossible for us
not to have great love for them, and indeed to hold them
in honour and often to talk about them. And when it
comes to the Master Who taught us this prayer, and Who loves
us so much and is so anxious for us to profit by it, may God
forbid that we should fail to think of Him often when we
repeat it, although our own weakness may prevent us from doing
so every time.

Now, in the first place, you know that His Majesty teaches
that this prayer must be made when we are alone, just as He
was often alone when He prayed, not because this was necessary
for Him, but for our edification. It has already been said
that it is impossible to speak to God and to the world at the
same time; yet this is just what we are trying to do when we
are saying our prayers and at the same time listening to the
conversation of others or letting our thoughts wander on any
matter that occurs to us, without making an effort to control
them. There are occasions when one cannot help doing this:
times of ill-health (especially in persons who suffer from
melancholia); or times when our heads are tired, and, however
hard we try, we cannot concentrate; or times when, for their
own good, God allows His servants for days on end to go
through great storms. And, although they are distressed and
strive to calm themselves, they are unable to do so and
incapable of attending to what they are saying, however hard
they try, nor can they fix their understanding on anything:
they seem to be in a frenzy, so distraught are they.

The very suffering of anyone in this state will show her that
she is not to blame, and she must not worry, for that only
makes matters worse, nor must she weary herself by trying to
put sense into something—namely, her mind—which for the
moment is without any. She should pray as best she can:
indeed, she need not pray at all, but may try to rest her
spirit as though she were ill and busy herself with some other
virtuous action. These directions are meant for persons who
keep careful guard over themselves and know that they must not
speak to God and to the world at the same time. What we can do
ourselves is to try to be alone—and God grant that this may
suffice, as I say, to make us realize in Whose presence we are
and how the Lord answers our petitions. Do you suppose that,
because we cannot hear Him, He is silent? He speaks clearly to
the heart when we beg Him from our hearts to do so. It would
be a good idea for us to imagine [92]that He has taught
this prayer to each one of us individually, and that He is
continually expounding it to us. The Master is never so far
away that the disciple needs to raise his voice in order to be
heard: He is always right at his side. I want you to
understand that, if you are to recite the Paternoster well,
one thing is needful: you must not leave the side of the
Master Who has taught it you.

You will say at once that this is meditation, and that you are
not capable of it, and do not even wish to practise it, but
are content with vocal prayer. For there are impatient people
who dislike giving themselves trouble, and it is troublesome
at first to practise recollection of the mind when one has not
made it a habit. So, in order not to make themselves the least
bit tired, they say they are incapable of anything but vocal
prayer and do not know how to do anything further. You are
right to say that what we have described is mental prayer; but
I assure you that I cannot distinguish it from vocal prayer
faithfully recited with a realization of Who it is that we are
addressing. Further, we are under the obligation of trying to
pray attentively: may God grant that, by using these means, we
may learn to say the Paternoster well and not find ourselves
thinking of something irrelevant. I have sometimes experienced
this myself, and the best remedy I have found for it is to try
to fix my mind on the Person by Whom the words were first
spoken. Have patience, then, and try to make this necessary
practice into a habit, for necessary it is, in my opinion,
for those who would be nuns, and indeed for all who would
pray like good Christians.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 25

Describes the great gain which comes to
a soul when it practises vocal prayer perfectly. Shows how God
may raise it thence to things supernatural.

In case you should think there is little gain to be derived
from practising vocal prayer perfectly, I must tell you that,
while you are repeating the Paternoster or some other vocal
prayer, it is quite possible for the Lord to grant you perfect
contemplation. In this way His Majesty shows that He is
listening to the person who is addressing Him, and that, in
His greatness, He is addressing her, [93]by suspending the understanding,
putting a stop to all thought, and, as we say, taking the
words out of her mouth, so that even if she wishes to speak
she cannot do so, or at any rate not without great
difficulty.

Such a person understands that, without any sound of words,
she is being taught by this Divine Master, Who is suspending
her faculties, which, if they were to work, would be causing
her harm rather than profit. The faculties rejoice without
knowing how they rejoice; the soul is enkindled in love
without understanding how it loves; it knows that it is
rejoicing in the object of its love, yet it does not know how
it is rejoicing in it. It is well aware that this is not a joy
which can be attained by the understanding; the will embraces
it, without understanding how; but, in so far as it can
understand anything, it perceives that this is a blessing
which could not be gained by the merits of all the trials
suffered on earth put together. It is a gift of the Lord of
earth and Heaven, Who gives it like the God He is. This,
daughters, is perfect contemplation.

You will now understand how different it is from mental
prayer, which I have already described, and which consists in
thinking of what we are saying, understanding it, and
realizing Whom we are addressing, and who we are that are
daring to address so great a Lord. To think of this and other
similar things, such as how little we have served Him and how
great is our obligation to serve Him, is mental prayer. Do not
think of it as one more thing with an outlandish name [94]and do not let the name
frighten you. To recite the Paternoster and the Ave Maria, or
any other petition you like, is vocal prayer. But think how
harsh your music will be without what must come first;
sometimes even the words will get into the wrong order. In
these two kinds of prayer, with God’s help, we may accomplish
something ourselves. In the contemplation which I have just
described we can do nothing. It is His Majesty Who does
everything; the work is His alone and far transcends human
nature.

I described this as well as I was able in the relation which
I made of it, as I have said, so that my confessors should see
it when they read the account of my life which they had
ordered me to write. As I have explained all this about
contemplation at such length, therefore, I shall not repeat
myself here and I am doing no more than touch upon it. If
those of you who have experienced the happiness of being
called by the Lord to this state of contemplation can get this
book, you will find in it points and counsels which the Lord
was pleased to enable me to set down. These should bring you
great comfort and profit—in my opinion, at least, and in
the opinion of several people who have seen it and who keep it
at hand in order to make frequent use of it. I am ashamed to
tell you that anything of mine is made such use of and the
Lord knows with what confusion I write a great deal that I do.
Blessed be He for thus bearing with me. Those of you who, as
I say, have experience of supernatural prayer should procure
the book after my death; those who have not have no need to do
so but they should try to carry out what has been said in this
one. Let them leave everything to the Lord, to Whom it belongs
to grant this gift, and He will not deny it you if you do not
tarry on the road but press forward so as to reach the end of
your journey.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 26

Continues the description of a method for
recollecting the thoughts. Describes means of doing this. This
chapter is very profitable for those who are beginning
prayer.

Let us now return to our vocal prayer, so that we may learn to
pray in such a way that, without our understanding how, God
may give us everything at once: if we do this, as I have said,
we shall pray as we ought. As you know, the first things must
be examination of conscience, confession of sin and the
signing of yourself with the Cross. Then, daughter, as you are
alone, you must look for a companion—and who could be
a better Companion than the very Master Who taught you the
prayer that you are about to say? Imagine that this Lord
Himself is at your side and see how lovingly and how humbly He
is teaching you—and, believe me, you should stay with so
good a Friend for as long as you can before you leave Him. If
you become accustomed to having Him at your side, and if He
sees that you love Him to be there and are always trying to
please Him, you will never be able, as we put it, to send Him
away, nor will He ever fail you. He will help you in all your
trials and you will have Him everywhere. Do you think it is
a small thing to have such a Friend as that beside you?

O sisters, those of you whose minds cannot reason for long or
whose thoughts cannot dwell upon God but are
constantly wandering must at all costs form this
habit. I know quite well that you are capable of it—for
many years I endured this trial of being unable to concentrate
on one subject, and a very sore trial it is. But I know the
Lord does not leave us so devoid of help that if we approach
Him humbly and ask Him to be with us He will not grant our
request. If a whole year passes without our obtaining what we
ask, let us be prepared to try for longer. Let us never grudge
time so well spent. Who, after all, is hurrying us? I am sure
we can form this habit and strive to walk at the side of this
true Master.

I am not asking you now to think of Him, or to form numerous
conceptions of Him, or to make long and subtle meditations
with your understanding. I am asking you only to look at Him.
For who can prevent you from turning the eyes of your soul
(just for a moment, if you can do no more) upon this Lord? You
are capable of looking at very ugly and loathsome
things: can you not, then, look at the most beautiful thing
imaginable? Your Spouse never takes His eyes off you,
daughters. He has borne with thousands of foul and abominable
sins which you have committed against Him, yet even they have
not been enough to make Him cease looking upon you. Is it such
a great matter, then, for you to avert the eyes of your
soul from outward things and sometimes to look at Him?
See, He is only waiting for us to look at Him, as He says to
the Bride. [95]you will find Him. He longs so much for us to
look at Him once more that it will not be for lack of effort
on His part if we fail to do so.

A wife, they say, must be like this if she is to have a happy
married life with her husband. If he is sad, she must show
signs of sadness; if he is merry, even though she may not in
fact be so, she must appear merry too. See what slavery you
have escaped from, sisters! Yet this, without any pretence, is
really how we are treated by the Lord. He becomes subject to
us and is pleased to let you be the mistress and to conform to
your will. If you are happy, look upon your risen Lord, and
the very thought of how He rose from the sepulchre will
gladden you. How bright and how beautiful was He then! How
majestic! [96]How victorious! How joyful! He was like one
emerging from a battle in which He had gained a great kingdom,
all of which He desires you to have—and with it Himself. Is
it such a great thing that you should turn your eyes but once
and look upon Him Who has made you such great gifts?

If you are suffering trials, or are sad, look upon Him on His
way to the Garden. What sore distress He must have borne in
His soul, to describe His own suffering as He did and to
complain of it! Or look upon Him bound to the Column, full of
pain, His flesh all torn to pieces by His great love for you.
How much He suffered, persecuted by some, spat upon by others,
denied by His friends, and even deserted by them, with none to
take His part, frozen with the cold and left so completely
alone that you may well comfort each other! Or look upon Him
bending under the weight of the Cross and not even allowed to
take breath: He will look upon you with His lovely and
compassionate eyes, full of tears, and in comforting your
grief will forget His own because you are bearing Him company
in order to comfort Him and turning your head to look upon
Him.

“O Lord of the world, my true Spouse!” you may say to Him, if
seeing Him in such a plight has filled your heart with such
tenderness that you not only desire to look upon Him but love
to speak to Him, not using forms of prayer, but words issuing
from the compassion of your heart, which means so much to Him:
“Art Thou so needy, my Lord and my Good, that Thou wilt accept
poor companionship like mine? Do I read in Thy face that Thou
hast found comfort, even in me? How can it be possible, Lord,
that the angels are leaving Thee alone and that Thy Father is
not comforting Thee?

“If Thou, Lord, art willing to suffer all this for me, what am
I suffering for Thee? What have I to complain of? I am
ashamed, Lord, when I see Thee in such a plight, and if in any
way I can imitate Thee I will suffer all trials that come to
me and count them as a great blessing. Let us go both
together, Lord: whither Thou goest, I must go; through
whatsoever Thou passest, I must pass.” Take up this cross,
sisters: never mind if the Jews trample upon you provided you
can save Him some of His trials. Take no heed of what they say
to you; be deaf to all detraction; stumble and fall with your
Spouse, but do not draw back from your cross or give it up.
Think often of the weariness of His journey and of how much
harder His trials were than those which you have to suffer.
However hard you may imagine yours to be, and however much
affliction they may cause you, they will be a source of
comfort to you, for you will see that they are matters for
scorn compared with the trials endured by the Lord.

You will ask me, sisters, how you can possibly do all this,
and say that, if you had seen His Majesty with your bodily
eyes at the time when He lived in the world, you would have
done it willingly and gazed at Him for ever. Do not believe
it: anyone who will not make the slight effort necessary for
recollection in order to gaze upon this Lord present within
her, which she can do without danger and with only the minimum
of trouble, would have been far less likely to stand at the
foot of the Cross with the Magdalen, who looked death (as
they say) straight in the face. What the glorious
Virgin and this blessed saint must have suffered! What
threats, what malicious words, what shocks, what insults! For
the people they were dealing with were not exactly polite to
them. No, indeed; theirs was the kind of courtesy you might
meet in hell, for they were the ministers of the devil
himself. Yet, terrible as the sufferings of these women must
have been, they would not have noticed them in the presence of
pain so much greater.

So do not suppose, sisters, that you would have been prepared
to endure such great trials then, if you are not ready for
such trifling ones now. Practise enduring these and you may be
given others which are greater. Believe that I am telling
the truth when I say that you can do this, for I am
speaking from experience. You will find it very
helpful if you can get an image or a picture of this Lord—
one that you like—not to wear round your neck and never
look at but to use regularly whenever you talk to Him, and He
will tell you what to say. If words do not fail you when you
talk to people on earth, why should they do so when
you talk to God? Do not imagine that they will—I shall
certainly not believe that they have done so if you once form
the habit. For when you never have intercourse with a person
he soon becomes a stranger to you, and you forget how to talk
to him; and before long, even if he is a kinsman, you feel as
if you do not know him, for both kinship and friendship lose
their influence when communication ceases.

It is also a great help to have a good book, written in the
vernacular, simply as an aid to recollection. With this aid
you will learn to say your vocal prayers well, I mean, as
they ought to be said—and little by little,
persuasively and methodically, you will get your soul used to
this, so that it will no longer be afraid of it. Remember that
many years have passed since it went away from its Spouse, and
it needs very careful handling before it will return home. We
sinners are like that: we have accustomed our souls and minds
to go after their own pleasures (or pains, it would be more
correct to say) until the unfortunate soul no longer knows
what it is doing. When that has happened, a good deal of skill
is necessary before it can be inspired with enough love to
make it stay at home; but unless we can gradually do that we
shall accomplish nothing. Once again I assure you that, if you
are careful to form habits of the kind I have mentioned, you
will derive such great profit from them that I could not
describe it even if I wished. Keep at the side of this good
Master, then, and be most firmly resolved to learn what He
teaches you; His Majesty will then ensure your not failing to
be good disciples, and He will never leave you unless you
leave Him. Consider the words uttered by those Divine lips:
the very first of them will show you at once what love He has
for you, and it is no small blessing and joy for the pupil to
see that his Master loves Him.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 27

Describes the great love shown us by the Lord
in the first words of the Paternoster and the great importance
of our making no account of good birth if we truly desire to
be the daughters of God.

“Our Father, which art in the Heavens.” O my Lord, how Thou
dost reveal Thyself as the Father of such a Son, while Thy Son
reveals Himself as the Son of such a Father! Blessed be Thou
for ever and ever. Ought not so great a favour as this, Lord,
to have come at the end of the prayer? Here, at the very
beginning, Thou dost fill our hands and grant us so great
a favour that it would be a very great blessing if our
understanding could be filled with it so that the will would
be occupied and we should be unable to say another word. Oh,
how appropriate, daughters, would perfect contemplation be
here! Oh, how right would the soul be to enter within itself,
so as to be the better able to rise above itself, that this
holy Son might show it the nature of the place where He says
His Father dwells—namely, the Heavens! Let us leave earth,
my daughters, for it is not right that a favour like this
should be prized so little, and that, after we have realized
how great this favour is, we should remain on earth any
more.

O Son of God and my Lord! How is it that Thou canst give us so
much with Thy first word? It is so wonderful that Thou
shouldst descend to such a degree of humility as to join with
us when we pray and make Thyself the Brother of creatures so
miserable and lowly! How can it be that, in the name of Thy
Father, Thou shouldst give us all that there is to be given,
by willing Him to have us as His children—and Thy word
cannot fail? [It seems that] Thou dost oblige Him to fulfil
Thy word, a charge by no means light, since, being our Father,
He must bear with us, however great our offences. If we
return to Him, He must pardon us, as He pardoned the prodigal
son, must comfort us in our trials, and must sustain us, as
such a Father is bound to do, for He must needs be better than
any earthly father, since nothing good can fail to have its
perfection in Him. He must cherish us; He must sustain
us; and at the last He must make us participants and
fellow-heirs with Thee.

Behold, my Lord, with the love that Thou hast for us and with
Thy humility, nothing can be an obstacle to Thee. And then,
Lord, Thou hast been upon earth and by taking our nature upon
Thee hast clothed Thyself with humanity: Thou hast therefore
some reason to care for our advantage. But behold, Thy Father
is in Heaven, as Thou hast told us, and it is right that Thou
shouldst consider His honour. Since Thou hast offered Thyself
to be dishonoured by us, leave Thy Father free. Oblige Him not
to do so much for people as wicked as I, who will make Him
such poor acknowledgment.

O good Jesus! How clearly hast Thou shown that Thou art One
with Him and that Thy will is His and His is Thine! How open
a confession is this, my Lord! What is this love that Thou
hast for us? Thou didst deceive the devil, and conceal from
him that Thou art the Son of God, but Thy great desire for our
welfare overcomes all obstacles to Thy granting us this
greatest of favours. Who but Thou could do this, Lord?
I cannot think how the devil failed to understand from that
word of Thine Who Thou wert, beyond any doubt. I, at least,
my Jesus, see clearly that Thou didst speak as a dearly
beloved son both for Thyself and for us, and Thou hast such
power that what Thou sayest in Heaven shall be done on earth.
Blessed be Thou for ever, my Lord, Who lovest so much to give
that no obstacle can stay Thee.

Do you not think, daughters, that this is a good Master, since
He begins by granting us this great favour so as to make us
love to learn what He teaches us? Do you think it would be
right for us, while we are repeating this prayer with our
lips, to stop trying to think of what we are saying, lest
picturing such love should tear our hearts to pieces? No one
who realized His greatness could possibly say it would be.
What son is there in the world who would not try to learn who
his father was if he had one as good, and of as great majesty
and dominion, as ours? Were God not all this, it would not
surprise me if we had no desire to be known as His children;
for the world is such that, if the father is of lower rank
than his son, the son feels no honour in recognizing him as
his father. This does not apply here: God forbid that such
a thing should ever happen in this house—it would turn the
place into hell. Let the sister who is of the highest birth
speak of her father least; we must all be equals.

O College of Christ, in which the Lord was pleased that Saint
Peter, who was a fisherman, should have more authority than
Saint Bartholomew, who was the son of a king! His Majesty knew
what a fuss would be made in the world about who was fashioned
from the finer clay—which is like discussing whether clay
is better for bricks or for walls. Dear Lord, what a trouble
we make about it! God deliver you, sisters, from such
contentions, even if they be carried on only in jest; I hope
that His Majesty will indeed deliver you. If anything like
this should be going on among you, apply the remedy
immediately, and let the sister concerned fear lest she be
a Judas among the Apostles. Do what you can to get rid of
such a bad companion. If you cannot, give her penances
heavier than for anything else until she realizes
that she has not deserved to be even the basest clay. You have
a good Father, given you by the good Jesus: let no other
father be known or referred to here. Strive, my daughters, to
be such that you deserve to find comfort in Him and to throw
yourselves into His arms. You know that, if you are good
children, He will never send you away. And who would not do
anything rather than lose such a Father?

Oh, thank God, what cause for comfort there is here! Rather
than write more about it I will leave it for you to think
about; for, however much your thoughts may wander, between
such a Son and such a Father there must needs be the Holy
Spirit. May He enkindle your will and bind you to Himself with
the most fervent love, since even the great advantage you gain
will not suffice to do so.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 28

Describes the nature of the Prayer of
Recollection and sets down some of the means by which we can
make it a habit.

Consider now what your Master says next: “Who art in the
Heavens.” Do you suppose it matters little what Heaven is and
where you must seek your most holy Father? I assure you that
for minds which wander it is of great importance not only to
have a right belief about this but to try to learn it by
experience, for it is one of the best ways of concentrating
the mind and effecting recollection in the soul.

You know that God is everywhere; and this is a great
truth, for, of course, wherever the king is, or so
they say, the court is too: that is to say, wherever God is,
there is Heaven. No doubt you can believe that, in any place
where His Majesty is, there is fulness of glory. Remember how
Saint Augustine tells us about his seeking God in many places
and eventually finding Him within himself. Do you suppose it
is of little importance that a soul which is often distracted
should come to understand this truth and to find that, in
order to speak to its Eternal Father and to take its delight
in Him, it has no need to go to Heaven or to speak in a loud
voice? However quietly we speak, He is so near that He will
hear us: we need no wings to go in search of Him but have only
to find a place where we can be alone and look upon Him
present within us. Nor need we feel strange in the presence of
so kind a Guest; we must talk to Him very humbly, as we should
to our father, ask Him for things as we should ask a father,
tell Him our troubles, beg Him to put them right, and yet
realize that we are not worthy to be called His children.

Avoid being bashful with God, as some people are, in the
belief that they are being humble. It would not be humility on
your part if the King were to do you a favour and you refused
to accept it; but you would be showing humility by taking it,
and being pleased with it, yet realizing how far you are from
deserving it. A fine humility it would be if I had the Emperor
of Heaven and earth in my house, coming to it to do me
a favour and to delight in my company, and I were so humble
that I would not answer His questions, nor remain with Him,
nor accept what He gave me, but left Him alone. Or if He were
to speak to me and beg me to ask for what I wanted, and I were
so humble that I preferred to remain poor and even let Him go
away, so that He would see I had not sufficient
resolution.

Have nothing to do with that kind of humility, daughters, but
speak with Him as with a Father, a Brother, a Lord and
a Spouse—and, sometimes in one way and sometimes in
another, He will teach you what you must do to please Him. Do
not be foolish; ask Him to let you speak to Him, and, as He is
your Spouse, to treat you as His brides. Remember how
important it is for you to have understood this truth—
that the Lord is within us and that we should be there with
Him.

If one prays in this way, the prayer may be only vocal, but
the mind will be recollected much sooner; and this is a prayer
which brings with it many blessings. It is called recollection
because the soul collects together all the faculties and
enters within itself to be with its God. Its Divine Master
comes more speedily to teach it, and to grant it the Prayer of
Quiet, than in any other way. For, hidden there within itself,
it can think about the Passion, and picture the Son, and offer
Him to the Father, without wearying the mind by going to seek
Him on Mount Calvary, or in the Garden, or at the Column.

Those who are able to shut themselves up in this way within
this little Heaven of the soul, wherein dwells the Maker of
Heaven and earth, and who have formed the habit of looking at
nothing and staying in no place which will distract these
outward senses, may be sure that they are walking on an
excellent road, and will come without fail to drink of the
water of the fountain, for they will journey a long way in
a short time. They are like one who travels in a ship, and, if
he has a little good wind, reaches the end of his voyage in
a few days, while those who go by land take much
longer.

These souls have already, as we may say, put out to sea;
though they have not sailed quite out of sight of land, they
do what they can to get away from it, in the time at their
disposal, by recollecting their senses. If their recollection
is genuine, the fact becomes very evident, for it produces
certain effects which I do not know how to explain but which
anyone will recognize who has experience of them. It is as if
the soul were rising from play, for it sees that worldly
things are nothing but toys; so in due course it rises above
them, like a person entering a strong castle, in order that it
may have nothing more to fear from its enemies. It withdraws
the senses from all outward things and spurns them so
completely that, without its understanding how, its eyes close
and it cannot see them and the soul’s spiritual sight becomes
clear. Those who walk along this path almost invariably close
their eyes when they say their prayers; this, for many
reasons, is an admirable custom, since it means that they are
making an effort not to look at things of the world. The
effort has to be made only at the beginning; later it becomes
unnecessary: eventually, in fact, it would cost a greater
effort to open the eyes during prayer than to close them. The
soul seems to gather up its strength and to master itself at
the expense of the body, which it leaves weakened and alone:
in this way it becomes stronger for the fight against it.

This may not be evident at first, if the recollection is not
very profound—for at this stage it is sometimes more so and
sometimes less. At first it may cause a good deal of trouble,
for the body insists on its rights, not understanding that if
it refuses to admit defeat it is, as it were, cutting off its
own head. But if we cultivate the habit, make the necessary
effort and practise the exercises for several days, the
benefits will reveal themselves, and when we begin to pray we
shall realize that the bees are coming to the hive and
entering it to make the honey, and all without any effort of
ours. For it is the Lord’s will that, in return for the time
which their efforts have cost them, the soul and the will
should be given this power over the senses. They will only
have to make a sign to show that they wish to enter into
recollection and the senses will obey and allow themselves to
be recollected. Later they may come out again, but it is
a great thing that they should ever have surrendered, for if
they come out it is as captives and slaves and they do none of
the harm that they might have done before. When the will calls
them afresh they respond more quickly, until, after they have
entered the soul many times, the Lord is pleased that they
should remain there altogether in perfect contemplation.

What has been said should be noted with great care, for,
though it seems obscure, it will be understood by anyone
desirous of putting it into practice. The sea-voyage, then,
can be made; and, as it is very important that we should not
travel too slowly, let us just consider how we can get
accustomed to these good habits. Souls who do so are more
secure from many occasions of sin, and the fire of Divine love
is the more readily enkindled in them; for they are so near
that fire that, however little the blaze has been fanned with
the understanding, any small spark that flies out at them will
cause them to burst into flame. When no hindrance comes to it
from outside, the soul remains alone with its God and is
thoroughly prepared to become enkindled.

And now let us imagine that we have within us a palace of
priceless worth, built entirely of gold and precious stones—
a palace, in short, fit for so great a Lord. Imagine that it
is partly your doing that this palace should be what it is—
and this is really true, for there is no building so beautiful
as a soul that is pure and full of virtues, and, the greater
these virtues are, the more brilliantly do the stones shine.
Imagine that within the palace dwells this great King, Who has
vouchsafed to become your Father and Who is seated upon
a throne of supreme price—namely, your heart.

At first you will think this irrelevant—I mean the use of
this figure to explain my point—but it may prove very
useful, especially to persons like yourselves. For, as we
women are not learned or fine-witted, we need all
these things to help us realize that we actually have
something within us incomparably more precious than anything
we see outside. Do not let us suppose that the interior of the
soul is empty; God grant that only women may be so thoughtless
as to suppose that. If we took care always to remember what
a Guest we have within us, I think it would be impossible for
us to abandon ourselves to vanities and things of the
world, for we should see how worthless they are by comparison
with those which we have within us. What does an animal do
beyond satisfying his hunger by seizing whatever attracts him
when he sees it? There should surely be a great difference
between the brute beasts and ourselves, as we have such
a Father.

Perhaps you will laugh at me and say that this is obvious
enough; and you will be right, though it was some time before
I came to see it. I knew perfectly well that I had a soul, but
I did not understand what that soul merited, or Who dwelt
within it, until I closed my eyes to the vanities of this
world in order to see it. I think, if I had understood then,
as I do now, how this great King really dwells within
this little palace of my soul, I should not have left Him
alone so often, but should have stayed with Him and never have
allowed His dwelling-place to get so dirty. How wonderful it
is that He Whose greatness could fill a thousand worlds, and
very many more, should confine Himself within so small
a space, just as He was pleased to dwell within the womb
of His most holy Mother! Being the Lord, He has, of
course, perfect freedom, and, as He loves us, He fashions
Himself to our measure.

When a soul sets out upon this path, He does not reveal
Himself to it, lest it should feel dismayed at seeing that its
littleness can contain such greatness; but gradually He
enlarges it to the extent requisite for what He has to set
within it. It is for this reason that I say He has perfect
freedom, since He has power to make the whole of this palace
great. The important point is that we should be absolutely
resolved to give it to Him for His own and should empty it so
that He may take out and put in just what He likes, as He
would with something of His own. His Majesty is right in
demanding this; let us not deny it to Him. And, as He refuses
to force our will, He takes what we give Him but does not give
Himself wholly until He sees that we are giving
ourselves wholly to Him. This is certain, and, as it is of
such importance, I often remind you of it. Nor does He work
within the soul as He does when it is wholly His and keeps
nothing back. I do not see how He can do so, since He likes
everything to be done in order. If we fill the palace with
vulgar people and all kinds of junk, how can the Lord and His
Court occupy it? When such a crowd is there it would be
a great thing if He were to remain for even a short time.

Do you suppose, daughters, that He is alone when He comes to
us? Do you not see that His most holy Son says: “Who
art in the Heavens”? Surely such a King would not be abandoned
by His courtiers. They stay with Him and pray to Him on our
behalf and for our welfare, for they are full of charity. Do
not imagine that Heaven is like this earth, where, if a lord
or prelate shows anyone favours, whether for some particular
reason or simply because he likes him, people at once become
envious, and, though the poor man has done nothing to them, he
is maliciously treated, so that his favours cost him dear.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 29

Continues to describe methods for achieving
this Prayer of Recollection. Says what little account we
should make of being favoured by our superiors.

For the love of God, daughters, avoid making any account of
these favours. You should each do your duty; and, if this is
not appreciated by your superior, you may be sure that it will
be appreciated and rewarded by the Lord. We did not come here
to seek rewards in this life, but only in the life to
come. Let our thoughts always be fixed upon what
endures, and not trouble themselves with earthly things which
do not endure even for a lifetime. For to-day some other
sister will be in your superior’s good books; whereas
to-morrow, if she sees you exhibiting some additional virtue,
it is with you that she will be better pleased—and if she
is not it is of little consequence. Never give way to these
thoughts, which sometimes begin in a small way but may cost
you a great deal of unrest. Check them by remembering that
your kingdom is not of this world, and that everything comes
quickly to an end, and that there is nothing in this life
that goes on unchangingly.

But even that is a poor remedy and anything but a perfect one;
it is best that this state of things should continue, and that
you should be humbled and out of favour, and should wish to be
so for the sake of the Lord Who dwells in you. Turn your eyes
upon yourself and look at yourself inwardly, as I have said.
You will find your Master; He will not fail you: indeed, the
less outward comfort you have, the [much] greater the joy He
will give you. He is full of compassion and never fails those
who are afflicted and out of favour if they trust in Him
alone. Thus David tells us that he never saw the just
forsaken,[97] and again, that the Lord is with the
afflicted.[98] Either you believe this or you do not: if
you do, as you should, why do you wear yourselves to death
with worry?

O my Lord, if we had a real knowledge of Thee, we should make
not the slightest account of anything, since Thou givest so
much to those who will set their whole trust on Thee. Believe
me, friends, it is a great thing to realize the truth of this
so that we may see how deceptive are earthly things
and favours when they deflect the soul in any way from
its course and hinder it from entering within itself. [99]God help me! If
only someone could make you realize this! I myself,
Lord, certainly cannot; I know that [in truth] I owe
Thee more than anyone else but I cannot realize this
myself as well as I should.

Returning to what I was saying, I should like to be able to
explain the nature of this holy companionship with our great
Companion, the Holiest of the holy, in which there is nothing
to hinder the soul and her Spouse from remaining alone
together, when the soul desires to enter within herself, to
shut the door behind her so as to keep out all that is worldly
and to dwell in that Paradise with her God. I say “desires”,
because you must understand that this is not a supernatural
state but depends upon our volition, and that, by God’s
favour, we can enter it of our own accord: this condition
must be understood of everything that we say in this book
can be done, for without it nothing can be
accomplished and we have not the power to think a single good
thought. For this is not a silence of the faculties: it is
a shutting-up of the faculties within itself by the soul.

There are many ways in which we can gradually acquire this
habit, as various books tell us. We must cast aside everything
else, they say, in order to approach God inwardly and we must
retire within ourselves even during our ordinary occupations.
If I can recall the companionship which I have within my soul
for as much as a moment, that is of great utility. But as
I am speaking only about the way to recite vocal prayers
well, there is no need for me to say as much as this. All
I want is that we should know[100]and abide with
the Person with Whom we are speaking, and not turn our
backs upon Him; for that, it seems to me, is what we are
doing when we talk to God and yet think of all kinds of
vanity. The whole mischief comes from our not really
grasping the fact that He is near us, and imagining Him far
away—so far, that we shall have to go to Heaven in order
to find Him. How is it, Lord, that we do not look at Thy
face, when it is so near us? We do not think people are
listening to us when we are speaking to them unless we see
them looking at us. And do we close our eyes so as not to
see that Thou art looking at us? How can we know if Thou
hast heard what we say to Thee?

The great thing I should like to teach you is that, in
order to accustom ourselves gradually to giving our minds
confidence, so that we may readily understand what we are
saying, and with Whom we are speaking, we must recollect
our outward senses, take charge of them ourselves and give
them something which will occupy them. It is in this way
that we have Heaven within ourselves since the Lord of
Heaven is there. If once we accustom ourselves to
being glad [101]that there is no need to raise our voices
in order to speak to Him, since His Majesty will make us
conscious that He is there, we shall be able to say the
Paternoster and whatever other prayers we like with great
peace of mind, and the Lord Himself will help us not to grow
tired. Soon after we have begun to force ourselves to remain
near the Lord, He will give us indications by which we may
understand that, though we have had to say the Paternoster
many times, He heard us the first time. For He loves to save
us worry; and, even though we may take a whole hour over
saying it once, if we can realize that we are with Him, and
what it is we are asking Him, and how willing He is, like
any father, to grant it to us, and how He loves to be
with us, and comfort us, He has no wish for us to
tire our brains by a great deal of talking.

For love of the Lord, then, sisters, accustom yourselves
to saying the Paternoster in this recollected way, and
before long you will see how you gain by doing so. It is
a method of prayer which establishes habits that prevent
the soul from going astray and the faculties from becoming
restless. This you will find out in time: I only beg you to
test it, even at the cost of a little trouble, which always
results when we try to form a new habit. I assure you,
however, that before long you will have the great comfort
of finding it unnecessary to tire yourselves with seeking
this holy Father to Whom you pray, for you will discover
Him within you.

May the Lord teach this to those of you who do not know it:
for my own part I must confess that, until the Lord taught me
this method, I never knew what it was to get satisfaction and
comfort out of prayer, and it is because I have always gained
such great benefits from this custom of interior
recollection[102] that I have written about it at such
length. Perhaps you all know this, but some sister may
come to you who will not know it, so you must not be vexed
at my having spoken about it here.

I conclude by advising anyone who wishes to acquire it (since,
as I say, it is in our power to do so) not to grow weary of
trying to get used to the method which has been described, for
it is equivalent to a gradual gaining of the mastery over
herself and is not vain labour. To conquer oneself for one’s
own good is to make use of the senses in the service of the
interior life. If she is speaking she must try to remember
that there is One within her to Whom she can speak; if she is
listening, let her remember that she can listen to Him Who is
nearer to her than anyone else. Briefly, let her realize that,
if she likes, she need never withdraw from this good
companionship, and let her grieve when she has left her Father
alone for so long though her need of Him is so sore.

If she can, let her practise recollection many times daily; if
not, let her do so occasionally. As she grows accustomed to
it, she will feel its benefits, either sooner or later. Once
the Lord has granted it to her, she would not exchange it for
any treasure.

Nothing, sisters, can be learned without a little trouble, so
do, for the love of God, look upon any care which you take
about this as well spent. I know that, with God’s help, if you
practise it for a year, or perhaps for only six months, you
will be successful in attaining it. Think what a short time
that is for acquiring so great a benefit, for you will be
laying a good foundation, so that, if the Lord desires to
raise you up to achieve great things, He will find you ready,
because you will be close to Himself. May His Majesty never
allow us to withdraw ourselves from His presence. Amen.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 30

Describes the importance of understanding
what we ask for in prayer. Treats of these words in the
“Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come.” Applies them to the Prayer of Quiet, and
begins the explanation of them.

We must now come to consider the next petition in our good
Master’s prayer, in which He begins to entreat His holy Father
on our behalf, and see what it is that He entreats, as it is
well that we should know this.

What person, however careless, who had to address someone of
importance, would not spend time in thinking how to approach
him so as to please him and not be considered tedious? He
would also think what he was going to ask for and what use he
would make of it, especially if his petition were for some
particular thing, as our good Jesus tells us our petitions
must be. This point seems to me very important.
Couldst Thou not, my Lord, have ended this prayer in a single
sentence, by saying: “Give us, Father, whatever is good for
us”? For, in addressing One Who knows everything, there would
seem to be no need to say any more.

This would have sufficed, O Eternal Wisdom, as between Thee
and Thy Father. It was thus that Thou didst address Him in the
Garden, telling Him of Thy will and Thy fear, but leaving
Thyself in His hands. But Thou knowest us, my Lord, and Thou
knowest that we are not as resigned as wert Thou to the will
of Thy Father; we needed, therefore, to be taught to ask for
particular things so that we should stop for a moment
to think if what we ask of Thee is good for us, and if it is
not, should not ask for it. For, being what we are and having
our free will, if we do not receive what we ask for, we shall
not accept what the Lord gives us. The gift might be the best
one possible—but we never think we are rich unless we
actually see money in our hands.

Oh, God help me! What is it that sends our faith to sleep, so
that we cannot realize how certain we are, on the one hand, to
be punished, and, on the other, to be rewarded? It is for this
reason, daughters, that it is good for you to know what you
are asking for in the Paternoster, so that, if the Eternal
Father gives it you, you shall not cast it back in His face.
You must think carefully if what you are about to ask for will
be good for you; if it will not, do not ask for it, but ask
His Majesty to give you light. For we are blind and often we
have such a loathing for life-giving food that we cannot eat
it but prefer what will cause us death—and what a death: so
terrible and eternal!

Now the good Jesus bids us say these words, in which we pray
that this Kingdom may come in us: “Hallowed be Thy Name, Thy
Kingdom come in us.” Consider now, daughters, how great is our
Master’s wisdom. I am thinking here of what we are asking in
praying for this kingdom, and it is well that we should
realize this. His Majesty, knowing of how little we are
capable, saw that, unless He provided for us by giving us His
Kingdom here on earth, we could neither hallow nor praise nor
magnify nor glorify nor exalt this holy name of the
Eternal Father in a way befitting it. The good Jesus,
therefore, places these two petitions next to each other. Let
us understand this thing that we are asking for, daughters,
and how important it is that we should pray for it without
ceasing and do all we can to please Him Who will give it us:
it is for that reason that I want to tell you what I know
about the matter now. If you do not like the subject, think
out some other meditations for yourselves, for our Master will
allow us to do this, provided we submit in all things to the
teaching of the [Holy Roman] Church, as I do here. In any
case I shall not give you this book to read until persons
who understand these matters have seen it: so, if there is
anything wrong with it, the reason will be, not wickedness,
but my imperfect knowledge.

To me, then, it seems that, of the many joys to be found in
the kingdom of Heaven, the chief is that we shall have no more
to do with the things of earth; for in Heaven we shall have an
intrinsic tranquillity and glory, a joy in the rejoicings of
all, a perpetual peace, and a great interior satisfaction
which will come to us when we see that all are hallowing and
praising the Lord, and are blessing His name, and that none is
offending Him. For all love Him there and the soul’s one
concern is loving Him, nor can it cease from loving Him
because it knows Him. And this is how we should love Him on
earth, though we cannot do so with the same perfection nor yet
all the time; still, if we knew Him, we should love Him very
differently from the way we do now.

It looks as though I were going to say that we must be angels
to make this petition and to say our vocal prayers well. This
would indeed be our Divine Master’s wish, since He bids us
make so sublime a petition. You may be quite sure that He
never tells us to ask for impossibilities, so it must be
possible, with God’s help, for a soul living in that state of
exile to reach such a point, though not as perfectly as those
who have been freed from this prison, for we are making
a sea-voyage and are still on the journey. But there are times
when we are wearied with travelling and the Lord grants our
faculties tranquillity and our soul quiet, and while they are
in that state He gives us a clear understanding of the nature
of the gifts He bestows upon those whom He brings to His
Kingdom. Those to whom, while they are still on earth, He
grants what we are asking Him for receive pledges which will
give them a great hope of eventually attaining to a perpetual
enjoyment of what on earth He only allows them to taste.

If it were not that you would tell me I am treating of
contemplation, it would be appropriate, in writing of this
petition, to say a little about the beginning of pure
contemplation, which those who experience it call the Prayer
of Quiet; but, as I have said, I am discussing vocal prayer
here, and anyone ignorant of the subject might think that the
two had nothing to do with one another, though I know this is
certainly not true. Forgive my wanting to speak of it, for
I know there are many people who practise vocal prayer in the
manner already described and are raised by God to the higher
kind of contemplation without having had any hand in this
themselves or even knowing how it has happened.
For this reason, daughters, I attach great importance to
your saying your vocal prayers well. I know a nun who
could never practise anything but vocal prayer but who kept to
this and found she had everything else; yet if she omitted
saying her prayers her mind wandered so much that she could
not endure it. May we all practise such mental prayer as that.
She would say a number of Paternosters, corresponding to the
number of times Our Lord shed His blood, and on nothing more
than these and a few other prayers she would spend two or
three hours. She came to me once in great distress, saying
that she did not know how to practise mental prayer, and that
she could not contemplate but could only say vocal prayers.
She was quite an old woman and had lived an extremely good
and religious life. I asked her what prayers she said,
and from her reply I saw that, though keeping to the
Paternoster, she was experiencing pure contemplation, and the
Lord was raising her to be with Him in union. She spent her
life so well, too, that her actions made it clear she was
receiving great favours. So I praised the Lord and envied her
her vocal prayer. If this story is true—and it is—none
of you who have had a bad opinion of contemplatives can
suppose that you will be free from the risk of becoming like
them if you say your vocal prayers as they should be said and
keep a pure conscience. I shall have to say still more
about this. Anyone not wishing to hear it may pass it
over.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 31

Continues the same subject. Explains what is
meant by the Prayer of Quiet. Gives several counsels to those
who experience it. This chapter is very noteworthy.

Now, daughters, I still want to describe this Prayer of Quiet
to you, in the way I have heard it talked about, and as the
Lord has been pleased to teach it to me, perhaps in order that
I might describe it to you. It is in this kind of prayer, as
I have said, that the Lord seems to me to begin to show us
that He is hearing our petition: He begins to give us His
Kingdom on earth so that we may truly praise Him and hallow
His name and strive to make others do so likewise.

This is a supernatural state, and, however hard we try, we
cannot reach it for ourselves; for it is a state in which the
soul enters into peace, or rather in which the Lord gives it
peace through His presence, as He did to that just man
Simeon.[103] In this state
all the faculties are stilled. The soul, in a way which has
nothing to do with the outward senses, realizes that it is now
very close to its God, and that, if it were but a little
closer, it would become one with Him through union. This is
not because it sees Him either with its bodily or with its
spiritual eyes. The just man Simeon saw no more than the
glorious Infant—a poor little Child, Who, to judge from the
swaddling-clothes in which He was wrapped and from the small
number of the people whom He had as a retinue to take
Him up to the Temple, might well have been the son of these
poor people rather than the Son of his Heavenly Father. But
the Child Himself revealed to him Who He was. Just so, though
less clearly, does the soul know Who He is. It cannot
understand how it knows Him, yet it sees that it is in the
Kingdom (or at least is near to the King Who will give it the
Kingdom), and it feels such reverence that it dares to ask
nothing. It is, as it were, in a swoon, both inwardly and
outwardly, so that the outward man (let me call it the “body”,
and then you will understand me better) does not wish to move,
but rests, like one who has almost reached the end of his
journey, so that it may the better start again upon its way,
with redoubled strength for its task.

The body experiences the greatest delight and the soul is
conscious of a deep satisfaction. So glad is it merely to find
itself near the fountain that, even before it has begun to
drink, it has had its fill. There seems nothing left for it to
desire. The faculties are stilled and have no wish to move,
for any movement they may make appears to hinder the soul from
loving God. They are not completely lost, however, since, two
of them being free, they can realize in Whose Presence they
are. It is the will that is in captivity now; and, if while in
this state it is capable of experiencing any pain, the pain
comes when it realizes that it will have to resume its
liberty. The mind tries to occupy itself with only one thing,
and the memory has no desire to busy itself with more: they
both see that this is the one thing needful and that anything
else will unsettle them. Persons in this state prefer the body
to remain motionless, for otherwise their peace would be
destroyed: for this reason they dare not stir. Speaking is
a distress to them: they will spend a whole hour on a single
repetition of the Paternoster. They are so close to God that
they know they can make themselves understood by signs. They
are in the palace, near to their King, and they see that He is
already beginning to give them His Kingdom on earth.
Sometimes tears come to their eyes, but they weep very
gently and quite without distress: their whole desire is
the hallowing of this name. They seem not to be in
the world, and have no wish to see or hear anything but their
God; nothing distresses them, nor does it seem that anything
can possibly do so. In short, for as long as this state lasts,
they are so overwhelmed and absorbed by the joy and delight
which they experience that they can think of nothing else to
wish for, and will gladly say with Saint Peter: “Lord, let us
make here three mansions.”[104]

Occasionally, during this Prayer of Quiet, God grants the soul
another favour which is hard to understand if one has not had
long experience of it. But any of you who have had this will
at once recognize it and it will give you great comfort to
know what it is. I believe God often grants this favour
together with the other. When this quiet is felt in a high
degree and lasts for a long time, I do not think that, if the
will were not made fast to something, the peace could be of
such long duration. Sometimes it goes on for a day, or for two
days, and we find ourselves—I mean those who experience
this state—full of this joy without understanding the
reason. They see clearly that their whole self is not in what
they are doing, but that the most important faculty is absent
—namely, the will, which I think is united with its God—
and that the other faculties are left free to busy themselves
with His service. For this they have much more capacity at
such a time, though when attending to worldly affairs they are
dull and sometimes stupid.

It is a great favour which the Lord grants to these souls, for
it unites the active life with the contemplative. At such
times they serve the Lord in both these ways at once; the
will, while in contemplation, is working without knowing how
it does so; the other two faculties are serving Him as Martha
did. Thus Martha and Mary work together. I know someone to
whom the Lord often granted this favour; she could not
understand it and asked a great contemplative [105]about it, he told her that what she
described was quite possible and had happened to himself.
I think, therefore, that as the soul experiences such
satisfaction in this Prayer of Quiet the will must be almost
continuously united with Him Who alone can give it
happiness.

I think it will be well, sisters, if I give some advice here
to any of you whom the Lord, out of His goodness alone, has
brought to this state, as I know that this has happened to
some of you. First of all, when such persons experience this
joy, without knowing whence it has come to them, but knowing
at least that they could not have achieved it of themselves,
they are tempted to imagine that they can prolong it and they
may even try not to breathe. This is ridiculous: we can no
more control this prayer than we can make the day break, or
stop night from falling; it is supernatural and something we
cannot acquire. The most we can do to prolong this favour is
to realize that we can neither diminish nor add to it, but,
being most unworthy and undeserving of it, can only receive it
with thanksgiving. And we can best give thanks, not with many
words, but by lifting up our eyes, like the publican.[106]

It is well to seek greater solitude so as to make room for the
Lord and allow His Majesty to do His own work in us. The most
we should do is occasionally, and quite gently, to utter
a single word, like a person giving a little puff to a candle,
when he sees it has almost gone out, so as to make it burn
again; though, if it were fully alight, I suppose the only
result of blowing it would be to put it out. I think the puff
should be a gentle one because, if we begin to tax our brains
by making up long speeches, the will may become active
again.

Note carefully, friends, this piece of advice which I want to
give you now. You will often find that these other two
faculties are of no help to you. It may come about that the
soul is enjoying the highest degree of quiet, and that the
understanding has soared so far aloft that what is happening
to it seems not to be going on in its own house at all; it
really seems to be a guest in somebody else’s house,
looking for other lodgings, since its own lodging no longer
satisfies it and it cannot remain there for long together.
Perhaps this is only my own experience and other people do not
find it so. But, speaking for myself, I sometimes long to die
because I cannot cure this wandering of the mind. At other
times the mind seems to be settled in its own abode and to be
remaining there with the will as its companion. When all three
faculties work together it is wonderful. The harmony is like
that between husband and wife: if they are happy and love each
other, both desire the same thing; but if the husband is
unhappy in his marriage he soon begins to make the wife
restless. Just so, when the will finds itself in this state of
quiet, it must take no more notice of the understanding than
it would of a madman, for, if it tries to draw the
understanding along with it, it is bound to grow preoccupied
and restless, with the result that this state of prayer will
be all effort and no gain and the soul will lose what God has
been giving it without any effort of its own.

Pay great attention to the following comparison, which the
Lord suggested to me when I was in this state of prayer,
and which seems to me very appropriate. The soul is
like an infant still at its mother’s breast: such is the
mother’s care for it that she gives it its milk without its
having to ask for it so much as by moving its lips. That is
what happens here. The will simply loves, and no effort needs
to be made by the understanding, for it is the Lord’s pleasure
that, without exercising its thought, the soul should realize
that it is in His company, and should merely drink the milk
which His Majesty puts into its mouth and enjoy its sweetness.
The Lord desires it to know that it is He Who is granting it
that favour and that in its enjoyment of it He too rejoices.
But it is not His will that the soul should try to understand
how it is enjoying it, or what it is enjoying; it should lose
all thought of itself, and He Who is at its side will not fail
to see what is best for it. If it begins to strive with its
mind so that the mind may be apprised of what is happening and
thus induced to share in it, [107]it will be quite
unable to do so, and the soul will perforce lose the milk
[108]and forgo that Divine sustenance.

This state of prayer is different from that in which the soul
is wholly united with God, for in the latter state it does not
even swallow its nourishment: the Lord places this within it,
and it has no idea how. But in this state it even seems to be
His will that the soul should work a little, though so quietly
that it is hardly conscious of doing so. What disturbs it is
the understanding and this is not the case when there is union
of all the three faculties, since He Who created them suspends
them: He keeps them occupied with the enjoyment that He has
given them, without their knowing, or being able to
understand, the reason. Anyone who has had experience of
this kind of prayer will understand quite well what I am
saying if, after reading this, she considers it carefully,
and thinks out its meaning: otherwise it will be Greek[109]to her.

Well, as I say, the soul is conscious of having reached this
state of prayer, which is a quiet, deep and Peaceful happiness
of the will, without being able to decide precisely what it
is, although it can clearly see how it differs from the
happiness of the world. To have dominion over the whole world,
with all its happiness, would not suffice to bring the soul
such inward satisfaction as it enjoys now in the depths of its
will. For other kinds of happiness in life, it seems to me,
touch only the outward part of the will, which we might
describe as its rind.

When one of you finds herself in this sublime state of prayer,
which, as I have already said, is most markedly supernatural,
and the understanding (or, to put it more clearly, the
thought) wanders off after the most ridiculous things in the
world, she should laugh at it and treat it as the silly thing
it is, and remain in her state of quiet. For thoughts will
come and go, but the will is mistress and all-powerful, and
will recall them without your having to trouble about it. But
if you try to drag the understanding back by force, you lose
your power over it, which comes from your taking and receiving
that Divine sustenance, and neither will nor understanding
will gain,[110] but both will be losers.
There is a saying that, if we try very hard to grasp all, we
lose all; and so I think it is here. Experience will show you
the truth of this; and I shall not be surprised if those of
you who have none think this very obscure and unnecessary.
But, as I have said, if you have only a little experience of
it you will understand it and be able to profit by it, and you
will praise the Lord for being pleased to enable me to explain
it.

Let us now conclude by saying that, when the soul is brought
to this state of prayer, it would seem that the Eternal Father
has already granted its petition that He will give it His
Kingdom on earth. O blessed request, in which we ask for so
great a good without knowing what we do! Blessed manner of
asking! It is for this reason, sisters, that I want us to be
careful how we say this prayer, the Paternoster, and all other
vocal prayers, and what we ask for in them. For
clearly, when God has shown us this favour, we shall
have to forget worldly things, all of which the Lord of the
world has come and cast out. I do not mean that everyone who
experiences the Prayer of Quiet must perforce be detached from
everything in the world; but at least I should like all such
persons to know what they lack and to humble themselves
and not to make so great a petition as though they were
asking for nothing, and, if the Lord gives them what they
ask for, to throw it back in His face. They must try
to become more and more detached from everything, for
otherwise they will only remain where they are. If God gives
a soul such pledges, it is a sign that He has great things in
store for it. It will be its own fault if it does not make
great progress. But if He sees that, after He has brought the
Kingdom of Heaven into its abode, it returns to earth, not
only will He refrain from showing it the secrets of His
Kingdom but He will grant it this other favour only for short
periods and rarely.

I may be mistaken about this, but I have seen it and know that
it happens, and, for my own part, I believe this is why
spiritual people are not much more numerous. They do not
respond to so great a favour in a practical way: instead of
preparing themselves to receive this favour again, they take
back from the Lord’s hands the will which He considered His
own and centre it upon base things. So He seeks out others who
love Him in order to grant them His greater gifts, although He
will not take away all that He has given from those who live
in purity of conscience. But there are persons—and I have
been one of them—to whom the Lord gives tenderness of
devotion and holy inspirations and light on everything. He
bestows this Kingdom on them and brings them to this Prayer of
Quiet, and yet they deafen their ears to His voice. For they
are so fond of talking and of repeating a large number of
vocal prayers in a great hurry, as though they were anxious to
finish their task of repeating them daily, that when the Lord,
as I say, puts His Kingdom into their very hands, by
giving them this Prayer of Quiet and this inward
peace, they do not accept it, but think that they will
do better to go on reciting their prayers, which only distract
them from their purpose.

Do not be like that, sisters, but be watchful when the Lord
grants you this favour. Think what a great treasure you may be
losing and realize that you are doing much more by
occasionally repeating a single petition of the Paternoster
than by repeating the whole of it many times in a hurry
and not thinking what you are saying. He to Whom you
are praying is very near to you and will not fail to hear you;
and you may be sure that you are truly praising Him and
hallowing His name, since you are glorifying the Lord as
a member of His household and praising Him with increasing
affection and desire so that it seems you can never forsake
His service. So I advise you to be very cautious about
this, for it is of the greatest importance.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 32

Expounds these words of the Paternoster:
“Thy will be done: as in Heaven, so on
earth.” Describes how much is accomplished by those
who repeat these words with full resolution and how well the
Lord rewards them for it.

Now that our good Master has asked on our behalf, and has
taught us ourselves to ask, for a thing so precious that it
includes all we can desire on earth, and has granted us the
great favour of making us His brethren, let us see what He
desires us to give to His Father, and what He offers Him on
our behalf, and what He asks of us, for it is right that we
should render Him some service in return for such great
favours. O good Jesus! Since Thou givest so little (little,
that is to say, on our behalf) how canst Thou ask [so much]
for us? What we give is in itself nothing at all by comparison
with all that has been given us and with the greatness of Our
Lord. But in truth, my Lord, Thou dost not leave us with
nothing to give and we give all that we can—I mean if we
give in the spirit of these words: “Thy will be done; as in
Heaven, so on earth.”

Thou didst well, O our good Master, to make this last
petition, so that we may be able to accomplish what Thou dost
promise in our name. For truly, Lord, hadst Thou not done
this, I do not think it would have been possible for us to
accomplish it. But, since Thy Father does what Thou
askest Him in granting us His Kingdom on earth, I know that we
can truly fulfil Thy word by giving what Thou dost promise in
our name. For since my earth has now become Heaven, it will be
possible for Thy will to be done in me. Otherwise, on an earth
so wretched as mine, and so barren of fruit, I know not, Lord,
how it could be possible. It is a great thing that Thou dost
offer.

When I think of this, it amuses me that there should be people
who dare not ask the Lord for trials, thinking that His
sending them to them depends upon their asking for them! I am
not referring to those who omit to ask for them out of
humility because they think themselves to be incapable of
bearing them, though for my own part I believe that He who
gives them love enough to ask for such a stern method of
proving it will give them love enough to endure it. I should
like to ask those who are afraid to pray for trials lest they
should at once be given them what they mean when they beg the
Lord to fulfil His will in them. Do they say this because
everyone else says it and not because they want it to be done?
That would not be right, sisters. Remember that the good Jesus
is our Ambassador here, and that His desire has been to
mediate between us and His Father at no small cost to Himself:
it would not be right for us to refuse to give what He
promises and offers on our behalf or to say nothing
about it. Let me put it in another way. Consider, daughters,
that, whether we wish it or no, God’s will must be done, and
must be done both in Heaven and on earth. Believe me, then,
do as I suggest and make a virtue of necessity.

O my Lord, what a great comfort it is to me that Thou didst
not entrust the fulfilment of Thy will to one so wretched as
I! Blessed be Thou for ever and let all things praise Thee.
May Thy name be for ever glorified. I should indeed have had
to be good, Lord, if the fulfilment or non-fulfilment of Thy
will [in Heaven and on earth] were in my hands. But as it is,
though my will is not yet free from self-interest, I give it
to Thee freely. For I have proved, by long experience, how
much I gain by leaving it freely in Thy hands. O friends, what
a great gain is this—and how much we lose through not
fulfilling our promises to the Lord in the Paternoster, and
giving Him what we offer Him!

Before I tell you in what this gain consists, I will explain
to you how much you are offering, lest later you should
exclaim that you had been deceived and had not understood what
you were saying. Do not behave like some religious among us,
who do nothing but promise, and then excuse ourselves for not
fulfilling our promises by saying that we had not understood
what we were promising. That may well be true, for it is
easy to say things and hard to put them into practice, and
anyone who thought that there was no more in the one than
in the other certainly did not understand. It seems
very easy to say that we will surrender our will to someone,
until we try it and realize that it is the hardest thing we
can do if we carry it out as we should. Our superiors do not
always treat us strictly when they see we are weak; and
sometimes they treat both weak and strong in the same way.
That is not so with the Lord; He knows what each of us can
bear, and, when He sees that one of us is strong, He does not
hesitate to fulfil His will in him.

So I want you to realize with Whom (as they say) you are
dealing and what the good Jesus offers on your behalf to
the Father, and what you are giving Him when you pray that
His will may be done in you: it is nothing else than this
that you are praying for. Do not fear that He will
give you riches or pleasures or great honours or any
such earthly things; His love for you is not so poor as that.
And He sets a very high value on what you give Him and desires
to recompense you for it since He gives you His Kingdom while
you are still alive. Would you like to see how He treats those
who make this prayer from their hearts? Ask His glorious Son,
Who made it thus in the Garden. Think with what resolution and
fullness of desire He prayed; and consider if the will of God
was not perfectly fulfilled in Him through the trials,
sufferings, insults and persecutions which He gave Him, until
at last His life ended with death on a Cross.

So you see, daughters, what God gave to His best Beloved, and
from that you can understand what His will is. These, then,
are His gifts in this world. He gives them in proportion to
the love which He bears us. He gives more to those whom He
loves most, and less to those He loves least; and He gives in
accordance with the courage which He sees that each of us has
and the love we bear to His Majesty. When He sees a soul who
loves Him greatly, He knows that soul can suffer much for Him,
whereas one who loves Him little will suffer little. For my
own part, I believe that love is the measure of our ability to
bear crosses, whether great or small. So if you have this
love, sisters, try not to let the prayers you make to so great
a Lord be words of mere politeness but brace yourselves to
suffer what His Majesty desires. For if you give Him your will
in any other way, you are just showing Him a jewel, making as
if to give it to Him and begging Him to take it, and then,
when He puts out His hand to do so, taking it back and holding
on to it tightly.

Such mockery is no fit treatment for One who endured so much
for us. If for no other reason than this, it would not be
right to mock Him so often—and it is by no means seldom
that we say these words to Him in the Paternoster. Let us give
Him once and for all the jewel which we have so often
undertaken to give Him. For the truth is that He gives it to
us first so that we may give it back to Him. Ah, my God!
How well Jesus knows us and how much He thinks of our good!
He did not say we must surrender our wills to the Lord
until we had been well paid for this small service. It will
be realized from this how much the Lord intends us to gain
by rendering it to Him: even in this life He begins to
reward us for this, as I shall presently explain.
Worldly people will do a great deal if they sincerely resolve
to fulfil the will of God. But you, daughters, must both say
and act, and give Him both words and deeds, as I really think
we religious do. Yet sometimes not only do we undertake to
give God the jewel but we even put it into His hand and then
take it back again. We are so generous all of a sudden, and
then we become so mean, that it would have been better if we
had stopped to think before giving.

The aim of all my advice to you in this book is that we should
surrender ourselves wholly to the Creator, place our will in
His hands and detach ourselves from the creatures. As you will
already have understood how important this is, I will say no
more about it, but I will tell you why our good Master puts
these words here. He knows how much we shall gain by rendering
this service to His Eternal Father. We are preparing ourselves
for the time, which will come very soon, when we shall find
ourselves at the end of our journey and shall be drinking of
living water from the fountain I have described. Unless we
make a total surrender of our will to the Lord, and put
ourselves in His hands so that He may do in all things
what is best for us in accordance with His will, He will never
allow us to drink of it. This is the perfect contemplation of
which you asked me to write to you.

In this matter, as I have already said, we can do nothing of
ourselves, either by working hard or by making plans, nor is
it needful that we should. For everything else hinders and
prevents us from saying [with real resolution], “Fiat voluntas
tua”: that is, may the Lord fulfil His will in me, in every
way and manner which Thou, my Lord, desirest. If Thou wilt do
this by means of trials, give me strength and let them come.
If by means of persecutions and sickness and dishonour and
need, here I am, my Father, I will not turn my face away from
Thee nor have I the right to turn my back upon them. For Thy
Son gave Thee this will of mine in the name of us all and it
is not right that I for my part should fail. Do Thou grant me
the grace of bestowing on me Thy Kingdom so that I may do Thy
will, since He has asked this of me. Dispose of me as of that
which is Thine own, in accordance with Thy will.

Oh, my sisters, what power this gift has! If it be made with
due resolution, it cannot fail to draw the Almighty to become
one with our lowliness and to transform us into Himself and to
effect a union between the Creator and the creature. Ask
yourselves if that will not be a rich reward for you, and if
you have not a good Master. For, knowing how the good will of
His Father is to be gained, He teaches us how and by what
means we must serve Him.

The more resolute we are in soul and the more we show
Him by our actions that the words we use to Him are not words
of mere politeness, the more and more does Our Lord draw us to
Himself and raise us above all petty earthly things,
and above ourselves, in order to prepare us to receive great
favours from Him, for His rewards for our service
will not end with this life. So much does He value this
service of ours that we do not know for what more we can ask,
while His Majesty never wearies of giving. Not content with
having made this soul one with Himself, through uniting it to
Himself, He begins to cherish it, to reveal secrets to it, to
rejoice in its understanding of what it has gained and in the
knowledge which it has of all He has yet to give it. He causes
it gradually to lose its exterior senses so that nothing may
occupy it. This we call rapture. He begins to make such
a friend of the soul that not only does He restore its will to
it but He gives it His own also. For, now that He is making
a friend of it, He is glad to allow it to rule with Him, as we
say, turn and turn about. So He does what the soul asks of
Him, just as the soul does what He commands, only in a much
better way, since He is all-powerful and can do whatever He
desires, and His desire never comes to an end.

But the poor soul, despite its desires, is often
unable to do all it would like, nor can it do anything at all
unless it is given the power. [111]And so it grows richer and richer; and
the more it serves, the greater becomes its debt; and often,
growing weary of finding itself subjected to all the
inconveniences and impediments and bonds which it has to
endure while it is in the prison of this body, it would gladly
pay something of what it owes, for it is quite worn out. But
even if we do all that is in us, how can we repay God, since,
as I say, we have nothing to give save what we have first
received? We can only learn to know ourselves and do what we
can—namely, surrender our will and fulfil God’s will in us.
Anything else must be a hindrance to the soul which the Lord
has brought to this state. It causes it, not profit, but harm,
for nothing but humility is of any use here, and this is not
acquired by the understanding but by a clear perception of the
truth, which comprehends in one moment what could not be
attained over a long period by the labour of the imagination
—namely, that we are nothing and that God is infinitely
great.

I will give you one piece of advice: do not suppose that you
can reach this state by your own effort or diligence; that
would be too much to expect. On the contrary, you would turn
what devotion you had quite cold. You must practise simplicity
and humility, for those are the virtues which achieve
everything. You must say: “Fiat voluntas tua.”

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 33

Treats of our great need that the Lord should
give us what we ask in these words of the Paternoster: “Give us this day our daily bread.”

The good Jesus understands, as I have said, how difficult
a thing He is offering on our behalf, for He knows our
weakness, and how often we show that we do not understand what
the will of the Lord is, since we are weak while He is so
merciful. He knows that some means must be found by which we
shall not omit to give what He has given on our behalf, for if
we did that it would be anything but good for us, since
everything we gain comes from what we give. Yet He knows that
it will be difficult for us to carry this out; for if anyone
were to tell some wealthy, pampered person that it is God’s
will for him to moderate his eating so that others, who are
dying of hunger, shall have at least bread to eat, he will
discover a thousand reasons for not understanding this but
interpreting it in his own way. If one tells a person who
speaks ill of others that it is God’s will that he should love
his neighbour as himself, [112]he will lose
patience and no amount of reasoning will convince him. If one
tells a religious who is accustomed to liberty and indulgence
that he must be careful to set a good example and to remember
that when he makes this petition it is his duty to keep what
he has sworn and promised, and that not in word alone; that it
is the will of God that he should fulfil his vows and see that
he gives no occasion for scandal by acting contrarily to them,
even though he may not actually break them; that he has taken
the vow of poverty and must keep it without evasions, because
that is the Lord’s will—it would be impossible, in spite of
all this, that some religious should not still want their own
way. What would be the case, then, if the Lord had not done
most of what was necessary by means of the remedy He has given
us? There would have been very few who could have fulfilled
this petition, which the Lord made to the Father on our
behalf: “Fiat voluntas tua.” Seeing our need, therefore, the
good Jesus has sought the admirable means whereby He has shown
us the extreme love which He has for us, and in His own name
and in that of His brethren He has made this petition: “Give
us, Lord, this day our daily bread.”

For the love of God, sisters, let us realize the meaning of
our good Master’s petition, for our very life depends on our
not disregarding it. Set very little store by what you have
given, since there is so much that you will receive. It seems
to me, in the absence of a better opinion, that the good Jesus
knew what He had given for us and how important it was for us
to give this to God, and yet how difficult it would be for us
to do so, as has been said, because of our natural inclination
to base things and our want of love and courage. He saw that,
before we could be aroused, we needed His aid, not once but
every day, and it must have been for this reason that He
resolved to remain with us. As this was so weighty and
important a matter, He wished it to come from the hand of the
Eternal Father. Though both Father and Son are one and the
same, and He knew that whatever He did on earth God would do
in Heaven, and would consider it good, since His will and the
Father’s will were one, yet the humility of the good Jesus was
such that He wanted, as it were, to ask leave of His Father,
for He knew that He was His beloved Son and that He was well
pleased with Him. He knew quite well that in this petition He
was asking for more than He had asked for in the others, but
He already knew what death He was to suffer and what
dishonours and affronts He would have to bear.

What father could there be, Lord, who, after giving us his
son, and such a Son, would allow Him to remain among us day by
day to suffer as He had done already? None, Lord, in truth,
but Thine: well dost Thou know of Whom Thou art asking this.
God help me! What a great love is that of the Son and what
a great love is that of the Father! I am not so much amazed at
the good Jesus, because, as He had already said “Fiat voluntas
tua”, He was bound, being Who He is, to put what He had said
into practice. Yes, for He is not like us; knowing that He was
carrying out His words by loving us as He loves Himself, He
went about seeking how He could carry out this commandment
more perfectly, even at His own cost. But how, Eternal Father,
couldst Thou consent to this? How canst Thou see Thy Son every
day in such wicked hands? Since first Thou didst permit it and
consent to it, Thou seest how He has been treated. How can Thy
Mercy, day by day and every day, [113]see
Him affronted? And how many affronts are being offered to-day
to this Most Holy Sacrament? How often must the Father see Him
in the hands of His enemies? What desecrations these heretics
commit!

O Eternal Lord! How canst Thou grant such a petition? How
canst Thou consent to it? Consider not His love, which, for
the sake of fulfilling Thy will and of helping us, would allow
Him to submit day by day to being cut to pieces. It is for
Thee to see to this, my Lord, since Thy Son allows no obstacle
to stand in His way. Why must all the blessings that we
receive be at His cost? How is it that He is silent in face of
all, and cannot speak for Himself, but only for us? Is there
none who will speak for this most loving Lamb? Give me
permission to speak for Him, Lord, since Thou hast been
pleased to leave Him in our power, and let me beseech Thee
on His behalf, since He gave Thee such full obedience and
surrendered Himself to us with such great love.

I have been reflecting how in this petition alone the same
words are repeated: first of all the Lord speaks of “our daily
bread” and asks Thee to give it, and then He says: “Give it us
to-day, Lord.” [114]He lays the matter before His Father in
this way: the Father gave us His Son once and for all to die
for us, and thus He is our own; yet He does not want the gift
to be taken from us until the end of the world but would have
it left to be a help to us every day. Let this melt your
hearts, my daughters, and make you love your Spouse, for there
is no slave who would willingly call himself by that name, yet
the good Jesus seems to think it an honour.

O Eternal Father, how great is the merit of this humility!
With what a treasure are we purchasing Thy Son! How to sell
Him we already know, for He was sold for thirty pieces of
silver; but, if we would purchase Him, no price is sufficient.
Being made one with us through the portion of our nature which
is His, and being Lord of His own will, He reminds His Father
that, as our nature is His, He is able to give it to us, and
thus He says “our bread”. He makes no difference between
Himself and us, though we make one between ourselves and Him
through not giving ourselves daily for His Majesty’s sake.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 34

Continues the same subject. This is very
suitable for reading after the reception of the Most Holy
Sacrament.

We have now reached the conclusion that the good Jesus, being
ours, asks His Father to let us have Him daily—which
appears to mean “for ever”. While writing this I have
been wondering why, after saying “our ‘daily’ bread”, the Lord
repeated the idea in the words “Give us this day, Lord.” I
will tell you my own foolish idea: if it really is foolish,
well and good—in any case, it is quite bad enough that
I should interfere in such a matter at all. Still, as we
are trying to understand what we are praying for, let us
think carefully what this means, so that we may pray
rightly, and thank Him Who is taking such care about
teaching us. This bread, then, is ours daily, it seems
to me, because we have Him here on earth, since He has
remained with us here and we receive Him; and, if we
profit by His company, we shall also have Him in Heaven, for
the only reason He remains with us is to help and encourage
and sustain us so that we shall do that will, which, as we
have said, is to be fulfilled in us.

In using the words “this day” He seems to me to be
thinking of a day of the length of this life. And
a day indeed it is! As for the unfortunate souls who
will bring damnation upon themselves and will not
have fruition of Him in the world to come, they are His
own creatures, and He did everything to help them on, and
was with them, to strengthen them, throughout the “to-day”
of this life, so it is not His fault if they are
vanquished. They will have no excuse to make nor will they be
able to complain of the Father for taking this bread from them
at the time when they most needed it. Therefore the Son prays
the Father that, since this life lasts no more than a day, He
will allow Him to spend it in our service. [115]As His Majesty has already given His Son
to us, by sending Him, of His will alone, into the world, so
now, of that same will, He is pleased not to abandon us, but
to remain here with us for the greater glory of His friends
and the discomfiture of His enemies. He prays for nothing more
than this “to-day” since He has given us this most holy Bread.
He has given it to us for ever, as I have said, as the
sustenance and manna of humanity. We can have it whenever we
please and we shall not die of hunger save through our own
fault, for, in whatever way the soul desires to partake of
food, it will find joy and comfort in the Most Holy Sacrament.
There is no need or trial or persecution that cannot be easily
borne if we begin to partake and taste of those which
He Himself bore, and to make them the subject of our
meditations.

With regard to other bread[116]—the bread of bodily necessaries and
sustenance—I neither like to think that the Lord is
always being reminded of it nor would I have you remember
it yourselves. Keep on the level of the highest
contemplation, for anyone who dwells there no more
remembers that he is in the world than if he had already
left it—still less does he think about food. Would the
Lord ever have insisted upon our asking for food, or taught
us to do so by His own example? Not in my opinion. He
teaches us to fix our desires upon heavenly things and to
pray that we may begin to enjoy these things while here on
earth: would He, then, have us trouble about so petty
a matter as praying for food? As if He did not know that,
once we begin to worry about the needs of the body, we
shall forget the needs of the soul! Besides, are we such
moderately minded people that we shall be satisfied with
just a little and pray only for a little? No: the more food
we are given, the less we shall get of the water from
Heaven. Let those of you, daughters, who want more of the
necessaries of life pray for this.

Join with the Lord, then, daughters, in begging the Father to
let you have your Spouse to-day, so that, as long as you
live, you may never find yourself in this world
without Him. Let it suffice to temper your great joy that He
should remain disguised beneath these accidents of bread and
wine, which is a real torture to those who have nothing else
to love and no other consolation. Entreat Him not to fail you
but to prepare you to receive Him worthily.

As for that other bread, have no anxiety about it if you have
truly resigned yourselves to God’s will. I mean that at these
hours of prayer you are dealing with more important matters
and there is time enough for you to labour and earn your daily
bread. Try never at any time to let your thoughts dwell on
this; work with your body, for it is good for you to try to
support yourselves, but let your soul be at rest. Leave
anxiety about this to your Spouse, as has been said at length
already, and He will always bear it for you. Do not fear
that He will fail you if you do not fail to do what you
have promised and to resign yourselves to God’s will.
I assure you, daughters, that, if I myself were to fail in
this, because of my wickedness, as I have often done in the
past, I would not beg Him to give me that bread, or
anything else to eat. Let Him leave me to die of hunger. Of
what use is life to me if it leads me daily nearer to
eternal death?

If, then, you are really surrendering yourselves to God,
as you say, cease to be anxious for yourselves, for He
bears your anxiety, and will bear it always. It is as
though a servant had gone into service and were anxious to
please his master in everything. The master is bound to give
him food for so long as he remains in his house, and in his
service, unless he is so poor that he has food neither for his
servant nor for himself. Here, however, the comparison breaks
down, for God is, and will always be, rich and powerful. It
would not be right for the servant to go to his master
every day and ask him for food when he knew that his
master would see that it was given him and so he would be sure
to receive it. To do this would be a waste of words.
His master would quite properly tell him that he should look
after his own business of serving and pleasing him, for, if he
worried himself unnecessarily, he would not do his work as
well as he should. So, sisters, those who will may worry about
asking for earthly bread; let our own task be to beg the
Eternal Father that we may merit our heavenly bread, so that,
although our bodily eyes cannot feast themselves on the sight
of Him since He is thus hidden from us, He may reveal Himself
to the eyes of the soul and may make Himself known to us as
another kind of food, full of delight and joy, which sustains
our life.

Do you suppose that this most holy food is not ample
sustenance even for the body and a potent medicine for bodily
ills? I am sure that it is. I know a person who was subject
to serious illnesses and often suffered great pain; and this
pain was taken away from her in a flash [117]and she became quite well again. This often
occurs, I believe; and cures are recorded from quite definite
illnesses which could not be counterfeited. As the wondrous
effects produced by this most holy bread in those who worthily
receive it are very well known, I will not describe all the
things that could be related about this person I mentioned,
though I have been enabled to learn about them and I know that
they are not fabrications. The Lord had given this person such
a lively faith that, when she heard people say they wished
they had lived when Christ walked on this earth, she would
smile to herself, for she knew that we have Him as truly with
us in the Most Holy Sacrament as people had Him then, and
wonder what more they could possibly want.

I know, too, that for many years this person, though by no
means perfect, always tried to strengthen her faith, when she
communicated, by thinking that it was exactly as if she saw
the Lord entering her house, with her own bodily eyes, for she
believed in very truth that this Lord was entering her poor
abode, and she ceased, as far as she could, to think of
outward things, and went into her abode with Him. She tried to
recollect her senses so that they might all become aware of
this great blessing, or rather, so that they should not hinder
the soul from becoming conscious of it. She imagined herself
at His feet and wept with the Magdalen exactly as if she had
seen Him with her bodily eyes in the Pharisee’s house. Even if
she felt no devotion, faith told her that it was good for her
to be there.

For, unless we want to be foolish and to close our minds to
facts, we cannot suppose that this is the work of the
imagination, as it is when we think of the Lord on the Cross,
or of other incidents of the Passion, and picture within
ourselves how these things happened. This is something which
is happening now; it is absolutely true; and we have no need
to go and seek Him somewhere a long way off. For we know that,
until the accidents of bread have been consumed by our natural
heat, the good Jesus is with us and we should [not lose so
good an opportunity but should] come to Him. If, while He
went about in the world, the sick were healed merely by
touching His clothes, how can we doubt that He will work
miracles when He is within us, if we have faith, or that He
will give us what we ask of Him since He is in our house? His
Majesty is not wont to offer us too little payment for His
lodging if we treat Him well.

If you grieve at not seeing Him with the eyes of the body,
remember that that would not be good for us, for it is one
thing to see Him glorified and quite another to see Him as He
was when He lived in the world. So weak is our nature that
nobody could endure the sight—in fact, there would be no
one left to endure it, for no one would wish to remain in the
world any longer. Once having seen this Eternal Truth, people
would realize that all the things we prize here are mockery
and falsehood. And if such great Majesty could be seen, how
could a miserable sinner like myself, after having so greatly
offended Him, remain so near to Him? Beneath those accidents
of bread, we can approach Him; for, if the King disguises
Himself, it would seem that we need not mind coming to Him
without so much circumspection and ceremony: by disguising
Himself, He has, as it were, obliged Himself to submit to
this. Who, otherwise, would dare to approach Him so
unworthily, with so many imperfections and with such lukewarm
zeal?

Oh, we know not what we ask! How much better does His Wisdom
know what we need! He reveals Himself to those who He knows
will profit by His presence; though unseen by bodily eyes, He
has many ways of revealing Himself to the soul through deep
inward emotions and by various other means. Delight to remain
with Him; do not lose such an excellent time for talking with
Him as the hour after Communion. Remember that this is
a very profitable hour for the soul; if you spend it in the
company of the good Jesus, you are doing Him a great
service. Be very careful, then, daughters, not to lose
it. If you are compelled by obedience to do something
else, try to leave your soul with the Lord. For He is your
Master, and, though it be in a way you may not understand,
He will not fail to teach you. But if you take your
thoughts elsewhere, and pay no more attention to Him
than if you had not received Him, and care nothing
for His being within you, how can He make Himself known to
you? You must complain, not of Him, but of yourself.
This, then, is a good time for our Master to teach us and for
us to listen to Him. I do not tell you to say no prayers
at all, for if I did you would take hold of my words and
say I was talking about contemplation, which you need
practise only if the Lord brings you to it. No: you should
say the Paternoster, realize that you are verily and indeed
in the company of Him Who taught it you and kiss His
feet in gratitude to Him for having desired to teach you and
beg Him to show you how to pray and never to leave
you.

You may be in the habit of praying while looking at a picture
of Christ, but at a time like this it seems foolish
to me to turn away from the living image—the
Person Himself—to look at His picture. Would it not be
foolish if we had a portrait of someone whom we dearly loved
and, when the person himself came to see us, we refused to
talk with him and carried on our entire conversation with the
portrait? Do you know when I find the use of a picture an
excellent thing, and take great pleasure in it? When the
person is absent and we are made to feel his loss by our great
aridity, it is then that we find it a great comfort to look at
the picture of Him Whom we have such reason to love. This
is a great inspiration, and makes us wish
that, in whichever direction we turn our eyes, we could see
the picture. What can we look upon that is better or more
attractive to the sight than upon Him Who so dearly loves us
and contains within Himself all good things? Unhappy are those
heretics, who through their own fault have lost this comfort,
as well as others.

When you have received the Lord, and are in His very presence,
try to shut the bodily eyes and to open the eyes of the soul
and to look into your own hearts. I tell you, and tell you
again, for I should like to repeat it often, that if you
practise this habit of staying with Him, not just once or
twice, but whenever you communicate, and strive to
keep your conscience clear so that you can often rejoice in
this your Good, He will not, as I have said, come so much
disguised as to be unable to make His presence known to you in
many ways, according to the desire which you have of seeing
Him. So great, indeed, may be your longing for Him that He
will reveal Himself to you wholly.

But if we pay no heed to Him save when we have received Him,
and go away from Him in search of other and baser things, what
can He do? Will He have to drag us by force to look at Him
and be with Him because He desires to reveal Himself
to us? No; for when He revealed Himself to all men plainly,
and told them clearly who He was, they did not treat Him at
all well—very few of them, indeed, even believed Him. So He
grants us an exceeding great favour when He is pleased to show
us that it is He Who is in the Most Holy Sacrament. But He
will not reveal Himself openly and communicate His glories and
bestow His treasures save on those who He knows greatly desire
Him, for these are His true friends. I assure you that anyone
who is not a true friend and does not come to receive Him as
such, after doing all in his power to prepare for Him, must
never importune Him to reveal Himself to him. Hardly is the
hour over which such a person has spent in fulfilling the
Church’s commandment than he goes home and tries to drive
Christ out of the house. What with all his other business and
occupations and worldly hindrances, he seems to be making all
possible haste to prevent the Lord from taking possession of
the house which is His own.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 35

Describes the recollection which should be
practised after Communion. Concludes this subject with an
exclamatory prayer to the Eternal Father.

I have written at length about this, although, when writing of
the Prayer of Recollection, I spoke of the great importance of
our entering into solitude with God. When you hear Mass
without communicating, daughters, you may communicate
spiritually, which is extremely profitable, and afterwards you
may practise inward recollection in exactly the same way, for
this impresses upon us a deep love of the Lord. If we prepare
to receive Him, He never fails to give, and He gives in many
ways that we cannot understand. It is as if we were to
approach a fire: it might be a very large one, but, if we
remained a long way from it and covered our hands, we should
get little warmth from it, although we should be warmer than
if we were in a place where there was no fire at all. But when
we try to approach the Lord there is this difference: if the
soul is properly disposed, and comes with the intention of
driving out the cold, and stays for some time where it is, it
will retain its warmth for several hours, and if any
little spark flies out, it will set it on fire.

It is of such importance, daughters, for us to prepare
ourselves in thy way that you must not be surprised if
I often repeat this counsel. If at first you do not
get on with this practice (which may happen, for the devil
will try to oppress and distress your heart, knowing what
great harm he can do in this way), the devil will make you
think that you can find more devotion in other things and less
in this. But [trust me and] do not give up this method, for
the Lord will use it to prove your love for Him. Remember
that there are few souls who stay with Him and follow Him in
His trials; let us endure something for Him and His Majesty
will repay us. Remember, too, that there are actually people
who not only have no wish to be with Him but who insult Him
and with great irreverence drive Him away from
their homes. We must endure something, therefore, to
show Him that we have the desire to see Him. In many
places He is neglected and ill-treated, but He suffers
everything, and will continue to do so, if He finds but one
single soul which will receive Him and love to have Him as its
Guest. [118]Let this soul be yours, then, for,
if there were none, the Eternal Father would rightly refuse to
allow Him to remain with us. Yet the Lord is so good a Friend
to those who are His friends, and so good a Master to those
who are His servants, that, when He knows it to be the will of
His Beloved Son, He will not hinder Him in so excellent
a work, in which His Son so fully reveals the love which He
has for His Father, as this wonderful way which He seeks
of showing how much He loves us and of helping us to bear
our trials.

Since, then, Holy Father, Who art in the Heavens, Thou dost
will and accept this (and it is clear that Thou couldst not
deny us a thing which is so good for us) there must be
someone, as I said at the beginning, who will speak for Thy
Son, for He has never defended Himself. Let this be the task
for us, daughters, though, having regard to what we are, it is
presumptuous of us to undertake it. Let us rely, however, on
Our Lord’s command to us to pray to Him, and, in fulfilment of
our obedience to Him, let us beseech His Majesty, in the name
of the good Jesus, that, as He has left nothing undone that He
could do for us in granting sinners so great a favour, He may
be pleased of His mercy to prevent Him from being so
ill-treated. Since His Holy Son has given us this excellent
way in which we can offer Him up frequently as a sacrifice,
let us make use of this precious gift so that it may stay the
advance of such terrible evil and irreverence as in many
places is paid to this Most Holy Sacrament. For these
Lutherans seem to want to drive Him out of the world
again: they destroy churches, cause the loss of many
priests and abolish the sacraments.[119] And there is something of this even among
Christians, who sometimes go to church meaning to offend
Him rather than to worship Him.

Why is this, my Lord and my God? Do Thou bring the world to an
end or give us a remedy for such grievous wrongs, which even
our wicked hearts cannot endure. I beseech Thee, Eternal
Father, endure it no longer: quench this fire, Lord, for Thou
canst do so if Thou wilt. Remember that Thy Son is still in
the world; may these dreadful things be stopped out of respect
for Him, horrible and abominable and foul as they are. With
His beauty and purity He does not deserve to be in a house
where such things happen. Do this, Lord, not for our sake, for
we do not deserve it, but for the sake of Thy Son. We dare not
entreat Thee that He should no longer stay with us, for
Thou hast granted His prayer to Thee to leave Him with us
for to-day—that is, until the end of the world. If
He were to go, what would become of us? It would be the end of
everything. If anything can placate Thee it is to have on
earth such a pledge as this. Since some remedy must be found
for this, then, my Lord, I beg Thy Majesty to apply it.
For if Thou wilt, Thou art able.

O my God, if only I could indeed importune Thee! If only I had
served Thee well so that I might be able to beg of Thee this
great favour as a reward for my services, for Thou leavest no
service unrewarded! But I have not served Thee, Lord; indeed,
it may perhaps be for my sins, and because I have so greatly
offended Thee, that so many evils come. What, then, can I do,
my Creator, but present to Thee this most holy Bread, which,
though Thou gavest it to us, I return to Thee, beseeching
Thee, by the merits of Thy Son, to grant me this favour, which
on so many counts He has merited? Do Thou, Lord, calm this
sea, and no longer allow this ship, which is Thy Church, to
endure so great a tempest. Save us, my Lord, for we
perish.[120]

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 36

Treats of these words in the Paternoster:
“Forgive us our debts.”

Our good Master sees that, if we have this heavenly food,
everything is easy for us, except when we are ourselves to
blame, and that we are well able to fulfil our undertaking to
the Father that His will shall be done in us. So He now asks
Him to forgive us our debts, as we ourselves forgive others.
Thus, continuing the prayer which He is teaching us, He says
these words: “And forgive us, Lord, our debts, even as we
forgive them to our debtors.”

Notice, sisters, that He does not say: “as we shall forgive.”
We are to understand that anyone who asks for so great a gift
as that just mentioned, and has already yielded his own will
to the will of God, must have done this already. And so He
says: “as we forgive our debtors.” Anyone, then, who sincerely
repeats this petition, “Fiat voluntas tua”, must, at least in
intention, have done this already. You see now why the saints
rejoiced in insults and persecutions: it was because these
gave them something to present to the Lord when they prayed to
Him. What can a poor creature like myself do, who has had so
little to forgive others and has so much to be forgiven
herself? This, sisters, is something which we should consider
carefully; it is such a serious and important matter that God
should pardon us our sins, which have merited eternal fire,
that we must pardon all trifling things which have been done
to us and which are not wrongs at all, or anything else.
For how is it possible, either in word or in deed, to wrong
one who, like myself, has deserved to be plagued by devils
for ever? Is it not only right that I should be
plagued[121]in
this world too? As I have so few, Lord, even of these
trifling things, to offer Thee, Thy pardoning of me must be
a free gift: there is abundant scope here for Thy mercy.
Thy Son must pardon me, for no one has done me any
injustice, and so there has been nothing that I can pardon
for Thy sake. But take my desire to do so, Lord, for
I believe I would forgive any wrong if Thou wouldst forgive
me and I might unconditionally do Thy will. True, if the
occasion were to arise, and I were condemned without cause,
I do not know what I should do. But at this moment I see
that I am so guilty in Thy sight that everything I might
have to suffer would fall short of my deserts, though
anyone not knowing, as Thou knowest, what I am, would think
I was being wronged. Blessed be Thou, Who endurest one
that is so poor: when Thy most holy Son makes this
petition in the name of all mankind, I cannot be included,
being such as I am and having nothing to give.

And supposing, my Lord, that there are others who are like
myself but have not realized that this is so? If there are any
such, I beg them, in Thy name, to remember this truth, and to
pay no heed to little things about which they think they are
being slighted, for, if they insist on these nice points of
honour, they become like children building houses of straw.
Oh, God help me, sisters! If we only knew what honour really
is and what is meant by losing it! I am not speaking now about
ourselves, for it would indeed be a bad business if we did not
understand this; I am speaking of myself as I was when
I prided myself on my honour without knowing what honour
meant; I just followed the example of others. Oh, how easily
I used to feel slighted! I am ashamed to think of it now; and
I was not one of those who worried most about such things
either. But I never grasped the essence of the matter, because
I neither thought nor troubled about true honour, which it is
good for us to have because it profits the soul. How truly has
someone said: “Honour and profit cannot go together.” I do not
know if this was what that person was thinking of when he said
it; but it is literally true, for the soul’s profit and what
the world calls honour can never be reconciled. Really, the
topsy-turviness of the world is terrible. Blessed be the Lord
for taking us out of it! May His Majesty grant that this
house shall always be as far from it as it is now! God
preserve us from religious houses where they worry about
points of honour! Such places never do much honour to
God.

God help us, how absurd it is for religious to connect
their honour with things so trifling that they amaze me!
You know nothing about this, sisters, but I will tell you
about it so that you may be wary. You see, sisters,
the devil has not forgotten us. He has invented honours of his
own for religious houses and has made laws by which we go up
and down in rank, as people do in the world. Learned men have
to observe this with regard to their studies (a matter of
which I know nothing): anyone, for example, who has got as far
as reading theology must not descend and read philosophy—
that is their kind of honour, according to which you must
always be going up and never going down. Even if someone were
commanded by obedience to take a step down, he would in
his own mind consider himself slighted; and then
someone would take his part [and say] it was an insult; next,
the devil would discover reasons for this—and he seems to
be an authority even in God’s own law. Why, among ourselves,
anyone who has been a prioress is thereby incapacitated from
holding any lower office for the rest of her life. We
must defer to the senior among us, and we are not allowed to
forget it either: sometimes it would appear to be a positive
merit for us to do this, because it is a rule of the
Order.

The thing is enough to make one laugh—or, it would be more
proper to say, to make one weep. After all, the Order does not
command us not to be humble: it commands us to do everything
in due form. And in matters which concern my own esteem
I ought not to be so formal as to insist that this detail of
our Rule shall be kept as strictly as the rest, which we may
in fact be observing very imperfectly. We must not put all our
effort into observing just this one detail: let my interests
be looked after by others—I will forget about myself
altogether. The fact is, although we shall never rise as far
as Heaven in this way, we are attracted by the thought of
rising higher, and we dislike climbing down. O, Lord, Lord,
art Thou our Example and our Master? Yes, indeed. And wherein
did Thy honour consist, O Lord, Who hast honoured us?[122] Didst Thou perchance lose it when Thou wert
humbled even to death? No, Lord, rather didst Thou gain it
for all.

For the love of God, sisters! We have lost our way; we have
taken the wrong path from the very beginning. God grant that
no soul be lost through its attention to these wretched
niceties about honour, when it has no idea wherein honour
consists. We shall get to the point of thinking that we have
done something wonderful because we have forgiven a person for
some trifling thing, which was neither a slight nor an insult
nor anything else. Then we shall ask the Lord to forgive us as
people who have done something important, just because we have
forgiven someone. Grant us, my God, to understand how little
we understand ourselves and how empty our hands are when we
come to Thee that Thou, of Thy mercy, mayest forgive us. For
in truth, Lord, since all things have an end and punishment is
eternal, I can see nothing meritorious which I may present to
Thee that Thou mayest grant us so great a favour. Do it, then,
for the sake of Him Who asks it of Thee, and Who may well
do so, for He is always being wronged and
offended.

How greatly the Lord must esteem this mutual love of ours one
for another! For, having given Him our wills, we have
given Him complete rights over us, and we cannot do that
without love. See, then, sisters, how important it is for
us to love one another and to be at peace. The good
Jesus might have put everything else before our love for one
another, and said: “Forgive us, Lord, because we are doing
a great deal of penance, or because we are praying often, and
fasting, and because we have left all for Thy sake and love
Thee greatly.” But He has never said: “Because we would lose
our lives for Thy sake”; or any of these [numerous] other
things which He might have said. He simply says: “Because we
forgive.” Perhaps the reason He said this rather
than anything else was because He knew that our
fondness for this dreadful honour made mutual love the hardest
virtue for us to attain, though it is the virtue dearest to
His Father. Because of its very difficulty He put it
where He did, and after having asked for so many great
gifts for us, He offers it on our behalf to God.

Note particularly, sisters, that He says: “As we forgive.” As
I have said, He takes this for granted. And observe especially
with regard to it that unless, after experiencing the favours
granted by God in the prayer that I have called perfect
contemplation, a person is very resolute, and makes a point,
if the occasion arises, of forgiving, not [only] these mere
nothings which people call wrongs, but any wrong, however
grave, you need not think much of that person’s prayer. [123]For wrongs have no
effect upon a soul whom God draws to Himself in such sublime
prayer as this, nor does it care if it is highly esteemed or
no. That is not quite correct: it does care, for honour
distresses much more than dishonour and it prefers trials to
a great deal of rest and ease. For anyone to whom the Lord has
really given His Kingdom no longer wants a kingdom in this
world, knowing that he is going the right way to reign in
a much more exalted manner, and having already discovered by
experience what great benefits the soul gains and what
progress it makes when it suffers for God’s sake. For only
very rarely does His Majesty grant it such great consolations,
and then only to those who have willingly borne many trials
for His sake. For contemplatives, as I have said elsewhere in
this book, have to bear heavy trials, and therefore the Lord
seeks out for Himself souls of great experience.

Understand, then, sisters, that as these persons have already
learned to rate everything at its proper valuation, they pay
little attention to things which pass away. A great wrong, or
a great trial, may cause them some momentary distress, but
they will hardly have felt it when reason will intervene, and
will seem to raise its standard aloft, and drive away their
distress by giving them the joy of seeing how God has
entrusted them with the opportunity of gaining, in a single
day, more lasting favours and graces in His Majesty’s sight
than they could gain in ten years by means of trials which
they sought on their own account. This, as I understand (and
I have talked about it with many contemplatives), is quite
usual, and I know for a fact that it happens. Just as other
people prize gold and jewels, so these persons prize and
desire trials, for they know quite well that trials will make
them rich.

Such persons would never on any account esteem themselves:
they want their sins to be known and like to speak about them
to people who they see have any esteem for them. The same is
true of their descent, which they know quite well will be of
no advantage to them in the kingdom which has no end. If being
of good birth were any satisfaction to them, it would be
because this would enable them to serve God better. If they
are not well born, it distresses them when people think them
better than they are, and it causes them no distress to
disabuse them, but only pleasure. The reason for this is that
those to whom God grants the favour of possessing such
humility and great love for Him forget themselves when there
is a possibility of rendering Him greater services, and simply
cannot believe that others are troubled by things which they
themselves do not consider as wrongs at all.

These last effects which I have mentioned are produced in
persons who have reached a high degree of perfection and to
whom the Lord commonly grants the favour of uniting them to
Himself by perfect contemplation. But the first of these
effects—namely, the determination to suffer wrongs even
though such suffering brings distress—is very quickly seen
in anyone to whom the Lord has granted this grace of prayer as
far as the stage of union. If these effects are not produced
in a soul and it is not strengthened by prayer, you may take
it that this was not Divine favour but indulgence and illusion
coming from the devil, which he makes us think to be
good, so that we may attach more importance to our
honour.

It may be that, when the Lord first grants these favours, the
soul will not immediately attain this fortitude. But, if He
continues to grant them, He will soon give it fortitude—
certainly, at least, as regards forgiveness, if not in the
other virtues as well. I cannot believe that a soul which has
approached so nearly to Mercy Itself, and has learned to know
itself and the greatness of God’s pardon, will not immediately
and readily forgive, and be mollified and remain on good terms
with a person who has done it wrong. For such a soul remembers
the consolation and grace which He has shown it, in which it
has recognized the signs of great love, and it is glad that
the occasion presents itself for showing Him some love in
return.

I repeat that I know many persons to whom Our Lord has granted
the grace of raising them to supernatural experiences and of
giving them this prayer, or contemplation, which has been
described; and although I may notice other faults and
imperfections in them, I have never seen such a person who had
this particular fault, nor do I believe such a person exists,
if the favours he has received are of God. If any one of you
receives high favours, let her look within herself and see if
they are producing these effects, and, if they are not, let
her be very fearful, and believe that these consolations are
not of God, Who, as I have said, when He visits the soul,
always enriches it. That is certain; for, although the grace
and the consolations may pass quickly, it can be recognized in
due course through the benefits which it bestows on the soul.
And, as the good Jesus knows this well, He gives a definite
assurance to His Holy Father that we are forgiving our
debtors.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 37

Describes the excellence of this prayer
called the Paternoster, and the many ways in which we shall
find consolation in it.

The sublimity of the perfection of this evangelical prayer is
something for which we should give great praise to the Lord.
So well composed by the good Master was it, daughters, that
each of us may use it in her own way. I am astounded when
I consider that in its few words are enshrined all
contemplation and perfection, so that if we study it no other
book seems necessary. For thus far in the Paternoster the Lord
has taught us the whole method of prayer and of high
contemplation, from the very beginnings of mental prayer, to
Quiet and Union. With so true a foundation to build upon,
I could write a great book on prayer if only I knew how to
express myself. As you have seen, Our Lord is beginning here
to explain to us the effects which it produces, when the
favours come from Him.

I have wondered why His Majesty did not expound such obscure
and sublime subjects in greater detail so that we might all
have understood them. It has occurred to me that, as this
prayer was meant to be a general one for the use of all, so
that everyone could interpret it as he thought right, ask for
what he wanted and find comfort in doing so, He left the
matter in doubt;[124] and thus contemplatives, who no longer
desire earthly things, and persons greatly devoted to God, can
ask for the heavenly favours which, through the great goodness
of God, may be given to us on earth. Those who still live on
earth, and must conform to the customs of their state, may
also ask for the bread which they need for their own
maintenance and for that of their households, as is perfectly
just and right, and they may also ask for other things
according as they need them.

(Blessed be His name for ever and ever. Amen. For His sake
I entreat the Eternal Father to forgive my debts and
grievous sins: though no one has wronged me, and I have
therefore no one to forgive,[125]I have myself need for
forgiveness every day. May He give me grace so that every
day I may have some petition to lay before Him.)

The good Jesus, then, has taught us a sublime method of
prayer, and begged that, in this our life of exile, we may
be like the angels, if we endeavour, with our whole might,
to make our actions conform to our words—in short, to be
like the children of such a Father, and the brethren of
such a Brother. His Majesty knows that if, as I say, our
actions and our words are one, the Lord will unfailingly
fulfil our petitions, give us His kingdom and help us by
means of supernatural gifts, such as the Prayer of Quiet,
perfect contemplation and all the other favours which the
Lord bestows on our trifling efforts—and everything is
trifling which we can achieve and gain by ourselves
alone.

It must be realized, however, that these two things—
surrendering our will to God and forgiving others—apply to
all. True, some practise them more and some less, as has been
said: those who are perfect will surrender their wills like
the perfect souls they are and will forgive others with the
perfection that has been described. For our own part, sisters,
we will do what we can, and the Lord will accept it all. It is
as if He were to make a kind of agreement on our behalf with
His Eternal Father, and to say: “Do this, Lord, and My
brethren shall do that.” It is certain that He for His own
part will not fail us. Oh, how well He pays us and how
limitless are His rewards!

We may say this prayer only once, and yet in such a way that
He will know that there is no duplicity about us and that we
shall do what we say; and so He will leave us rich. We must
never be insincere with Him, for He loves us, in all our
dealings with Him, to be honest, and to treat Him frankly and
openly, never saying one thing and meaning another; and then
He will always give us more than we ask for. Our good Master
knows that those who attain real perfection in their petitions
will reach this high degree through the favours which the
Father will grant them, and is aware that those who are
already perfect, or who are on the way to perfection, do not
and cannot fear, for they say they have trampled the world
beneath their feet, and the Lord of the world is pleased with
them. They will derive the greatest hope of His Majesty’s
pleasure from the effects which He produces in their souls;
absorbed in these joys, they wish they were unable to remember
that there is any other world at all, and that they have
enemies.

O Eternal Wisdom! O good Teacher! What a wonderful thing it
is, daughters, to have a wise and prudent Master who foresees
our perils! This is the greatest blessing that the spiritual
soul still on earth can desire, because it brings complete
security. No words could ever exaggerate the importance of
this. The Lord, then, saw it was necessary to awaken such
souls and to remind them that they have enemies, and how much
greater danger they are in if they are unprepared, and, since
if they fall it will be from a greater height, how much more
help they need from the Eternal Father. So, lest they should
fail to realize their danger and suffer deception, He offers
these petitions so necessary to us all while we live in this
exile: “And lead us not, Lord, into temptation, but deliver us
from evil.”

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 38

Treats of the great need which we have to
beseech the Eternal Father to grant us what we ask in these
words: “And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.”
Explains certain
temptations. This chapter is noteworthy.

There are great things here for us to meditate upon, sisters,
and to learn to understand as we pray. Remember I consider it
quite certain that those who attain perfection do not ask the
Lord to deliver them from trials, temptations, persecutions
and conflicts—and that is another sure and striking sign
that these favours and this contemplation which His Majesty
gives them are coming from the Spirit of the Lord and are not
illusions. For, as I said a little way back, perfect souls
are in no way repelled by trials, but rather desire
them and pray for them and love them. They are like soldiers:
the more wars there are, the better they are pleased, because
they hope to emerge from them with the greater riches. [126]If there are no wars,
they serve for their pay, but they know they will not get very
far on that.

Believe me, sisters, the soldiers of Christ—namely, those
who experience contemplation and practise prayer—are always
ready for the hour of conflict. They are never very much
afraid of their open enemies, for they know who they are and
are sure that their strength can never prevail against the
strength which they themselves have been given by the Lord:
they will always be victorious and gain great riches, so they
will never turn their backs on the battle. Those whom they
fear, and fear rightly, and from whom they always beg the Lord
to deliver them, are enemies who are treacherous, devils who
transform themselves and come and visit them in the disguise
of angels of light. The soul fails to recognize them until
they have done it a great deal of harm; they suck our
life-blood and put an end to our virtues and we go on yielding
to temptation without knowing it. From these enemies let us
pray the Lord often, in the Paternoster, to deliver us: may He
not allow us to run into temptations which deceive us; may
their poison be detected; and may light and truth not be
hidden from us. How rightly does our good Master teach us to
pray for this and pray for it in our name!

Consider, daughters, in how many ways these enemies do us
harm. Do not suppose that the sole danger lies in their
making us believe that the consolations and the favours which
they can counterfeit to us come from God. This, I think, in
a way, is the least harmful thing they can do; it may even
help some whom this sensible devotion entices to spend more
time in prayer and thus to make greater progress. Being
ignorant that these consolations come from the devil, and
knowing themselves to be unworthy of such favours, they will
never cease to give thanks to God and will feel the greater
obligation to serve Him; further, they will strive to prepare
themselves for more favours which the Lord may grant them,
since they believe them to come from His hand.

Always strive after humility, sisters, and try to realize that
you are not worthy of these graces, and do not seek them. It
is because many souls do this, I feel sure, that the devil
loses them: he thinks that he has caused their ruin, but out
of the evil which he has been trying to do the Lord brings
good. For His Majesty regards our intention, which is to
please Him and serve Him and keep near to Him in prayer, and
the Lord is faithful. We shall do well to be cautious, and not
to let our humility break down or to become in any way
vainglorious. Entreat the Lord to deliver you from this,
daughters, and you need then have no fear that His Majesty
will allow you to be comforted much by anyone but Himself.

Where the devil can do great harm without our realizing it is
in making us believe that we possess virtues which we do not:
that is pestilential. For, when consolations and favours come
to us, we feel that we are doing nothing but receive, and have
the greater obligation to serve; but when we suffer from this
other delusion we think that we are giving and serving, and
that the Lord will be obliged to reward us; and this, little
by little, does us a great deal of harm. On the one hand, our
humility is weakened, while, on the other, we neglect to
cultivate that virtue, believing we have already acquired it.
We think we are walking safely, when, without realizing
it, we stumble, and fall into a pit from which we cannot
escape. Though we may not consciously have committed any
mortal sin which would have sent us infallibly to hell, we
have sprained our ankles and cannot continue on that road
which I began to speak about and which I have not
forgotten. You can imagine how much progress will be made
by anyone who is at the bottom of a huge pit: it will be
the end of him altogether and he will be lucky if he
escapes falling right down to hell: at best, he will never
get on with his journey. This being so, he will be unable
to help either himself or others. It will be a bad thing
for others, too, for, once the pit has been dug, a great
many passers-by may fall into it. Only if the person who
has fallen in gets out of it and fills it up with earth
will further harm to himself and others be prevented. But
I warn you that this temptation is full of peril. I know
a great deal about it from experience, so I can describe it
to you, though not as well as I should like. What can
we do about it, sisters? To me the best thing seems to be what
our Master teaches us: to pray, and to beseech the Eternal
Father not to allow us to fall into temptation.

There is something else, too, which I want to tell you. If we
think the Lord has given us a certain grace, we must
understand that it is a blessing which we have received but
which He may take away from us again, as indeed, in the great
providence of God, often happens. Have you never observed this
yourselves, sisters? I certainly have: sometimes I think I am
extremely detached, and, in fact, when it comes to the test,
I am; yet at other times I find I have such attachment to
things which the day before I should perhaps have scoffed at
that I hardly know myself. At some other time I seem to have
so much courage that I should not quail at anything I was
asked to do in order to serve God, and, when I am tested,
I find that I really can do these things. And then on the next
day I discover that I should not have the courage to kill an
ant for God’s sake if I were to meet with any opposition about
it. Sometimes it seems not to matter in the least if people
complain or speak ill of me, and, when the test comes, I still
feel like this—indeed, I even get pleasure from it. And
then there come days when a single word distresses me and
I long to leave the world altogether, for everything in it
seems to weary me. And I am not the only person to be like
this, for I have noticed the same thing in many people better
than myself, so I know it can happen.

That being so, who can say that he possesses any virtue, or
that he is rich, if at the time when he most needs this virtue
he finds himself devoid of it? No, sisters: let us rather
think of ourselves as lacking it and not run into debt without
having the means of repayment. Our treasure must come from
elsewhere and we never know when God will leave us in this
prison of our misery without giving us any. If others,
thinking we are good, bestow favours and honours upon us, both
they and we shall look foolish when, as I say, it becomes
clear that our virtues are only lent us. The truth is that, if
we serve the Lord with humility, He will sooner or later
succour us in our needs. But, if we are not strong in this
virtue, the Lord will leave us to ourselves, as they say, at
every step. This is a great favour on His part, for it helps
us to realize fully that we have nothing which has not been
given us.

And now you must take note of this other piece of advice. The
devil makes us believe that we have some virtue—patience,
let us say—because we have determination and make continual
resolutions to suffer a great deal for God’s sake. We really
and truly believe that we would suffer all this, and the devil
encourages us in the belief, and so we are very pleased.
I advise you to place no reliance on these virtues: we ought
not to think that we know anything about them beyond their
names, or to imagine that the Lord has given them to us, until
we come to the test. For it may be that at the first annoying
word which people say to you your patience will fall to the
ground. Whenever you have frequently to suffer, praise God for
beginning to teach you this virtue, and force yourself to
suffer patiently, for this is a sign that He wants you to
repay Him for the virtue which He is giving you, and you must
think of it only as a deposit, as has already been said.

The devil has yet another temptation, which is to make us
appear very poor in spirit: we are in the habit of saying that
we want nothing and care nothing about anything: but as soon
as the chance comes of our being given something, even though
we do not in the least need it, all our poverty of spirit
disappears. Accustoming ourselves to saying this goes far
towards making us think it true. It is very important always
to be on the watch and to realize that this is a temptation,
both in the things I have referred to and in many others. For
when the Lord really gives one of these solid virtues, it
seems to bring all the rest in its train: that is a very
well-known fact. But I advise you once more, even if you think
you possess it, to suspect that you may be mistaken; for the
person who is truly humble is always doubtful about his own
virtues; very often they seem more genuine and of greater
worth when he sees them in his neighbours.

The devil makes you think you are poor, and he has some
reason for doing so, because you have made (with the lips,
of course) a vow of poverty, as have some other people who
practise prayer. I say “with the lips” because, if before
making the vow we really meant in our hearts what we were
going to say, the devil could not possibly lead us into
that temptation—not even in twenty years, or in our
entire lifetime—for we should see that we were deceiving
the whole world, and ourselves into the bargain. Well, we
make our vow of poverty, and then one of us, believing
herself all the time to be keeping it, says: “I do not want
anything, but I am having this because I cannot do without
it: after all, if I am to serve God, I must live, and He
wants us to keep these bodies of ours alive.” So the devil,
in his angelic disguise, suggests to her that there are
a thousand different things which she needs and that they
are all good for her. And all the time he is persuading her
to believe that she is still being true to her vow and
possesses the virtue of poverty and that what she has done
is no more than her duty.

And now let us take a test case, for we can only get to
the truth of this by keeping a continual watch on
ourselves: then, if there is any cause for anxiety on our
part, we shall at once recognize the symptoms. Here is
someone who has a larger income than he needs—I mean,
needs for the necessaries of life—and, though he could
do with a single manservant, he keeps three. Yet, when he
is sued in the courts in connection with a part of his
property, or some poor peasant omits to pay him his dues,
he gets as upset and excited about it as if his life were
at stake. He says he must look after his property or he
will lose it, and considers that that justifies him. I do
not suggest that he ought to neglect his property: whether
or no things go well with him, he should look after it. But
a person whose profession of poverty is a genuine one makes
so little account of these things that, although for
various reasons he attends to his own interests, he never
worries about them, because he never supposes he will lose
everything he has; and, even if he should do so, he would
consider it of no great moment, for the matter is one of
secondary importance to him and not his principal concern.
His thoughts rise high above it and he has to make an
effort to occupy himself with it at all.

Now monks and nuns are demonstrably poor—they must be
so, for they possess nothing: sometimes because there is
nothing for them to possess. But if a religious of the type
just mentioned is given anything, it is most unlikely that
he will think it superfluous. He always likes to have
something laid by; if he can get a habit of good cloth, he
will not ask for one of coarse material. He likes to have
some trifle, if only books, which he can pawn or sell, for
if he falls ill he will need extra comforts. Sinner that
I am! Is this the vow of poverty that you took? Stop
worrying about yourself and leave God to provide for you,
come what may. If you are going about trying to provide for
your own future, it would be less trouble for you to have
a fixed income. This may not involve any sin, but it is as
well that we should learn to recognize our imperfections,
so that we can see how far we are from possessing the
virtue of poverty, which we must beg and obtain from God.
If we think we already possess it, we shall grow careless,
and, what is worse, we shall be deceiving
ourselves.

The same thing happens with regard to humility.[127]We think that we
have no desire for honour and that we care nothing about
anything; but as soon as our honour comes to be slighted in
some detail our feelings and actions at once show that we
are not humble at all. If an opportunity occurs for us to
gain more honour, we do not reject it; even those who are
poor, and to whom I have just referred, are anxious to have
as much profit as possible—God grant we may not go so
far as actually to seek it! We always have phrases on our
lips about wanting nothing, and caring nothing about
anything, and we honestly think them to be true, and get so
used to repeating them that we come to believe them more
and more firmly. But when, as I say, we keep on the watch,
we realize that this is a temptation, as regards both the
virtue I have spoken of and all the rest; for when we
really have one of these solid virtues, it brings all the
rest in its train: that is a very well-known fact.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 39

Continues the same subject and gives counsels
concerning different kinds of temptation. Suggests two
remedies by which we may be freed from temptations.

[A marginal addition made, in the autograph, to
the title by another hand reads: “This chapter is very
noteworthy, both for those tempted by false kinds of
humility and for confessors.” This is found in T. and in
most of the editions.]

Beware also, daughters, of certain kinds of humility which the
devil inculcates in us and which make us very uneasy about the
gravity of our past sins. There are many ways in
which he is accustomed to depress us so that in time we
withdraw from Communion and give up our private prayer,
because the devil suggests to us that we are not worthy to
engage in it. When we come to the Most Holy Sacrament, we
spend the time during which we ought to be receiving grace in
wondering whether we are properly prepared or no. The thing
gets to such a pass that a soul can be made to believe that,
through being what it is, it has been forsaken by God, and
thus it almost doubts His mercy. Everything such a person does
appears to her to be dangerous, and all the service she
renders, however good it may be, seems to her fruitless. She
loses confidence and sits with her hands in her lap because
she thinks she can do nothing well and that what is good in
others is wrong in herself.

Pay great attention, daughters, to this point which I shall
now make, because sometimes thinking yourselves so wicked may
be humility and virtue and at other times a very great
temptation. I have had experience of this, so I know it is
true. Humility, however deep it be, neither disquiets nor
troubles nor disturbs the soul; it is accompanied by peace,
joy and tranquillity. Although, on realizing how wicked we
are, we can see clearly that we deserve to be in hell, and are
distressed by our sinfulness, and rightly think that everyone
should hate us, yet, if our humility is true, this distress is
accompanied by an interior peace and joy of which we should
not like to be deprived. Far from disturbing or depressing the
soul, it enlarges it and makes it fit to serve God better. The
other kind of distress only disturbs and upsets the mind and
troubles the soul, so grievous is it. I think the devil is
anxious for us to believe that we are humble, and, if he can,
to lead us to distrust God.

When you find yourselves in this state, cease thinking, so far
as you can, of your own wretchedness, and think of the mercy
of God and of His love and His sufferings for us. If your
state of mind is the result of temptation, you will be unable
to do even this, for it will not allow you to quiet your
thoughts or to fix them on anything but will only weary you
the more: it will be a great thing if you can recognize it as
a temptation. This is what happens when we perform excessive
penances in order to make ourselves believe that, because of
what we are doing, we are more penitent than others. If we
conceal our penances from our confessor or superior, or if we
are told to give them up and do not obey, that is a clear case
of temptation. Always try to obey, however much it may hurt
you to do so, for that is the greatest possible
perfection.

There is another very dangerous kind of temptation: a feeling
of security caused by the belief that we shall never again
return to our past faults and to the pleasures of the world.
“I know all about these things now,” we say, “and I realize
that they all come to an end and I get more pleasure from the
things of God.” If this temptation comes to beginners it is
very serious; for, having this sense of security, they think
nothing of running once more into occasions of sin. They soon
come up against these—and then God preserve them from
falling back farther than before! The devil, seeing that here
are souls which may do him harm and be of great help to
others, does all in his power to prevent them from rising
again. However many consolations and pledges of love the Lord
may give you, therefore, you must never be so sure of
yourselves that you cease to be afraid of falling back again,
and you must keep yourselves from occasions of sin.

Do all you can to discuss these graces and favours with
someone who can give you light and have no secrets from him.
However sublime your contemplation may be, take great care
both to begin and to end every period of prayer with
self-examination. If these favours come from God, you will do
this more frequently, without either taking or needing any
advice from me, for such favours bring humility with them and
always leave us with more light by which we may see our own
unworthiness. I will say no more here, for you will find many
books which give this kind of advice. I have said all this
because I have had experience of the matter and have sometimes
found myself in difficulties of this nature. Nothing that can
be said about it, however, will give us complete security.

What, then, Eternal Father, can we do but flee to Thee and beg
Thee not to allow these enemies of ours to lead us into
temptations? If attacks are made upon us publicly, we shall
easily surmount them, with Thy help. But how can we be ready
for these treacherous assaults, [128]my God?
We need constantly to pray for Thy help. Show us, Lord, some
way of recognizing them and guarding against them. Thou
knowest that there are not many who walk along this road, and
if so many fears are to beset them, there will be far
fewer.

What a strange thing it is! You might suppose that the devil
never tempted those who do not walk along the road of prayer!
People get a greater shock when deception overtakes a single
one of the many persons who are striving to be perfect than
when a hundred thousand others are deceived and fall into open
sin, whom there is no need to look at in order to see if they
are good or evil, for Satan can be seen at their side
a thousand leagues away. But as a matter of fact people are
right about this, for very few who say the Paternoster in the
way that has been described are deceived by the devil, so
that, if the deception of one of them causes surprise, that is
because it is a new and an unusual thing. For human nature is
such that we scarcely notice what we see frequently but are
astounded at what we see seldom or hardly at all. And the
devils themselves encourage this astonishment, for if a single
soul attains perfection it robs them of many others.

It is so strange, I repeat, that I am not surprised if
people are amazed at it; for, unless they are altogether at
fault, they are much safer on this road than on any other,
just as people who watch a bull-fight from the grand-stand
are safer than the men who expose themselves to a thrust
from the bull’s horns. This comparison, which I heard
somewhere, seems to me very exact. Do not be afraid to walk
on these roads, sisters, for there are many of them in the
life of prayer—and some people get most help by using
one of them and others by using another, as I have said.
This road is a safe one and you will the more readily
escape from temptation if you are near the Lord than if you
are far away from Him. Beseech and entreat this of Him, as
you do so many times each day in the Paternoster.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 40

Describes how, by striving always to walk in
the love and fear of God, we shall travel safely amid all
these temptations.

Show us, then, O our good Master, some way in which we may
live through this most dangerous warfare without frequent
surprise. The best way that we can do this, daughters, is to
use the love and fear given us by His Majesty. For love will
make us quicken our steps, while fear will make us look where
we are setting our feet so that we shall not fall on a road
where there are so many obstacles. Along that road all living
creatures must pass, and if we have these two things we shall
certainly not be deceived.

You will ask me how you can tell if you really have these two
very, very great virtues. [129]You are
right to ask, for we can never be quite definite and certain
about it; if we were sure that we possessed love, we should be
sure that we were in a state of grace. But you know, sisters,
there are some indications which are in no way secret but so
evident that even a blind man, as people say, could see them.
You may not wish to heed them, but they cry so loud for notice
that they make quite an uproar, for there are not many who
possess them to the point of perfection and thus they are the
more readily noticed. Love and fear of God! These are two
strong castles whence we can wage war on the world and on the
devils.

Those who really love God love all good, seek all good, help
forward all good, praise all good, and invariably join forces
with good men and help and defend them. They love only truth
and things worthy of love. Do you think it possible that
anyone who really and truly loves God can love vanities,
riches, worldly pleasures or honours? Can he engage in strife
or feel envy? No; for his only desire is to please the
Beloved. Such persons die with longing for Him to love them
and so they will give their lives to learn how they may please
Him better. Will they hide their love? No: if their love for
God is genuine love they cannot. Why, think of Saint Paul or
the Magdalen. One of these—Saint Paul—found in three
days that he was sick with love. The Magdalen discovered this
on the very first day. And how certain of it they were! For
there are degrees of love for God, which shows itself in
proportion to its strength. If there is little of it, it shows
itself but little; if there is much, it shows itself a great
deal. But it always shows itself, whether little or much,
provided it is real love for God.

But to come to what we are chiefly treating of now—the
deceptions and illusions practised against contemplatives by
the devil—such souls have no little love; for had they not
a great deal they would not be contemplatives, and so their
love shows itself plainly and in many ways. Being a great
fire, it cannot fail to give out a very bright light. If they
have not much love, they should proceed with many misgivings
and realize that they have great cause for fear; and they
should try to find out what is wrong with them, say their
prayers, walk in humility and beseech the Lord not to lead
them into temptation, into which, I fear, they will certainly
fall unless they bear this sign. But if they walk humbly and
strive to discover the truth and do as their confessor bids
them and tell him the plain truth, then the Lord is faithful,
and, as has been said, by using the very means with which he
had thought to give them death, the devil will give them life,
with however many fantasies and illusions he tries to deceive
them. If they submit to the teaching of the Church, they
need not fear; whatever fantasies and illusions the devil
may invent, he will at once betray his presence.

But if you feel this love for God which I have spoken of, and
the fear which I shall now describe, you may go on your way
with happiness and tranquillity. In order to disturb the soul
and keep it from enjoying these great blessings, the devil
will suggest to it a thousand false fears and will persuade
other people to do the same; for if he cannot win souls he
will at least try to make them lose something, and among the
losers will be those who might have gained greatly had they
believed that such great favours, bestowed upon so miserable
a creature, come from God, and that it is possible for them to
be thus bestowed, for sometimes we seem to forget His past
mercies.

Do you suppose that it is of little use to the devil to
suggest these fears? No, it is most useful to him, for there
are two well-known ways in which he can make use of
this means to harm us, to say nothing of others.
First, he can make those who listen to him fearful of engaging
in prayer, because they think that they will be deceived.
Secondly, he can dissuade many from approaching God who, as
I have said, see that He is so good that He will hold intimate
converse with sinners. Many such souls think that He will
treat them in the same way, and they are right: I myself know
certain persons inspired in this way who began the habit of
prayer and in a short time became truly devout and received
great favours from the Lord.

Therefore, sisters, when you see someone to whom the Lord is
granting these favours, praise Him fervently, yet do not
imagine that she is safe, but aid her with more prayer, for no
one can be safe in this life amid the engulfing dangers of
this stormy sea. Wherever this love is, then, you will not
fail to recognize it; I do not know how it could be concealed.
For they say that it is impossible for us to hide our love
even for creatures, and that, the more we try to conceal it,
the more clearly is it revealed. And yet this is so worthless
that it hardly deserves the name of love, for it is founded
upon nothing at all: it is loathsome, indeed, to make this
comparison. How, then, could a love like God’s be
concealed—so strong, so righteous, continually increasing,
never seeing cause for ceasing to manifest itself, and resting
upon the firm foundation of the love which is its reward? As
to the reality of this reward there can be no doubt, for it is
manifest in Our Lord’s great sorrows, His trials, the shedding
of His blood and even the loss of His life. Certainly, then,
there is no doubt as to this love. It is indeed love, and
deserves that name, of which worldly vanities have robbed
it. God help me! How different must the one love be
from the other to those who have experience of both!

May His Majesty be pleased to grant us to experience
this before He takes us from this life, for it will be a great
thing at the hour of death, when we are going we know not
whither, to realize that we shall be judged by One
Whom we have loved above all things, and with a passion
that makes us entirely forget ourselves. Once our
debts have been paid we shall be able to walls in safety. We
shall not be going into a foreign land, but into our own
country, for it belongs to Him Whom we have loved so truly and
Who Himself loves us. For this love of His, besides its
other properties, is better than all earthly affection in
that, if we love Him, we are quite sure that He loves us
too. Remember, my daughters, the greatness of the gain
which comes from this love, and of our loss if we do not
possess it, for in that case we shall be delivered into the
hands of the tempter, hands so cruel and so hostile to all
that is good, and so friendly to all that is evil.

What will become of the poor soul when it falls into these
hands after emerging from all the pains and trials of death?
How little rest it will have! How it will be torn as it goes
down to hell! What swarms and varieties of serpents it will
meet! How dreadful is that place! How miserable that lodging!
Why, a pampered person (and most of those who go to hell are
that) can hardly bear to spend a single night in a bad inn:
what, then, will be the feelings of that wretched soul when it
is condemned to such an inn as this and has to spend eternity
there? [130]Let us not try to pamper
ourselves, daughters. We are quite well off here: there is
only a single night for us to spend in this bad inn. Let us
praise God and strive to do penance in this life. How sweet
will be the death of those who have done penance for all their
sins and have not to go to purgatory! It may be that they will
begin to enjoy glory even in this world, and will know no
fear, but only peace.

Even if we do not attain to this, sisters, let us beseech God
that, if in due course we must suffer these pains, it may be
with a hope of emerging from them. Then we shall suffer them
willingly and lose neither the friendship nor the grace of
God. May He grant us these in this life so that we may not
unwittingly fall into temptation.

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 41

Speaks of the fear of God and of how we must
keep ourselves from venial sins.

How I have enlarged on this subject! Yet I have not said as
much about it as I should like; for it is a delightful thing
to talk about this love of God. What, then, must it
be to possess it? May the Lord, for His own sake, give it
me! May I not depart from this life till there is nothing
in it that I desire, till I have forgotten what it is to
love anything but Thee and till I deny the name of love to
any other kind of affection—for all love is false but
love of Thee, and, unless the foundations of a building are
true, the building itself will not endure. I do not know
why it surprises us to hear people say: “So-and-so has made
me a poor return for something.” “Someone else does not
like me.” I laugh to myself when I hear that. What other
sort of return do you expect him to make you? And why do
you expect anyone to like you? These things will show you
what the world is; your love itself becomes your
punishment, and the reason why you are so upset about it is
that your will strongly resents your involving it in such
childish pastimes.

Let us now come to the fear of God—though I am sorry
not to be able to say a little about this worldly love,
which, for my sins, I know well and should like to acquaint
you with, so that you may free yourself from it for ever.
But I am straying from my subject and shall have to pass
on.

This fear of God is another thing with which those who possess
it and those who have to do with them are very familiar. But
I should like you to realize that at first it is not very
deep, save in a few people, to whom, as I have said, the Lord
grants such great favours as to make them rich in virtues
and to raise them, in a very short time, to great heights
of prayer. It is not recognizable, therefore, at
first, in everyone. As it increases, it grows stronger each
day, and then, of course, it can be recognized, for those who
possess it forsake sin, and occasions of sin, and bad company,
and other signs of it are visible in them. When at last the
soul attains to contemplation, of which we are chiefly
treating at the moment, its fear of God is plainly revealed,
and its love is not dissembled even outwardly. However
narrowly we watch such persons, we shall not find them growing
careless; for, close as our watch on them may be, the Lord so
preserves them that they would not knowingly commit one venial
sin even to further their own interests, and, as for mortal
sin, they fear it like fire. These are the illusions, sisters,
which I should like you always to fear; let us always beseech
God that temptation may not be strong enough for us to offend
Him but that He may send it to us in proportion to the
strength which He gives us to conquer it. If we keep
a pure conscience, we can suffer little or no harm.
That is the important point; and that is the fear which I hope
will never be taken from us, for it is that fear which will
stand us in good stead.

Oh, what a great thing it is not to have offended the Lord, so
that the servants and slaves of hell [131]may be kept under control! In the end,
whether willingly or no, we shall all serve Him—they by
compulsion and we with our whole heart. So that, if we please
Him, they will be kept at bay and will do nothing that can
harm us, however much they lead us into temptation and lay
secret snares for us.

Keep this in mind, for it is very important advice, so do not
neglect it until you find you have such a fixed determination
not to offend the Lord that you would rather lose a thousand
lives and be persecuted by the whole world, than
commit one mortal sin, and until you are most careful not to
commit venial sins. I am referring now to sins committed
knowingly: as far as those of the other kind are concerned,
who can fail to commit them frequently? But it is one thing to
commit a sin knowingly and after long deliberation, and quite
another to do it so suddenly that the knowledge of its being
a venial sin and its commission are one and the same thing,
and we hardly realize what we have done, although we do to
some extent realize it. From any sin, however small,
committed with full knowledge, may God deliver us, especially
since we are sinning against so great a Sovereign and
realizing that He is watching us! That seems to me to be a sin
committed of malice aforethought; it is as though one were to
say: “Lord, although this displeases Thee, I shall do it.
I know that Thou seest it and I know that Thou wouldst not
have me do it; but, though I understand this, I would rather
follow my own whim and desire than Thy will.” If we commit
a sin in this way, however slight, it seems to me that our
offence is not small but very, very great.

For the love of God, sisters, never be careless about this
—and, glory be to the Lord, you are not so at
present. If you would gain this fear of God,
remember the importance of habit and of starting to
realize what a serious thing it is to offend Him. Do your
utmost to learn this and to turn it over in your
minds; for our life, and much more than our life,
depends upon this virtue being firmly planted in our souls.
Until you are conscious within your soul of possessing it, you
need always to exercise very great care and to avoid all
occasions of sin and any kind of company which will not help
you to get nearer to God. Be most careful, in all that you do,
to bend your will to it; see that all you say tends to
edification; flee from all places where there is conversation
which is not pleasing to God. Much care is needed if this fear
of God is to be thoroughly impressed upon the soul; though, if
one has true love, it is quickly acquired. Even when the soul
has that firm inward determination which I have described, not
to offend God for the sake of any creature, or from fear
of a thousand deaths, it may subsequently fall from
time to time, for we are weak and cannot trust ourselves, and,
the more determined we are, the less self-confidence we should
have, for confidence must come from God. But, when we find
ourselves in this state, we need not feel constrained or
depressed, for the Lord will help us and the habits we have
formed will be of assistance to us so that we shall not offend
Him; we shall be able to walk in holy freedom, and associate
with anyone, as seems right to us, even with dissolute people.
These will do you no harm, if you hate sin. Before we
had this true fear of God worldly people would have been
poisonous to us and would have helped to ruin our souls; but
now they will often help us to love God more and to praise Him
for having delivered us from what we see to be a notorious
danger. And whereas we for our part may previously have
helped to foster their weaknesses, we shall now be helping to
repress them, because they will restrain themselves in our
presence, and this is a compliment which they will pay us
without our desiring it.

I often praise the Lord (though I also wonder why it should be
so) that merely by his presence, and without saying a word,
a servant of God should frequently prevent people from
speaking against Him. It may be as it is in worldly
intercourse: a person is always spoken of with respect, even
in his absence, before those who are known to be his friends,
lest they should be offended. Since this servant of God is in
a state of grace, this grace must cause him to be respected,
however lowly his station, for people will not distress him in
a matter about which they know him to feel so strongly as
giving offence to God. I really do not know the reason for
this but I do know that it very commonly happens. Do not be
too strict with yourselves, then, for, if your spirit begins
to quail, it will do great harm to what is good in you and may
sometimes lead to scrupulosity, which is a hindrance to
progress both in yourselves and in others. Even if things are
not as bad as this, a person, however good in herself, will
not lead many souls to God if they see that she is so strict
and timorous. Human nature is such that these characteristics
will frighten and oppress it and lead people to avoid the road
you are taking, even if they are quite clear it is the best
one.

Another source of harm is this: we may judge others
unfavourably, though they may be holier than ourselves,
because they do not walk as we do, but, in order to profit
their neighbours, talk freely and without restraint. You think
such people are imperfect; and if they are good and yet at the
same time of a lively disposition, you think them dissolute.
This is especially true of those of us who are unlearned and
are not sure what we can speak about without committing sin.
It is a very dangerous state of mind, leading to great
uneasiness and to continual temptation, because it is unfair
to our neighbour. It is very wrong to think that everyone who
does not follow in your own timorous footsteps has something
the matter with her. Another danger is that, when it is your
duty to speak, and right that you should speak, you may not
dare to do so lest you say too much and may perhaps speak well
of things that you ought to hate.

Try, then, sisters, to be as pleasant as you can, without
offending God, and to get on as well as you can with those you
have to deal with, so that they may like talking to you and
want to follow your way of life and conversation, and not be
frightened and put off by virtue. This is very important for
nuns: the holier they are, the more sociable they should be
with their sisters. Although you may be very sorry if all your
sisters’ conversation is not just as you would like it to be,
never keep aloof from them if you wish to help them and to
have their love. We must try hard to be pleasant, and to
humour the people we deal with and make them like us,
especially our sisters.

So try, my daughters, to bear in mind that God does not pay
great attention to all the trifling matters which occupy you,
and do not allow these things to make your spirit quail and
your courage fade, for if you do that you may lose many
blessings. As I have said, let your intention be upright and
your will determined not to offend God. But do not let your
soul dwell in seclusion, or, instead of acquiring holiness,
you will develop many imperfections, which the devil will
implant in you in other ways, in which case, as I have said,
you will not do the good that you might, either to yourselves
or to others.

You see that, with these two things—love and fear of God—
we can travel along this road in peace and quietness, and
not think at every step that we can see some pitfall, and
that we shall never reach our goal.[132]Yet we cannot be sure of reaching it,
so fear will always lead the way, and then we shall
not grow careless, for, as long as we live, we must never feel
completely safe or we shall be in great danger. And that was
our Teacher’s meaning when at the end of this prayer He said
these words to His Father, knowing how necessary they were:
”But deliver us from evil. Amen.”

The Way of Perfection

Chapter 42

Treats of these last words of the
Paternoster: “But deliver us
from evil. Amen.”

I think the good Jesus was right to ask this for Himself, for
we know how weary of this life He was when at the Supper He
said to His Apostles: “With desire I have desired to sup with
you”[133]—and that
was the last supper of His life. From this it can be seen how
weary He must have been of living; yet nowadays people are not
weary even at a hundred years old, but always want to live
longer. It is true, however, that we do not live so difficult
a life or suffer such trials or such poverty as His Majesty
had to bear. What was His whole life but a continuous death,
with the picture of the cruel death that He was to suffer
always before His eyes? And this was the least important
thing, with so many offenses being committed against His
Father and such a multitude of souls being lost. If to any
human being full of charity this is a great torment, what must
it have been to the boundless and measureless charity of the
Lord? And how right He was to beseech the Father to deliver
Him from so many evils and trials and to give Him rest for
ever in His Kingdom, of which He was the true heir.

By the word “Amen,” as it comes at the end of every prayer,
I understand that the Lord is begging that we may be delivered
from all evil for ever. It is useless, sisters, for us to
think that, for so long as we live, we can be free from
numerous temptations and imperfections and even sins; for
it is said that whosoever thinks himself to be without sin
deceives himself, and that is true. But if we try to banish
bodily ills and trials—and who is without very many and
various trials of such kinds?—is it not right that we
should ask to be delivered from sin?

Still, let us realize that what we are asking here—this
deliverance from all evil—seems an impossibility,
whether we are thinking of bodily ills, as I have said, or
of imperfections and faults in God’s service. I am
referring, not to the saints, who, as Saint Paul said, can
do all things in Christ[134]but to sinners like myself. When I find myself
trammelled by weakness, lukewarmness, lack of mortification
and many other things, I realize that I must beg for help
from the Lord.

You, daughters, must ask as you think best. Personally,
I shall find no redress in this life, so I ask the Lord to
deliver me from all evil “for ever.” What good thing shall
we find in this life, sisters, in which we are deprived of
our great Good and are absent from Him? Deliver me, Lord,
from this shadow of death; deliver me from all these
trials; deliver me from all these pains; deliver me from
all these changes, from all the formalities with which we
are forced to comply for as long as we live, from all the
many, many, many things which weary and depress me, and the
enumeration of all of which would weary the reader if
I were to repeat them. This life is unendurable. The source
of my own depression must be my own wicked life and the
realization that even now I am not living as I should, so
great are my obligations.

I beseech the Lord, then, to deliver me from all evil for
ever, since I cannot pay what I owe, and may perhaps run
farther into debt each day. And the hardest thing to bear,
Lord, is that I cannot know with any certainty if I love Thee
and if my desires are acceptable in Thy sight. O my God and
Lord, deliver me from all evil and be pleased to lead me to
that place where all good things are to be found. What can be
looked for on earth by those to whom Thou hast given some
knowledge of what the world is and those who have a living
faith in what the Eternal Father has laid up for them
because His Son asks it of Him and teaches us to ask Him
for it too?

When contemplatives ask for this with fervent desire and full
determination it is a very clear sign that their
contemplation is genuine and that the favours which
they receive in prayer are from God. Let those who have these
favours, [135]then, prize them highly. But if I myself make
this request it is not for that reason (I mean, it must not be
taken as being for that reason); it is because I am wearied by
so many trials and because my life has been so wicked that
I am afraid of living any longer. It is not surprising if
those who share in the favours of God should wish to pass to
a life where they no longer enjoy mere sips at them: being
already partakers in some knowledge of His greatness, they
would fain see it in its entirety. They have no desire to
remain where there are so many hindrances to the
enjoyment of so many blessings; nor that they should desire to
be where the Sun of justice never sets. Henceforward all the
things they see on earth seem dim to them and I wonder that
they can live for even an hour. No one can be content to do so
who has begun to enjoy such things, and has been given the
Kingdom of God on earth, and must live to do, not his own
will, but the will of the King.

Oh, far other must be that life in which we no longer desire
death! How differently shall we then incline our wills towards
the will of God! His will is for us to desire truth, whereas
we desire falsehood; His will is for us to desire the eternal,
whereas we prefer that which passes away; His will is for us
to desire great and sublime things, whereas we desire the base
things of earth; He would have us desire only what is certain,
whereas here on earth we love what is doubtful. What a mockery
it all is, my daughters, unless we beseech God to deliver us
from these perils for ever and to keep us from all evil! And
although our desire for this may not be perfect, let us strive
to make the petition. What does it cost us to ask it, since we
ask it of One Who is so powerful? It would be insulting
a great emperor to ask him for a farthing. Since we
have already given Him our will, let us leave the giving to
His will, so that we may be the more surely heard; and may His
name be for ever hallowed in the Heavens and on the earth and
may His will be ever done in me. Amen.

You see now, friends, what is meant by perfection in vocal
prayer, in which we consider and know to Whom the prayer is
being made, Who is making it and what is its object. When
you are told that it is not good for you to practise any
but vocal prayer, do not be discouraged, but read this with
great care and beg God to explain to you anything about
prayer which you cannot understand. For no one can deprive
you of vocal prayer or make you say the Paternoster
hurriedly, without understanding it. If anyone tries to do
so, or advises you to give up your prayer, take no notice
of him. You may be sure he is a false prophet; and in these
days, remember, you must not believe everyone, for, though
you may be told now that you have nothing to fear, you do
not know what is in store for you. I had intended, as well
as saying this, to talk to you a little about how you
should say the Ave Maria, but I have written at such length
that that will have to be left over. If you have learned
how to say the Paternoster well, you will know enough to
enable you to say all the other vocal prayers you may have
to recite.

Now let us go back and finish the journey which I have
been describing, for the Lord seems to have been saving me
labour by teaching both you and me the Way which
I began to outline to you and by showing me how much we ask
for when we repeat this evangelical prayer. May He be for ever
blessed, for it had certainly never entered my mind that there
were such great secrets in it. You have now seen that it
comprises the whole spiritual road, right from the beginning,
until God absorbs the soul and gives it to drink abundantly of
the fountain of living water which I told you was at the end
of the road. It seems, sisters, that the Lord’s will has been
to teach us what great consolation is comprised in it, and
this is a great advantage to those who cannot read. If they
understood this prayer, they could derive a great deal of
sound instruction from it and would find it a real comfort.
Our books may be taken from us, but this is a book which
no one can take away, and it comes from the lips of the
Truth Himself, Who cannot err.

As we repeat the Paternoster so many times daily, then, as
I have said, let us delight in it and strive to learn from
so excellent a Master the humility with which He prays, and
all the other things that have been described. May His
Majesty forgive me for having dared to speak of such
high matters. Well does His Majesty know that I should not
have ventured to do so, and that my understanding
would not have been capable of it, had He not taught me what
I have said. Give thanks to Him for this, sisters, for He must
have done it because of the humility with which you asked me
to write it for you in your desire to be instructed by one so
unworthy.

Well, sisters, Our Lord seems not to want me to write any
more, for, although I had intended to go on, I can think of
nothing to say. The Lord has shown you the road and has
taught me what I wrote in the book which, as I say, I have
already written.[136]This tells you how to conduct
yourselves on reaching this fount of living water and what
the soul experiences when there, and how God satiates it
and takes away its thirst for earthly things, and makes it
grow in things pertaining to God’s service. This will be
very helpful to those who have reached the fount, and will
give them a great deal of light.

Before you see this book I shall give it to my confessor,
Father Presentado Domingo Bañez of the Order of Saint
Dominic. If he thinks you will benefit by it, and
gives it you to read, and if you find it of any comfort, I,
too, shall be comforted. If he gives you this book, he
will give you the other[137]as well. Should
it be found unsuitable for anyone to read, you must take the
will for the deed, as I have obeyed your command by writing
it. [138]I consider myself well repaid for my labour in
writing, though it has certainly been no labour to me to think
about what I have been going to say, as the Lord has taught me
the secrets of this evangelical prayer, which has been a great
comfort to me. Blessed and praised be the Lord, from Whom
comes all the good that we speak and think and do. Amen.

The Way of Perfection

Footnotes

Cf. Vol. I, pp. 2-5,
above

See also the reference, in the
“General Argument” of the Valladolid redaction, to her
being Prioress of St. Joseph’s when the book was written.
Presumably the original draft is meant.

E.g., at
places where a chapter ends in E. but not in V.

One special case
of this class is the suppression in V. of one out of two
or three almost but not quite synonymous adjectives
referring to the same noun.

With few
exceptions, the footnotes to the Way of perfection
are the translators. Square brackets are therefore not used
to distinguish them from those of P. Silverio, as
elsewhere. Ordinary brackets, in the footnote translations,
are placed round words inserted to complete the
sense.

This
title, in St. Teresa’s hand, appears on the first page of
the Valladolid autograph (V.) which, as we have said in the
Introduction, is the basis of the text here used. The
Escorial autograph (E.) has the words “Treatise of the Way
of Perfection” in an unknown hand, followed by the
Prologue, in St. Teresa’s. The Toledo copy (T.) begins with
the Protestation.

These lines, also in St. Teresa’s hand, follow
the title in the Valladolid autograph. P. Bañez added, in
his own writing, the words: “I have seen this book and my
opinion of it is written at the end and signed with my
name.” Cf. ch. 42, below.

The words “Fray Domingo Bañes” are crossed
out, probably by P. Bañez himself. T. has: “from the Father
Master Fray Domingo Bañez, Professor at Salamanca.” Bañez
was appointed to a Chair at Salamanca University in
1577.

The pronoun
(quien) in the Spanish is singular, but in the
sixteenth century it could have plural force and the
context would favour this. A manuscript note in V., however
(not by P. Bañez, as the Paris Carmelites—
Oeuvres, V, 30—suggest), evidently takes the
reference to be to St. Gregory, for it says: “And he wrote
something on Job, and the Morals, importuned by
servants of God, and trusting in their prayers, as he
himself says.”

French Protestantism which had been repressed
during the reigns of Francis I and Henry II, increased
after the latter’s death in 1559, and was still doing so at
the time of the foundation of St. Joseph’s.

Lit.: “and
bad.”

Allá se lo hayan. “And serve
them right!” would, in most contexts, be a more exact
rendering of this colloquial phrase, but there is no
suspicion of Schadenfreude here.

An apparent
reference to St. Mark xiii, 31.

In the Spanish
the subject is in the singular: P. Bañez inserted “the
house”, but crossed this out later.

St. Teresa liked to have hermitages in the
grounds of her convents to give the nuns opportunity for
solitude.

Lit.: “making this corner.” The
reference is to St. Joseph’s, Ávila.

The italicized lines which follow, and are in
the nature of a digression, do not appear in V., and in E.
they have been crossed out.

Here follow two erased
lines which are illegible but for the words “Thou didst
honour the world”. The exact sense of the following
words (“We can . . . in secret”) is affected by these
illegible lines and must be considered
uncertain.

Lit.: “of those.” P. Bañez wrote in
the margin “of the mansions” using the word which is thus
translated in the titles of the seven main divisions of the
Interior Castle. T. has: “of the houses.”

Lit., “poor
little one.”

Lit.: “are
seldom ordered in such a way as.”

“Other” is not in the Spanish. “When they
are only between”, is the reading of T., which also omits:
“and become a pest.”

Here begins the passage reproduced in the
Appendix to Chapter 4, below.

Honra.

Lit.: “I beg her who is in the
position of a senior (mayor).” Mayor was
the title given to the superior at the Incarnation, Ávila,
and many other convents in Spain, at that time.

Lit.: “There remains, as
people say, no patience”; but, as the phrase “as people
say” (which E. omits) suggests that this was a popular
phrase, I have translated rather more freely and
picturesquely. T. has (after “ache too”): “and it upsets
us, and so on.”

Ternura.
Lit.: ’‘tenderness.”

Lit.: “My life!” “My soul!” “My
good!”

Lit.: de
darnos todas a Él todo: “giving ourselves wholly to
Him wholly.”

The thirteenth was St. Teresa.

De sus tierras. The phrase will
also bear the interpretation: “from their own
countries.”

The sense of this passage, especially
without the phrase from E. which V. omits, is not very
clear. T. remodels thus: “You know there is no worse thief
for the perfection of the soul than the love of ourselves,
for unless etc.”

Here, in the margin, is written: “Humility and
mortification, very great virtues.”

Lit.: “to contrive not to die.” But
the reading of E. (“to think that we came to the convent
for no other reason than to serve our bodies and look after
them”) suggests that this is what is meant.

Lit.:
“which can be suffered on foot.”

Lit.: “to
look at (or to) what is needful”—the phrase is ambiguous
and might mean: “to worry about their own needs.” The word
translated “people” is feminine.

Lit.: “awakens.”

Lit.:
“Do you know why, apart from other things?”

Lit.: “did
them to Him.”

Lit.: “to this college of
Christ.”

I.e., St. Joseph’s,
Ávila.

An
untranslatable play upon words: corto y no muy
cortado—as though “sharpened” could be used in
the sense of “refined”.

Proverbs xxiv, 16.

Chess was very much in vogue in the Spain of
St. Teresa’s day and it was only in 1561 that its great
exponent Ruy López de Segura had published his celebrated
treatise, in Spanish, entitled “Book of the liberal
invention and art of the game of chess”.

Lit.: “the great virtues.” In V. St.
Teresa originally began this sentence thus: “In the last
chapter I said that the King of glory, etc.,” and ended it:
“to gain the virtues which I there described as great.”
Later she altered it to read as above.

Lit.: “out of his
hands”, but the meaning, made more explicit in V., is
evident. On the doctrinal question involved in this
paragraph, see Introduction, above. P. Silverio (III,
75-6), has a more extensive note on the subject than can be
given here and cites a number of Spanish authorities, from
P. Juan de Jesús María (Theologia Mystica, Chap.
III) to P. Seisdedos Sanz (Principios fundamentales de
la mística, Madrid, 1913, II, 61-77.)

Lit.: “and
tenderness.”

Lit.: “low”, contrasting with “high”
at the end of the sentence.

Acts x,
34.

St. Luke xiv,
10.

Lit.: “These
others.”

Lit.: “would give them nothing”, but
the reference seems to be to payment.

Lit.: “very, very certain”—
a typically Teresan repetition.

Lit.: “who is
such.”

Lit.: “so many
days.”

Lit.: “It will have
to go as it comes out.”

St Teresa is probably
referring to the treatises of Luis de Granada and St. Peter
of Alcántara (S.S.M, 1, 40-52, II, 106-20). Cf.
Constitutions (Vol. III, p. 236,
below).

Lit.: “of his doing
something on (the horse) which is not
graceful.”

St. John iv, 13.

Lit.: “But this one—
no, no.”

The author probably refers to herself: Cf.
Life, Chapter XX, and Relations,
passim.

Lit.: “drowned.”

Lit.: “We eat it without
measure.”

Lit.: “to cut the thread.”

Presumably a reminiscence of Romans vii, 24 or
Philippians i, 23.

This, too, is
generally taken as referring to St. Teresa
herself.

Cassian:
Conferences, II. v.

E. ends the chapter here. This
final paragraph appears to be based upon St. John vii,
37.

There is
a reference here to St. John xiv, 2.

St. John vii, 37.

Lit.: “these are they who are,
etc.”

Cuenta de perdones: a bead larger in
size than the remainder in the rosary and carrying special
indulgences for the souls in purgatory.

Lit.: “of beginning so great
a good.”

Lit.: “save
in God”—i.e., save as those whose life is centred in
God: not necessarily, I think, only of
God.

“Do not be surprised, daughters, for this is
the royal road (camino real) to Heaven.” A more
idiomatic translation of camino real would be
“king’s highway”.

Lit.:
“determined determination”: this doubling of words is not
uncommon in St. Teresa.

Lit.:
“are such ingenious geniuses.”

V.: alguna
consideración: the use of the singular form in
a plural sense, with the shade of meaning which might be
conveyed by “some occasional thoughts,” is common in
Spanish. E. uses one of St. Teresa’s characteristic
diminutives (see Vol. 1, p. xxi) alguna
consideracioncita—“some (occasional) trifling
thoughts.”

This is
generally taken as referring to St. Teresa’s visit to
Doña Luisa de la Cerda in 1562.

Lit.: “to call
her ‘Honour.” The point of this delightfully unaffected
reminiscence, omitted in V. and inserted here rather for
its attractiveness than for its artistic
appropriateness, is that “Your Honour” (Vuestra
Merced: now abbreviated to Vd. and used as the
third personal pronoun of ordinary polite address) was
an expression merely of respect and not of rank: the
Saint often uses it, for example, in addressing her
confessors. It was as though a peer of the realm were to
say “Just call me ‘Sir.”

For “fears” the original has “things”; but
that seems to be the meaning.

Lit.: “a thing”.

Lit.: “a Beauty . . .  itself”, as though
referring to obras: “works.”

Lit.: “Yes, approach God, and, in
approaching, try.”

The words “think about our Spouse” appear in
no manuscript but were added by Luis de León.

Este cuidadito: lit., “this little
attentiveness”—another characteristic
diminuitive.

Lit.: “a nothing at all” (una
nonada).

No es nada
delicado mi Dios. “Fastidious” might be nearer to
the characteristically bold adjective of the
original.

St. Luke xi,
9.

Lit.: “the good.”

The word rendered “discuss”, both here and
below, is a strong one, entrometerse, to
intermeddle.

More
literally: “consider”, “reflect”.

Lit.: “and that His greatness is
addressing her.”

algarabía. Lit.: “Arabic” and hence
“gibberish,” “jargon.”

A vague reminiscence of some
phrase from Canticles: perhaps ii, 14, 16, v, 2, or vi,
12.

Lit.: “With what
majesty!”

Psalm xxxvi (A.V., xxxvii,
25).

Psalm xxxiii 20-1 (A.V., xxxiv,
19-20).

Lit. “when they deflect the soul in
any way from going within itself.”

Lit.: “see.”

Lit.: “once we begin to
be glad.”

Lit.: “of recollection
within me.”

The allusion is, of course, to St.
Luke ii, 25 (“just and devout”), 29.

Moradas.
The “three tabernacles” of St. Matthew xvii, 4.

In the margin of T. the author adds, in her
own hand, that this contemplative was St. Francis Borgia,
Duke of Gandía. No doubt, then, the other person referred
to was St. Teresa herself. The addition reads: “who was
a religious of the Company of Jesus, who had been Duke of
Gandía,” and to this are added some words, also in St.
Teresa’s hand, but partially scored out and partially cut
by the binder, which seem to be: “who knew it well by
experience.”

St. Luke xviii, 13. St. Teresa apparently
forgot that the publican “would not so much as lift his
eyes towards heaven”.

Lit.:
“and drawn along with it”; the same phrase is found at the
end of the preceding paragraph.

Lit. “let the milk fall out of its
mouth.”

Algarabía. Cf. n. 96
above.

Lit.: “neither the one
nor the other will gain.”

Lit.
“given it.”

Lit.:
“should want as much for himself as for his neighbour,
and for his neighbour as for himself.” The
italicized phrase is found in E. only.

Lit.: “each day, each day.”

This, as will be observed
from the title to this chapter, is the order of the words
in the Latin.

Lit.: “in service”—en
servidumbre, a strong word, better rendered,
perhaps, “servitude,” and not far removed from
“slavery.”

The whole of
this paragraph is lightly crossed out in the
manuscript.

Lit.: “as if by (someone’s) hand.”
St. Teresa is thought here to be referring to
herself.

Lit.: “and have him within
itself with love.”

The
sense of the verb here rendered “cause the loss of” is
vague. Literally the phrase reads: “so many priests are
lost.”

St. Matthew viii, 25.

Lit.: “ill-treated.” The
same verb is used in the following sentence.

Lit.: “our Honourer”—Honrador
nuestro: a rather unusual phrase which T. changes
into the quite conventional honrado Maestro—“honoured
Master.”

St. Teresa left this sentence uncompleted.
Luis de León added: “You need not . . . prayer” in his
edition, since when it has always been included. It figures
as an anonymous correction in T.

Lit.: “He left it
thus confused.” Here follows in E., in place of the rest of
this paragraph, a passage which interrupts the trend of the
thought, and therefore, in the text above, is printed in
italics and in brackets at the end of this
paragraph.

The words
“though . . . forgive” are crossed out in the
manuscript, as is the following sentence “May He
. . . before Him.”

Lit.: “gains”, as also in the next
paragraph. E. has: “because they have hopes of becoming
rich.” The reference in both manuscripts is, of course, to
the spoils and booty of war.

It will be noticed that this paragraph is
similar to the last paragraph in the text of V. (p. 254,
above). The differences, however, are so wide that each
of the two is given as it stands.

Lit.: “these treasons.”

Lit.:
“these two virtues, so great, so great.”

Lit.: “to an inn for ever,
ever, for eternity.” The repetition of “ever”
(siempre) reminds one of the famous reminiscence
of St. Teresa’s childhood, to be found in her
Life, Chap. I.

Lit.: “the infernal
slaves.”

Or
“for if we do this we shall never reach our
goal.”

St. Luke xxii, 15.

Philippians iv,
13.

Lit.: “Let those who are
so.”

The
Life.

The
Life. I do not know what reason St. Teresa had
to suppose this, but the Spanish of E. (“tambi}n os dará
el otro”) is quite definite.

Lit.: “you will take my will,
as I have obeyed your command with the work” i.e. in
deed.

The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, of The Order of Our Lady of Carmel

Table of Contents

1. Introduction

2. St. Teresa's Arguments of the Chapters

3. Preface by David Lewis

4. Annals of the Saint's Life

5. The Life

1. Prologue

2. Chapter I

3. Chapter II

4. Chapter III

5. Chapter IV

6. Chapter V

7. Chapter VI

8. Chapter VII

9. Chapter VIII

10. Chapter IX

11. Chapter X

12. Chapter XI

13. Chapter XII

14. Chapter XIII

15. Chapter XIV

16. Chapter XV

17. Chapter XVI

18. Chapter XVII

19. Chapter XVIII

20. Chapter XIX

21. Chapter XX

22. Chapter XXI

23. Chapter XXII

24. Chapter XXIII

25. Chapter XXIV

26. Chapter XXV

27. Chapter XXVI

28. Chapter XXVII

29. Chapter XXVIII

30. Chapter XXIX

31. Chapter XXX

32. Chapter XXXI

33. Chapter XXXII

34. Chapter XXXIII

35. Chapter XXXIV

36. Chapter XXXV

37. Chapter XXXVI

38. Chapter XXXVII

39. Chapter XXXVIII

40. Chapter XXXIX

41. Chapter XL

6. The Relations or Manifestations

1. Relation I

2. Relation II

3. Relation III

4. Relation IV

5. Relation V

6. Relation VI

7. Relation VII

8. Relation VIII

9. Relation IX

10. Relation X

11. Relation XI

The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, of The Order of Our Lady of Carmel

Introduction

When the publisher entrusted me with the task of editing this
volume, one sheet was already printed and a considerable portion of
the book was in type. Under his agreement with the owners of the
copyright, he was bound to reproduce the text and notes, etc.,
originally prepared by Mr. David Lewis without any change, so that my
duty was confined to reading the proofs and verifying the quotations.
This translation of the Life of St. Teresa is so excellent, that it could hardly
be improved. While faithfully adhering to her wording, the translator
has been successful in rendering the lofty teaching in simple and
clear language, an achievement all the more remarkable as in addition
to the difficulty arising from the transcendental nature of the
subject matter, the involved style, and the total absence of
punctuation tend to perplex the reader. Now and then there might be
some difference of opinion as to how St. Teresa's phrases should be construed, but it
is not too much to say that on the whole Mr. Lewis has been more
successful than any other translator, whether English or foreign. Only
in one case have I found it necessary to make some slight alteration
in the text, and I trust the owners of the copyright will forgive me
for doing so. In Chapter XXV., Â§ 4, St. Teresa, speaking of the difference between
the Divine and the imaginary locutions, says that a person commending
a matter to God with great earnestness, may think that he hears
whether his prayer will be granted or not: y es muy
posible, "and this is quite possible," but he who has ever
heard a Divine locution will see at once that this assurance is
something quite different. Mr. Lewis, following the old Spanish
editions, translated "And it is most impossible,"
whereas both the autograph and the context demand the wording I have
ventured to substitute.

When Mr. Lewis undertook the translation of St. Teresa's works, he had before him Don Vicente
de la Fuente's edition (Madrid, 1861â€“1862), supposed to be a faithful
transcript of the original. In 1873 the Sociedad
Foto-Tipografica-Catolica of Madrid published a photographic
reproduction of the Saint's autograph in 412 pages in folio, which
establishes the true text once for all. Don Vicente prepared a
transcript of this, in which he wisely adopted the modern way of
spelling but otherwise preserved the original text, or at least
pretended to do so, for a minute comparison between autograph and

transcript reveals the startling fact that nearly a thousand
inaccuracies have been allowed to creep in. Most of these variants
are immaterial, but there are some which ought not to have been
overlooked. Thus, in Chapter XVIII. Â§
20, St. Teresa's words are: Un gran letrado de la orden del glorioso santo Domingo,
while Don Vicente retains the old reading De la orden del
glorioso patriarca santo Domingo. Mr. Lewis possessed a copy of
this photographic reproduction, but utilised it only in one instance
in his second edition.[1]

The publication of the autograph has settled a point of some
importance. The Bollandists (n. 1520), discussing the question
whether the headings of the chapters (appended
to this Introduction) are by St. Teresa
or a later addition, come to the conclusion (against the authors of
the Reforma de los DescalÃ§os) that they are
clearly an interpolation (clarissime patet) on
account of the praise of the doctrine contained in these arguments.
Notwithstanding their high authority the Bollandists are in this
respect perfectly wrong, the arguments are entirely in St. Teresa's own hand and are exclusively her own
work. The Book of Foundations and the Way of Perfection contain
similar arguments in the Saint's handwriting. Nor need any surprise
be felt at the alleged praise of her doctrine for by saying: this
chapter is most noteworthy (Chap. XIV.),
or: this is good doctrine (Chap. XXI.),
etc., she takes no credit for herself because she never grows tired of
repeating that she only delivers the message she has received from our
Lord.[2] The Bollandists, not having seen the
original, may be excused, but P. Bouix (whom Mr. Lewis follows in this
matter) had no right to suppress these arguments. It is to be hoped
that future editions of the works of S.
Teresa will not again deprive the reader of this remarkable feature of
her writings. What she herself thought of her books is best told by
Yepes in a letter to Father Luis de Leon, the first editor of her
works: "She was pleased when her writings were being praised and
her Order and the convents were held in esteem. Speaking one day of
the Way of Perfection, she rejoiced to hear it praised,
and said to me with great content: Some grave men tell me that it is
like Holy Scripture. For being revealed doctrine it seemed to her
that praising her book was like
praising God."[3]

A notable feature in Mr. Lewis's translation is his division of the
chapters into short paragraphs. But it appears that he rearranged the
division during the process of printing, with the result that a large
number of references were wrong. No labour has been spared in the
correction of these, and I trust that the present edition will be the
more useful for it. In quoting the Way of Perfection and
the Interior Castle (which he calls Inner
Fortress!) Mr. Lewis refers to similar paragraphs which,
however, are to be

found in no English edition. A new translation of these two works
is greatly needed, and, in the case of the Way of
Perfection, the manuscript of the Escurial should be consulted
as well as that of Valladolid. Where the writings of S. John of the Cross are quoted by volume and
page, the edition referred to is the one of 1864, another of Mr.
Lewis's masterpieces. The chapters in Ribera's Life of St. Teresa refer to the edition in the Acts of
the Saint by the Bollandists. These and all other quotations have
been carefully verified, with the exception of those taken from the
works on Mystical theology by Antonius a Spiritu Sancto and Franciscus
a S. Thoma, which I was unable to consult. I should have wished to
replace the quotations from antiquated editions of the Letters of our
Saint by references to the new French edition by P. GrÃ©goire de S. Joseph (Paris, Poussielgue, 1900), which may
be considered as the standard edition.

In note 2 to Chap. XI. Mr. Lewis draws attention to a
passage in a sermon by S. Bernard
containing an allusion to different ways of watering a garden similar
to St. Teresa's well-known comparison. Mr.
Lewis's quotation is incorrect, and I am not certain what sermon he
may have had in view. Something to the point may be found in sermon 22
on the Canticle (Migne, P.
L. Vol. CLXXXIII, p. 879), and in the first sermon on the
Nativity of our Lord (ibid., p. 115), and also in a sermon on the
Canticle by one of St. Bernard's disciples
(Vol. CLXXXIV., p. 195). I am indebted to the Very Rev. Prior Vincent McNabb, O.P., for the
verification of a quotation from St. Vincent Ferrer
(Chap. XX. Â§ 31).

Since the publication of Mr. Lewis's translation the uncertainty
about the date of St. Teresa's profession
has been cleared up. Yepes, the Bollandists, P. Bouix, Don Vicente de
la Fuente, Mr. Lewis, and numerous other writers assume that she
entered the convent of the Incarnation[4] on
November 2nd, 1533, and made her profession on November 3rd, 1534. The
remaining dates of events previous to her conversion are based upon
this, as will he seen from the chronology printed by Mr. Lewis at the
end of his Preface and frequently referred to in the footnotes. It
rests, however, on inadequate evidence, namely on a single passage in
the Life[5] where the Saint says that she was
not yet twenty years old when she made her first supernatural
experience in prayer. She was twenty in March, 1535, and as this
event took place after her profession, the latter was supposed by
Yepes and his followers to have taken place in the previous November.
Even if we had no further evidence,

the fact that St. Teresa is not always
reliable in her calculation should have warned us not to rely too much
upon a somewhat casual statement. In the first chapter, Â§ 7, she positively asserts
that she was rather less than twelve years old at the death of her
mother, whereas we know that she was at least thirteen years and eight
months old. As to the profession we have overwhelming evidence that
it took place on the 3rd of November, 1536, and her entrance in the
convent a year and a day earlier. To begin with, we have the positive
statement of her most intimate friends, Julian d'Avila, Father Ribera,
S.J., and Father Jerome Gratian. Likewise doÃ±a Maria Pinel, nun of the
Incarnation, says in her deposition: "She (Teresa of Jesus) took
the habit on 2 November, 1535."[6] This
is corroborated by various passages in the Saint's writings. Thus, in
Relation VII., written in 1575, she
says, speaking of herself: "This nun took the habit forty years
ago." Again in a passage of the Life written about
the end of 1564 or the beginning of the following
year,[7] she mentions that she has been a nun
for over twenty-eight years, which points to her profession in 1536.
But there are two documents which place the date of profession beyond
dispute, namely the act of renunciation of her right to the paternal
inheritance and the deed of dowry drawn up before a public notary.
Both bear the date 31 October, 1536. The authors of the Reforma de los DescalÃ§os thought that they must have
been drawn up before St. Teresa took the
habit, and therefore placed this event in 1536 and the profession in
1537, but neither of these documents is necessarily connected with the
clothing, yet both must have been completed before profession. The
Constitutions of Blessed John Soreth, drawn up in 1462, which were
observed at the convent of the Incarnation, contain the following rule
with regard to the reception and training of
novices:[8] Consulimus quod
recipiendus ante susceptionem habitus expediat se de omnibus quae
habet

in saeculo nisi ex causa rationabili per priorem
generalem vel provincialem fuerit aliter ordinatum. There was,
indeed, good reason in the case of St.
Teresa to postpone these legal matters. Her father was much opposed to
her becoming a nun, but considering his piety it might have been
expected that before the end of the year of probation he would grant
his consent (which in the event he did the very day she took the
habit), and make arrangements for the dowry. One little detail
concerning her haste in entering the convent has been preserved by the
Reforma and the
Bollandists,[9] though neither
seem to have understood its meaning. On leaving the convent of the
Incarnation for St. Joseph's in 1563, St. Teresa handed the prioress of the former
convent a receipt for her bedding, habit and discipline. This almost
ludicrous scrupulosity was in conformity with a decision of the
general chapter of 1342 which said: Ingrediens ordinem ad
sui ipsius instantiam habeat lectisternia pro se ipso, sin autem
recipiens solvat lectum illum. As St.
Teresa entered the convent without the knowledge of her father she did
not bring this insignificant trousseau with her; accordingly the
prioress became responsible for it and obtained a receipt when St. Teresa went to the new convent. The dowry
granted by Alphonso Sanchez de Cepeda to his daughter consisted of
twenty-five measures, partly wheat, partly barley, or, in lieu
thereof, two hundred ducats per annum. Few among the numerous nuns of
the Incarnation could have brought a better or even an
equal dowry.

The date of St. Teresa's profession
being thus fixed on the 3rd of November, 1536, some other dates of the
chronology must be revised. Her visit to Castellanos de la CaÃ±ada
must have taken place in the early part of 1537. But already before
this time the Saint had an experience which should have proved a
warning to her, and the neglect of which she never ceased to deplore,
namely the vision of our
Lord;[10] her own
words are that this event took place "at the very beginning of her
acquaintance with the person" who exercised so dangerous an
influence upon her. Mr. Lewis assigns to it the date 1542, which is
impossible seeing that instead of twenty-six it was only twenty-two
years before she wrote that passage of her life. Moreover, it would
have fallen into the midst of her lukewarmness (according to Mr.
Lewis's chronology) instead of the very beginning. P. Bouix rightly
assigns it to the year 1537, but as he is two years in advance of our
chronology it does not agree with the

surrounding circumstances as described by him. Bearing in mind the
hint St. Teresa
gives[11] as to her disposition immediately
after her profession, we need not be surprised if the first roots of
her lukewarmness show themselves so soon.

From Castellanos she proceeded to Hortigosa on a visit to her
uncle. While there she became acquainted with the book called Tercer Abecedario. Don Vicente remarks that the
earliest edition known to him was printed in 1537, which tells
strongly against the chronology of the Bollandists, P. Bouix, and
others. Again, speaking of her cure at Bezadas she gives a valuable
hint by saying that she remained blind to certain dangers for more
than seventeen years until the Jesuit fathers finally undeceived her.
As these came to Avila in 1555 the seventeen years lead us back to
1538, which precisely coincides with her sojourn at Bezadas. She
remained there until Pascua florida of the following
year. P. Bouix and others understand by this term Palm Sunday, but
Don Vicente shows good reason that Easter Sunday is meant, which in
1539 was April the 6th. She then returned to Avila, more dead than
alive, and remained seriously ill for nearly three years, until she
was cured through the miraculous intervention of St. Joseph about the beginning of 1542. Now
began the period of lukewarmness which was temporally interrupted by
the illness and death of her father, in 1544 or 1545, and came to an
end about 1555. Don Vicente, followed
by Mr. Lewis, draws attention to what he believes to be a
"proof of great laxity of the convent," that St. Teresa should have been urged by one of her
confessors to communicate as often as once a fortnight. It should be
understood that frequent communion such as we now see it practised was
wholly unknown in her time. The Constitutions of the Order specified
twelve days on which all those that were not priests should
communicate, adding: Verumtamen fratres professi prout
Deus eis devotionem contulerit diebus dominicis et festis
duplicibus (i.e., on feasts of our Lady, the Apostles,
etc.), communicare poterunt si qui velint. Thus,
communicating about once a month St. Teresa
acted as ordinary good Religious were wont to do, and by approaching
the sacrament more frequently she placed herself among the more
fervent nuns.[12]

St. Teresa wrote quite a number of
different accounts of her life. The first, addressed to Father Juan
de Padranos, S.J.[13] and dated 1557, is now
lost. The second, written for St. Peter of
Alcantara, is Relation I. at the end of this volume; a copy of it,
together with a continuation (Relation II.) was sent to Father Pedro
IbaÃ±ez in 1562. It is somewhat difficult to admit that in the very
same year she wrote another, more extensive, account to the same
priest, which is generally called the "first" Life. At the
end of the Life such as we have it now, St. Teresa wrote: "This book was finished

in June, 1562," and Father BaÃ±ez wrote underneath: "This
date refers to the first account which the Holy Mother Teresa of Jesus
wrote of her life; it was not then divided into chapters. Afterwards
she made this copy and inserted in it many things which had taken
place subsequent to this date, such as the foundation of the monastery
of St. Joseph of Avila." Elsewhere
Father BaÃ±ez says:[14] "Of one of her
books, namely, the one in which she recorded her life and the manner
of prayer whereby God had led her, I can say that she composed it to
the end that her confessors might know her the better and instruct
her, and also that it might encourage and animate those who learn from
it the great mercy God had shown her, a great sinner as she humbly
acknowledged herself to be. This book was already written when I made
her acquaintance, her previous confessors having given her permission
to that effect. Among these was a licentiate of the Dominican Order,
the Reverend Father Pedro IbaÃ±ez, reader of Divinity at Avila. She
afterwards completed and recast this book." These two passages of
BaÃ±ez have led the biographers of the Saint to think that she wrote
her Life twice, first in 1561 and the following year,
completing it in the house of DoÃ±a Luisa de la Cerda at Toledo, in the
month of June; and secondly between 1563 and 1565 at St. Joseph's Convent of Avila. They have been at
pains to point out a number of places which could not have been in the
"first" Life, but must have been added in the second[15]; and they took it for granted that the
letter with which the book as we now have it concludes, was addressed
to Father IbaÃ±ez in 1562, when the Saint sent him the "first"
Life. It bears neither address nor date, but from its contents I am
bound to conclude that it was written in 1565, that it refers to the
"second" Life, and that whomsoever it was addressed to, it
cannot have been to Father IbaÃ±ez, who was already dead at the
time.[16] Saint Teresa asks the writer to
send a copy of the book to Father Juan de Avila. Now we know from her
letters that as late as 1568 this request had not been complied with,
and that St. Teresa had to write twice to
DoÃ±a Luisa for this
purpose;[17] but if she
had already given these instructions in 1562, it is altogether
incomprehensible that she did not see to it earlier, especially when
the "first" Life was returned to her for the purpose of
copying and completing it. The second reason which prevents me from
considering this letter as connected with the "first" Life
will be examined when I come to speak of the different ends the
Saint had

in view when writing her Life. It is more difficult to say to whom
the letter was really addressed. The Reforma
suggests Father Garcia de Toledo, Dominican, who bade the Saint write
the history of the foundation of St. Joseph's at
Avila[18] and who was her confessor at that
convent. It moreover believes that he it is to whom Chapter XXXIV. Â§Â§ 8â€“20 refers, and this
opinion appears to me plausible. As to the latter point, Yepes thinks
the Dominican at Toledo was Father Vicente Barron, the Bollandists
offer no opinion, and Mr. Lewis, in his first edition gives first the
one and then the other. If, as I think, Father Garcia was meant, the
passage in Chapter XVI. Â§ 10,
beginning "O, my son," would concern him also, as well as
several passages where Vuestra Mercedâ€”you, my
Fatherâ€”is addressed. For although the book came finally into the
hands of Father BaÃ±ez, it was first delivered into those of the
addressee of the letter.

Whether the previous paper was a mere "Relation," or really
a first attempt at a
"Life,"[19]
there can be no dispute about its purpose: St. Teresa speaks of it in the following terms:
"I had recourse to my Dominican father (IbaÃ±ez); I told him all
about my visions, my way of prayer, the great graces our Lord had
given me, as clearly as I could, and begged him to consider the matter
well, and tell me if there was anything therein at variance with the
Holy Writings, and give me his opinion on the whole
matter."[20] The account thus rendered
had the object of enabling Father IbaÃ±ez to give her light upon the
state of her soul. But while she was drawing it up, a great change
came over her. During St. Teresa's sojourn
at Toledo she became from a pupil an experienced master in Mystical
knowledge. "When I was there a religious" (probably Father
Garcia de Toledo) "with whom I had conversed occasionally some
years ago, happened to arrive. When I was at Mass in a monastery of
his Order, I felt a longing to know the state of his
soul."[21] Three times the Saint rose
from her seat, three times she sat down again, but at last she went to
see him in a confessional, not to ask for any light for herself, but
to give him what light she could, for she wished to induce him to
surrender himself more perfectly to God, and this she accomplished by
telling him how she had fared since their last meeting. No one who
reads this remarkable chapter can help being struck by the change that
has come over Teresa: the period of her schooling is at an end, and
she is now the great teacher of Mystical theology. Her humility does
not allow her to speak with the same degree of openness upon her
achievements as she did when

making known her failings, yet she cannot conceal the Gift of
Wisdom she had received and the use she made of it.

St. Teresa's development, if
extraordinary considering the degree of spirituality she reached, was
nevertheless gradual and regular. With her wonderful power of
analysis, she has given us not only a clear insight into her interior
progress, but also a sketch of the development of her understanding of
supernatural things. "It is now (i.e., about the end of
1563) some five or six years, I believe, since our Lord raised me to
this state of prayer, in its fulness, and that more than once,â€”and I
never understood it, and never could explain it; and so I was
resolved, when I should come thus far in my story, to say very little
or nothing at
all."[22] In the following
chapter she adds: "You, my father, will be delighted greatly to
find an account of the matter in writing, and to understand it; for it
is one grace that our Lord gives grace; and it is another grace to
understand what grace and what gift it is; and it is another and
further grace to have the power to describe and explain it to others.
Though it does not seem that more than the first of theseâ€”the giving
of graceâ€”is necessary, it is a great advantage and a great grace to
understand it."[23] These words contain
the clue to much that otherwise would be obscure in the life of our
Saint: great graces were bestowed upon her, but at first she neither
understood them herself nor was she able to describe them. Hence the
inability of her confessors and spiritual advisers to guide her. Her
natural gifts, great though they were, did not help her much.
"Though you, my father, may think that I have a quick
understanding, it is not so; for I have found out in many ways that my
understanding can take in only, as they say, what is given it to eat.
Sometimes my confessor used to be amazed at my ignorance: and he never
explained to meâ€”nor, indeed, did I desire to understandâ€”how God did
this, nor how it could be. Nor did I ever
ask."[24] At first she was simply
bewildered by the favours shown her, afterwards she could not help
knowing, despite the fears of over anxious friends, that they did come
from God, and that so far from imperilling her soul made a different
woman of her, but even then she was not able to explain to others what
she experienced in herself. But shortly before the foundation of
St. Joseph's convent she received the last
of the three graces mentioned above, the Gift of Wisdom, and the scene
at Toledo is the first manifestation of it.

This explains the difference of the "Life" such as we know
it from the first version or the "Relations" preceding it.
Whatever this writing was, it still belonged to the period of her
spiritual education, whereas the volume before us is the first-fruit
of her spiritual Mastership. The new light that had come to her
induced her confessors[25] to demand a
detailed work embodying everything

she had learned from her heavenly
Teacher.[26] The treatise on Mystical
theology contained in Chapters X. to XXI., the investigation of Divine
locutions, Visions and Revelations in the concluding portion of the
work could have had no place in any previous writing. While her
experiences before she obtained the Gift of Wisdom influenced but
three persons (one of them being her father), a great many profited by
her increased
knowledge.[27] The earlier
writings were but confidential communications to her confessors, and
if they became known to larger circles this was due to indiscretion.
But her "Life" was written from the beginning with a view to
publication. Allusions to this object may be found in various
places[28] as well as in the letter appended
to the book,[29] but the decisive utterances
must be sought for elsewhere, namely in the "Way of
Perfection." This work was written immediately after the
"Life," while the Saint was as yet at the convent of St. Joseph's. It was re-written later on and is
now only known in its final shape, but the first version, the original
of which is preserved at the Escurial and has been reproduced
photographically, leaves no doubt as to the intentions of St. Teresa in writing her "Life." "I
have written a few days ago a certain Relation of my Life. But since
it might happen that my confessor may not permit you (the Sisters of
St. Joseph's) to read it, I will put here
some things concerning prayer which are conformable to what I have
said there, as well as some other things which appear to me to be
necessary."[30] Again: "As all this
is better explained in the book which I say I have written, there is
no need for me to speak of it with so much detail. I have said there
all I know. Those of you who have been led by God to this degree of
contemplation (and I say that some have been led so far), should
procure the book because it is important for you, after

I am dead."[31] At the end she
writes: "Since the Lord has taught you the way and has inspired me
as to what I should put in the book which I say has been written, how
they should behave who have arrived at this fountain of living water
and what the soul feels there, and how God satiates her and makes her
lose the thirst for things of this world and causes her to grow in
things pertaining to the service of God; that book, therefore, will be
of great help for those who have arrived at this state, and will give
them much light. Procure it. For Father Domingo BaÃ±ez, presentado of the Order of St. Dominic who, as I say, is my confessor, and
to whom I shall give this, has it: if he judges that you should see
this, and gives it to you, he will also give you the
other."[32] While the first and second of
these quotations may be found, somewhat weakened, in the final version
of the "Way of Perfection," the last one is entirely omitted.
Nor need this surprise us, for Father BaÃ±ez had his own ideas about
the advisability of the publication of the "Life." In his
deposition, already referred to, he says: "It was not convenient
that this book should become public during her lifetime, but rather
that it should be kept at the Holy Office (the Inquisition) until we
knew the end of this person; it was therefore quite against my will
that some copies were taken while it was in the hands of the bishop
Don Alvaro Mendoza, who, being a powerful prelate and having received
it from the said Teresa of Jesus, allowed it to be copied and showed
it to his sister, doÃ±a Maria de Mendoza; thus certain persons taking
an interest in spiritual matters and knowing already some portions of
this treatise (evidently the contents of the divulged Relations) made
further copies, one of which became the property of the Duchess of
Alba, doÃ±a Maria Enriquez, and is now, I think, in the hands of her
daughter-in-law, doÃ±a Maria de Toledo. All this was against my wish,
and I was much annoyed with the said Teresa of Jesus, though I knew
well it was not her fault but the fault of those to whom she had
confided the book, and I told her she ought to burn the original
because it would never do that the writings of women should become
public property; to which she answered she was quite aware of it and
would certainly burn it if I told her to do so; but knowing her great
humility and obedience I did not dare to have it destroyed but handed
it to the Holy Office for safe-keeping, whence it has been withdrawn
since her death and published in
print."[33] From this it will he seen
that BaÃ±ez, who had given a most favourable opinion when the
"Life" was denounced to the Inquisition (1574), resulting in
the approbation by Cardinal de Quiroga to the great joy of St. Teresa,[34] returned
it to

the Holy Office for safety's sake. It was withdrawn by the Ven. Mother Anne of Jesus when the Order had
decided upon the publication of the works of the Saint, but too late
to be utilised then. Father Luis de Leon, the editor, had to content
himself with the copy already alluded to.

St. Teresa wrote her "Life"
slowly. It was begun in spring,
1563,[35] and
completed in May or June, 1565. She complains that she can only work
at it by stealth on account of her duties at the
distaff;[36] but the book is written with so
much order and method, the manuscript is so free from mistakes,
corrections and erasures, that we may conclude that while spinning she
worked it out in her mind, so that the apparent delay proved most
advantageous. In this respect the "Life" is superior to the
first version of the "Way of Perfection." This latter work
was printed during her lifetime, though it appeared only after her
death. In 1586 the Definitory of the province of Discalced Carmelites
decided upon the publication of the complete works of the Saint, but
for obvious reasons deemed not only the members of her own Order but
also Dominicans and Jesuits ineligible for the post of editor. Such
of the manuscripts as could be found were therefore confided to the
Augustinian Father, Luis de Leon, professor at Salamanca, who prepared
the edition but did not live to carry it through the press. The fact
that he did not know the autograph of the "Life" accounts for
the numerous inaccuracies to be found in nearly all editions, but the
publication of the original should ensure a great improvement for
the future.

St. Teresa's canonisation took place
before the stringent laws of Urban VIII. came into force.
Consequently, the writings of the Saint were not then enquired into,
the Holy See contenting itself with the approbations granted by the
Spanish Inquisition, and by the congregation of the Rota in Rome. A
certain number of passages selected from various works having been
denounced by some Roman theologians as being contrary to the teaching
of St. Thomas Aquinas and other
authorities, Diego Alvarez, a Dominican, and John Rada, a Franciscan,
were commissioned to examine the matter and report on it. The twelve
censures with the answers of the two theologians and the final
judgment of the Rota seem to have remained unknown to the
Bollandists.[37] The "heavenly
doctrine" of St. Teresa is alluded to
not only in the Bull of canonisation but even in the Collect of the
Mass of the Saint.

Concerning the English translations of the "Life" noticed
by Mr. Lewis it should be mentioned that the one ascribed to Abraham
Woodhead is only partly his work. Father Bede of St. Simon Stock (Walter Joseph Travers), a
Discalced Carmelite, labouring on the English Mission from 1660 till
1692, was anxious to complete the translation of St. Teresa's works into English. He had not
proceeded very far when he learnt that "others were engaged in the
same task. On enquiry he found that a new translation was
contemplated by two graduates of the University of Cambridge, converts
to the Faith, most learned and pious men, who were leading a solitary
life, spending their time and talents in the composition of
controversial and devotional works for the good of their neighbour and
the glory of God." One of these two men was Woodhead, who,
however, was an Oxford man, but the name of the other, who must have
been a Cambridge man, is not known. They undertook the translation
while Father Bede provided the funds and bore the risks of what was
then a dangerous work. As there existed already two English
translations of the "Life," the first volume to appear (1669)
contained the Book of Foundations, to which was prefixed the history
of the foundation of St. Joseph's from the
"Life." When, therefore, the new translation of the latter
appeared, in 1671, this portion of the book was
omitted.[38] The translation was made direct
from the Spanish but "uniformly with the Italian edition."

Mr. Lewis, whose translation is the fifth, was born on the 12th of
November, 1814, and died on January the 23rd, 1895. The first edition
was printed in 1870, the second in 1888. It is regrettable that the
latter edition, of which the present is a reprint, omitted the
marginal notes which would have been so helpful to the reader.

St. Teresa's life and character having
always been a favourite study of men and women of various schools of
thought, it may be useful to notice here a few recent English and
foreign works on the subject:â€”

The Life of Saint Teresa, by the author of
"Devotions before and after Holy Communion" (i.e., Miss Maria
Trench), London, 1875.

The Life of Saint Teresa of the Order of Our Lady of Mount
Carmel. Edited with a preface by the Archbishop of Westminster
(Cardinal Manning), London, 1865. (By Miss Elizabeth Lockhart,
afterwards first abbess of the Franciscan convent, Notting Hill.)
Frequently reprinted.

The Life and Letters of St.
Teresa, by Henry James Coleridge, S.J. Quarterly Series. 3
vols (1881, 1887, 1888).

And, from another point of view:

The Life of St. Teresa, by
Gabriela Cunninghame-Graham, 2 vols,
London, 1894.

Histoire de Sainte ThÃ©rÃ¨se d'aprÃ¨s les
Bollandistes. 2 vols, Nantes, 1882. Frequently reprinted.
The author is Mlle.
Adelaide Lecornu (born 5 July, 1852, died at the Carmelite convent at
Caen, 14 December, 1901. Her name in religion was
Adelaide-JÃ©ronyme-Zoe-Marie du SacrÃ©-Coeur).

An excellent character sketch of the Saint has appeared in
the "Les Saints" series (Paris,
Lecoffre, 1901):

Sainte ThÃ©rÃ¨se, par Henri Joly.

Although the attempt at explaining the extraordinary phenomena in
the life of St. Teresa by animal Magnetism
and similar obscure theories had already been exploded by the
Bollandists, it has lately been revived by Professor Don Arturo
Perales Gutierrez of Granada, and Professor Don Fernando Segundo
Brieva Salvatierra of Madrid, who considered her a subject of
hysterical derangements. The discussion carried on for some time, not
only in Spain but also in France, Germany, and other countries, has
been ably summed up and disposed of by P. GrÃ©goire de S. Joseph: La
prÃ©tendue HystÃ©rie de Sainte ThÃ©rÃ¨se. Lyons.

The Bibliographie ThÃ©rÃ¨sienne, by Henry de
Curzon (Paris, 1902) is, unfortunately, too incomplete, not to say
slovenly, to be of much use.

Finally, it is necessary to say a word about the spelling of the
name Teresa. In Spanish and Italian it should be written without an
h as these languages do not admit the use of Th; in
English, likewise, where this combination of letters represents a
special sound, the name should be spelt with T only. But the present
fashion of thus writing it in Latin, German, French, and other
languages, which generally maintain the etymological spelling, is
intolerable: The name is Greek, and was placed on the calendar in
honour of a noble Spanish lady, St.
Therasia, who became the wife of a Saint, Paulinus of Nola, and a
Saint herself. See Sainte ThÃ©rÃ¨se, Lettres au R. P.
Bouix, by the AbbÃ© Postel, Paris, 1864. The derivation of the
name from the Hebrew Thersa can no longer be defended (Father
Jerome-Gratian, in Fuente, Obras, Vol. VI., p.
369 sqq.).

Benedict Zimmerman,

Prior O.C.D.

St. Luke's Priory,

Wincanton, Somerset.

16th July, 1904.

The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, of The Order of Our Lady of Carmel

St. Teresa's Arguments of the Chapters

J.H.S. Chapter I.[39]â€”In which she tells
how God[40] began to dispose this soul from
childhood for virtue, and how she was helped by having
virtuous parents.

Chapter II.â€”How she lost these virtues and how important it is to
deal from childhood with virtuous persons.

Chapter III.â€”In which she sets forth how good company was the
means of her resuming good intentions, and in what manner God began to
give her some light on the deception to which she was subjected.

Chapter IV.â€”She explains how, with the assistance of God, she
compelled herself to take the (Religious) habit, and how His Majesty
began to send her many infirmities.

Chapter V.â€”She continues to speak of the great infirmities she
suffered and the patience God gave her to bear them, and how He turned
evil into good, as is seen from something that happened at the place
where she went for a cure.

Chapter VI.â€”Of the great debt she owes God for giving her
conformity of her will (with His) in her trials, and how she turned
towards the glorious St. Joseph as her
helper and advocate, and how much she profited thereby.

Chapter VII.â€”Of the way whereby she lost the graces God had
granted her, and the wretched life she began to lead; she also speaks
of the danger arising from the want of a strict enclosure in convents
of nuns.

Chapter VIII.â€”Of the great advantage she derived from not entirely
abandoning prayer so as not to lose her soul; and what an excellent
remedy this is in order to win back what one has lost. She exhorts
everybody to practise prayer, and shows what a gain

it is, even if one should have given it up for a time, to make use
of so great a good.

Chapter IX.â€”By what means God began to rouse her soul and give
light in the midst of darkness, and to strengthen her virtues so that
she should not offend Him.

Chapter X.â€”She begins to explain the graces God gave her in
prayer, and how much we can do for ourselves, and of the importance of
understanding God's mercies towards us. She requests those to whom
this is to be sent to keep the remainder (of this book) secret, since
they have commanded her to go into so many details about the graces
God has shown her.

Chapter XI.â€”In which she sets forth how it is that we do not love
God perfectly in a short time. She begins to expound by means of a
comparison four degrees of prayer, of the first of which she treats
here; this is most profitable for beginners and for those who find no
taste in prayer.

Chapter XII.â€”Continuation of the first state. She declares how
far, with the grace of God, we can proceed by ourselves, and speaks of
the danger of seeking supernatural and extraordinary experiences
before God lifts up the soul.

Chapter XIII.â€”She continues to treat of the first degree, and
gives advice with respect to certain temptations sometimes sent by
Satan. This is most profitable.

Chapter XIV.â€”She begins to explain the second degree of prayer in
which God already gives the soul special consolations, which she shows
here to be supernatural. This is most noteworthy.

Chapter XV.â€”Continuing the same subject, she gives certain advice
how one should behave in the prayer of quiet. She shows that many
souls advance so far, but that few go beyond. The matters treated of
in this chapter are very necessary and profitable.

Chapter XVI.â€”On the third degree of prayer; she declares things of
an elevated nature; what the soul that has come so far can do, and the
effect of such great graces of God. This is calculated to greatly
animate the spirit to the praise of God, and contains advice for those
who have reached this point.

Chapter XVII.â€”Continues to declare matters concerning the third
degree of prayer and completes the explanation of its effects. She
also treats of the impediment caused by the imagination and
the memory.

Chapter XVIII.â€”She treats of the fourth degree of prayer, and
begins to explain[41] in what high dignity God
holds a soul that has attained this state; this should animate those
who are given to

prayer, to make an effort to reach so high a state since it can be
obtained in this world, though not by merit but only through the
goodness of God[42].

Chapter XIX.â€”She continues the same subject, and begins to explain
the effects on the soul of this degree of prayer. She earnestly
exhorts not to turn back nor to give up prayer even if, after having
received this favour, one should fall. She shows the damage that
would result (from the neglect of this advice). This is most
noteworthy and consoling for the weak and for sinners.

Chapter XX.â€”She speaks of the difference between Union and Trance,
and explains what a Trance is; she also says something about the good
a soul derives from being, through God's goodness, led so far. She
speaks of the effects
of Union.[43]

Chapter XXI.â€”She continues and concludes this last degree of
prayer, and says what a soul having reached it feels when obliged to
turn back and live in the world, and speaks of the light God gives
concerning the deceits (of the world). This is good doctrine.

Chapter XXII.â€”In which she shows that the safest way for
contemplatives is not to lift up the spirit to high things but to wait
for God to lift it up. How the Sacred Humanity of Christ is the
medium for the most exalted contemplation. She mentions an error
under which she laboured for some time. This chapter is
most profitable.

Chapter XXIII.â€”She returns to the history of her life, how she
began to practise greater perfection. This is profitable for those
who have to direct souls practising prayer that they may know how to
deal with beginners, and she speaks of the profit she derived from
such knowledge.

Chapter XXIV.â€”She continues the same subject and tells how her
soul improved since she began to practise obedience, and how little
she was able to resist God's graces, and how His Majesty continued to
give them more and more abundantly.

Chapter XXV.â€”Of the manner in which Locutions of God are perceived
by the soul without being actually heard; and of some deceits that
might take place in this matter, and how one is to know which is
which. This is most profitable for those who are in this degree of
prayer, because it is very well explained, and contains
excellent doctrine.

Chapter XXVI.â€”She continues the same subject; explains and tells
things that have happened to her which caused her to lose fear and
convinced her that the spirit which spoke to her was a good one.

Chapter XXVII.â€”Of another way in which God teaches a soul, and,
without speaking, makes His Will known in an admirable manner. She
goes on to explain a vision, though not an imaginary one, and a great
grace with which God favoured her. This chapter is noteworthy.

Chapter XXVIII.â€”She treats of the great favours God showed her,
and how He appeared to her for the first time; she explains what an
imaginary vision is, and speaks of the powerful effects it leaves and
the signs whether it is from God. This chapter is most profitable
and noteworthy.

Chapter XXIX.â€”She continues and tells of some great mercies God
showed her, and what His Majesty said to her in order to assure her
(of the truth of these visions), and taught her how to
answer contradictors.

Chapter XXX.â€”She continues the history of her life, and how God
sent her a remedy for all her anxieties by calling the holy Friar
Fray Pedro de Alcantara of the Order of the
glorious St. Francis to the place where she
lived. She mentions some great temptations and interior trials
through which she sometimes had to pass.

Chapter XXXI.â€”She speaks of some exterior temptations and
apparitions of Satan, and how he ill-treated her. She mentions,
moreover, some very good things by way of advice to persons who are
walking on the way of perfection.

Chapter XXXII.â€”She narrates how it pleased God to put her in
spirit in that place of Hell she had deserved by her sins. She tells
a little[44] of what she saw there compared
with what there was besides. She begins to speak of the manner and
way of founding the convent of St. Joseph
where she now lives.

Chapter XXXIII.â€”She continues the subject of the foundation of the
glorious St. Joseph. How she was commanded
to have nothing (further) to do with it, how she abandoned it, also
the troubles it brought her and how God consoled her in all this.

Chapter XXXIV.â€”She shows how at that time it happened that she
absented herself from this place and how her Superior commanded her to
go away at the request of a very noble lady who was in great
affliction. She begins to tell what happened to her there, and the
great grace God bestowed upon her in determining through her
instrumentality a person of distinction to serve Him truly; and how
that person found favour and help in her (Teresa). This
is noteworthy.

Chapter XXXV.â€”Continuation of the foundation of this house of our
glorious Father St. Joseph; in what manner
our Lord ordained that holy poverty should be observed there; the
reason

why she left the lady with whom she had been staying, and some
other things that happened.

Chapter XXXVI.â€”She continues the same subject, and shows how the
foundation of this convent of the glorious St. Joseph was finally accomplished, and the
great contradictions and persecutions she had to endure after the
Religious had taken the habit, and the great trials and temptations
through which she passed, and how God led her forth victorious to His
own glory and praise.

Chapter XXXVII.â€”Of the effects which remained when God granted her
some favour; together with other very good doctrine. She shows how
one ought to strive after and prize every increase in heavenly glory,
and that for no trouble whatever one should neglect a good that is to
be perpetual.

Chapter XXXVIII.â€”She treats of some great mercies God showed her,
even making known to her heavenly secrets by means of visions and
revelations His Majesty vouchsafed to grant her; she speaks of the
effects they caused and the great improvement resulting in
her soul.

Chapter XXXIX.â€”She continues the same subject, mentioning great
graces granted her by God; how He promised to hear her requests on
behalf of persons for whom she should pray. Some remarkable instances
in which His Majesty thus favoured her.

Chapter XL.â€”Continuation of the same subject of great mercies God
has shown her. From some of these very good doctrine may be gathered,
and this, as she declares, was, besides compliance with obedience, her
principal motive (in writing this book), namely to enumerate such of
these mercies as would be instructive to souls. This chapter brings
the history of her Life, written by herself, to an end. May it be for
the glory of God. Amen.

The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, of The Order of Our Lady of Carmel

Preface by David Lewis

St. Teresa was born in Avila on
Wednesday, March 28, 1515. Her father was Don Alfonso Sanchez de
Cepeda, and her mother DoÃ±a Beatriz Davila y Ahumada. The name she
received in her baptism was common to both families, for her
great-grandmother on the father's side was Teresa Sanchez, and her
grandmother on her mother's side was Teresa de las Cuevas. While she
remained in the world, and even after she had become a nun in the
monastery of the Incarnation, which was under the mitigated rule, she
was known as DoÃ±a Teresa Sanchez Cepeda Davila y Ahumada; for in those
days children took the name either of the father or of the mother, as
it pleased them. The two families were noble, but that of Ahumada was
no longer in possession of its former wealth and
power.[45] DoÃ±a Beatriz was the second wife of
Don Alfonso, and was related in the fourth degree to the first wife,
as appears from the dispensation granted to make the marriage valid on
the 16th of October, 1509. Of this marriage Teresa was the
third child.

DoÃ±a Beatriz died young, and the eldest daughter, Maria de Cepeda,
took charge of her younger sistersâ€”they were twoâ€”and was as a second
mother to them till her marriage, which took place in 1531, when the
Saint was in her sixteenth year. But as she was too young to be left
in charge of her father's house, and as her education was not
finished, she was sent to the Augustinian monastery, the nuns of which
received young girls, and brought them up in the fear of
God.[46] The Saint's own account is that she
was too giddy and careless to be trusted at home, and that it was
necessary to put her under the care of those who would watch over her
and correct her ways. She remained a year and a half with the
Augustinian nuns, and all the while God was calling her to Himself.
She was not willing to listen to His voice; she would ask the nuns to
pray for her that she might have light to see her way; "but for
all this," she writes, "I wished not to be a
nun."[47] By degrees her will

yielded, and she had some inclination to become a religious at the
end of the eighteen months of her stay, but that was all. She became
ill; her father removed her, and the struggle within herself
continued,â€”on the one hand, the voice of God calling her; on the
other, herself labouring to escape from her vocation.

At last, after a struggle which lasted three months, she made up
her mind, and against her inclination, to give up the world. She
asked her father's leave, and was refused. She besieged him through
her friends, but to no purpose. "The utmost I could get from
him," she says, "was that I might do as I pleased after his
death."[48] How long this contest with her
father lasted is not known, but it is probable that it lasted many
months, for the Saint was always most careful of the feelings of
others, and would certainly have endured much rather than displease a
father whom she loved so much, and who also loved her more than his
other children.[49]

But she had to forsake her father, and so she left her father's
house by stealth, taking with her one of her brothers, whom she had
persuaded to give himself to God in religion. The brother and sister
set out early in the morning, the former for the monastery of the
Dominicans, and the latter for the Carmelite monastery of the
Incarnation, in Avila. The nuns received her into the house, but sent
word to her father of his child's escape. Don Alfonso, however,
yielded at once, and consented to the sacrifice which he was compelled
to make.

In the monastery of the Incarnation the Saint was led on, without
her own knowledge, to states of prayer so high, that she became
alarmed about herself. In the purity and simplicity of her soul, she
feared that the supernatural visitations of God might after all be
nothing else but delusions
of Satan.[50] She
was so humble, that she could not believe graces so great could be
given to a sinner like herself. The first person she consulted in her
trouble seems to have been a layman, related to her family, Don
Francisco de Salcedo. He was a married man, given to prayer, and a
diligent frequenter of the theological lectures in the monastery of
the Dominicans. Through him she obtained the help of a holy priest,
Gaspar Daza, to whom she made known the state of her soul. The
priest, hindered by his other labours, declined to be her director,
and the Saint admits that she could have made no progress under his
guidance.[51] She now placed herself in the
hands of Don Francis, who encouraged her in every way, and, for the
purpose of helping her onwards in the way of perfection, told her of
the difficulties he himself had met with, and how by the grace of God
he had overcome them.

But when the Saint told him of the great graces which God
bestowed upon her, Don Francis became alarmed; he could not

reconcile them with the life the Saint was living, according to her
own account. He never thought of doubting the Saint's account, and did
not suspect her of exaggerating her imperfections in the depths of her
humility: "he thought the evil spirit might have something to
do" with her,[52] and advised her to
consider carefully her way of prayer.

Don Francis now applied again to Gaspar Daza, and the two friends
consulted together; but, after much prayer on their part and on that
of the Saint, they came to the conclusion that she "was deluded by
an evil spirit," and recommended her to have recourse to the
fathers of the Society of Jesus, lately settled in Avila.

The Saint, now in great fear, but still hoping and trusting that
God would not suffer her to be deceived, made preparations for a
general confession; and committed to writing the whole story of her
life, and made known the state of her soul to F. Juan de Padranos, one of the fathers of the
Society. F. Juan understood it all, and
comforted her by telling her that her way of prayer was sound and the
work of God. Under his direction she made great progress, and for the
further satisfaction of her confessor, and of Don Francis, who seems
to have still retained some of his doubts, she told everything to
St. Francis de Borja, who on one point
changed the method of direction observed by F. Juan. That father recommended her to resist
the supernatural visitations of the spirit as much as she could, but
she was not able, and the resistance pained
her;[53] St. Francis
told her she had done enough, and that it was not right to prolong
that resistance.[54]

The account of her life which she wrote before she applied to the
Jesuits for direction has not been preserved; but it is possible that
it was made more for her own security than for the purpose of being
shown to her confessor.

The next account is Relation I., made for St. Peter of Alcantara, and was probably seen by
many; for that Saint had to defend her, and maintain that the state of
her soul was the work of God, against those who thought that she was
deluded by Satan. Her own confessor was occasionally alarmed, and had
to consult others, and thus, by degrees, her state became known to
many; and there were some who, were so persuaded of her delusions,
that they wished her to be exorcised as one possessed of an evil
spirit,[55] and at a later time her friends
were afraid that she might be denounced to
the Inquisitors.[56]

During the troubles that arose when it became known that the Saint
was about to found the monastery of St. Joseph, and therein establish the original
rule of her Order in its primitive simplicity

and austerity, she went for counsel to the Father Fra Pedro
IbaÃ±ez,[57] the Dominican, a most holy and
learned priest. That father not only encouraged her, and commended
her work, but also ordered her to give him in writing the story of her
spiritual life. The Saint readily obeyed, and began it in the
monastery of the Incarnation, and finished it in the house of DoÃ±a
Luisa de la Cerda, in Toledo, in the month of June, 1562. On the 24th
of August, the feast of St. Bartholomew, in
the same year, the Reform of the Carmelites began in the new monastery
of St. Joseph in Avila.

What the Saint wrote for Fra IbaÃ±ez has not been found. It is, no
doubt, substantially preserved in her Life, as we have it
now, and is supposed to have reached no further than the end of ch.
xxxi. What follows was added by direction of another Dominican
father, confessor of the Saint in the new monastery of St. Joseph, Fra Garcia of Toledo, who, in 1562,
bade her "write the history of that foundation, and
other matters."

But as the Saint carried a heavy burden laid on her by God, a
constant fear of delusion, she had recourse about the same time to the
Inquisitor Soto, who advised her to write a history of her life, send
it to Juan of Avila, the "Apostle of Andalucia," and abide by
his counsel. As the direction of Fra Garcia of Toledo and the advice
of the Inquisitor must have been given, according to her account,
about the same time, the Life, as we have it now, must
have occupied her nearly six years in the writing of it, which may
well be owing to her unceasing care in firmly establishing the new
monastery of St. Joseph. The book at last
was sent to Blessed Juan of Avila by her friend DoÃ±a Luisa de la
Cerda, and that great master of the spiritual life wrote the following
censure of it:

"The grace and peace of Jesus Christ be with
you always.

"1. When I undertook to read the book sent me, it was not so
much because I thought myself able to judge of it, as because I
thought I might, by the grace of our Lord, learn something from the
teachings it contains: and praised be Christ; for, though I have not
been able to read it with the leisure it requires, I have been
comforted by it, and might have been edified by it, if the fault had
not been mine. And although, indeed, I may have been comforted by it,
without saying more, yet the respect due to the subject and to the
person who has sent it will not allow me, I think, to let it go back
without giving my opinion on it, at least in general.

"2. The book is not fit to be in the hands of everybody, for it
is necessary to correct the language in some places, and explain it in
others; and there are some things in it useful for
your spiritual

life and not so for others who might adopt them, for
the special ways by which God leads some souls are not meant for
others. These points, or the greater number of them, I have marked for
the purpose of arranging them when I shall be able to do so, and I
shall not fail to send them to you; for if you were aware of my
infirmities and necessary occupations, I believe they would make you
pity me rather than blame me for the omission.

"3. The doctrine of prayer is for the most part sound, and you
may rely on it, and observe it; and the raptures I find to possess the
tests of those which are true. What you say of God's way of teaching
the soul, without respect to the imagination and without interior
locutions, is safe, and I find nothing to object to it. St. Augustine speaks well of it.

"4. Interior locutions in these days have been a delusion of
many, and exterior locutions are the least safe. It is easy enough to
see when they proceed from ourselves, but to distinguish between those
of a good and those of an evil spirit is more difficult. There are
many rules given for finding out whether they come from our Lord or
not, and one of them is, that they should be sent us in a time of
need, or for some good end, as for the comforting a man under
temptation or in doubt, or as a warning of coming danger. As a good
man will not speak unadvisedly, neither will God; so, considering
this, and that the locutions are agreeable to the holy writings and
the teaching of the Church, my opinion is that the locutions mentioned
in the book came from God.

"5. Imaginary or bodily visions are those which are most
doubtful, and should in no wise be desired, and if they come undesired
still they should be shunned as much as possible, yet not by treating
them with contempt, unless it be certain that they come from an evil
spirit; indeed, I was filled with horror, and greatly distressed, when
I read of the gestures of contempt that were
made.[58] People ought to entreat our Lord
not to lead them by the way of visions, but to reserve for them in
Heaven the blessed vision of Himself and the saints, and to guide them
here along the beaten path as He guides His faithful servants, and
they must take other good measures for avoiding these visions.

"6. But if the visions continue after all this is done, and if
the soul derives good from them, and if they do not lead to vanity,
but deeper humility, and if the locutions be at one with the teaching
the Church, and if they continue for any time, and that with inward
satisfactionâ€”better felt than describedâ€”there is no reason for
avoiding them. But no one ought to rely on his own judgment herein;
he should make everything known to him who can give him light. That
is the universal remedy to be had recourse to in such matters,
together with hope in God, Who will not

let a soul that wishes to be safe lie under a delusion, if it be
humble enough to yield obedience to the opinion of others.

"7. Nor should any one cause alarm by condemning them
forthwith, because he sees that the person to whom they are granted is
not perfect, for it is nothing new that our Lord in His goodness makes
wicked people just, yea, even grievous sinners; by giving them to
taste most deeply of His sweetness. I have seen it so myself. Who
will set bounds to the goodness of our Lord?â€”especially when these
graces are given, not for merit, nor because one is stronger; on the
contrary, they are given to one because he is weaker; and as they do
not make one more holy, they are not always given to the
most holy.

"8. They are unreasonable who disbelieve these things merely
because they are most high things, and because it seems to them
incredible that infinite Majesty humbles Himself to these loving
relations with one of His creatures. It is written, God is love, and
if He is love, then infinite love and infinite goodness, and we must
not be surprised if such a love and such a goodness breaks out into
such excesses of love as disturb those who know nothing of it. And
though many know of it by faith, still, as to that special experience
of the loving, and more than loving, converse of God with whom He
will, if not had, how deep it reaches can never be known; and so I
have seen many persons scandalized at hearing of what God in His love
does for His creatures. As they are themselves very far away from it,
they cannot think that God will do for others what He is not doing for
them. As this is an effect of love, and that a love which causes
wonder, reason requires we should look upon it as a sign of its being
from God, seeing that He is wonderful in His works, and most
especially in those of his compassion; but they take occasion from
this to be distrustful, which should have been a ground of confidence,
when other circumstances combine as evidences of these visitations
being good.

"9. It seems from the book, I think, that you have resisted,
and even longer than was right. I think, too, that these locutions
have done your soul good, and in particular that they have made you
see your own wretchedness and your faults more clearly, and amend
them. They have lasted long, and always with spiritual profit. They
move you to love God, and to despise yourself, and to do penance. I
see no reasons for condemning them, I incline rather to regard them as
good, provided you are careful not to rely altogether on them,
especially if they are unusual, or bid you do something out of the
way, or are not very plain. In all these and the like cases you must
withhold your belief in them, and at once seek for direction.

"10. Also it should be considered that, even if they do come
from God, Satan may mix with them suggestions of his own; you
should therefore be always suspicious of them. Also,
when they

are known to be from God, men must not rest much on
them, seeing that holiness does not lie in them, but in a humble love
of God and our neighbour; everything else, however good, must be
feared, and our efforts directed to the gaining of humility, goodness,
and the love of our Lord. It is seemly, also, not to worship what is
seen in these visions, but only Jesus Christ, either as in Heaven or
in the Sacrament, or, if it be a vision of the Saints, then to lift up
the heart to the Holy One in Heaven, and not to that which is
presented to the imagination: let it suffice that the imagination may
be made use of for the purpose of raising me up to that which it makes
me see.

"11. I say, too, that the things mentioned in this book befall
other persons even in this our day, and that there is great certainty
that they come from God, Whose arm is not shortened that He cannot do
now what He did in times past, and that in weak vessels, for His
own glory.

"12. Go on your road, but always suspecting robbers, and asking
for the right way; give thanks to our Lord, Who has given you His
love, the knowledge of yourself, and a love of penance and the cross,
making no account of these other things. However, do not despise them
either, for there are signs that most of them come from our Lord, and
those that do not come from Him will not hurt you if you ask
for direction.

"13. I cannot believe that I have written this in my own
strength, for I have none, but it is the effect of your prayers. I
beg of you, for the love of Jesus Christ our Lord, to burden yourself
with a prayer for me; He knows that I am asking this in great need,
and I think that is enough to make you grant my request. I ask your
permission to stop now, for I am bound to write another letter. May
Jesus be glorified in all and by all! Amen.

"Your servant, for Christ's sake.

"Juan de Avila

"Montilla, 12th Sept., 1568."

Her confessors, having seen the book, "commanded her to make
copies of it,"[59] one of which has been
traced into the possession of the Duke and Duchess of Alva.

The Princess of Eboli, in 1569, obtained a copy from the Saint
herself, after much importunity; but it was more out of vanity or
curiosity, it is to be feared, than from any real desire to learn the
story of the Saint's spiritual life, that the Princess desired the
boon. She and her husband promised to keep it from the knowledge of
others, but the promise given was not kept. The Saint heard within a
few days later that the book was in the hands of the servants of the
Princess, who was angry with the Saint because she had refused to
admit, at the request of the Princess, an Augustinian

nun into the Order of Carmel in the new foundation of Pastrana. The
contents of the book were bruited abroad, and the visions and
revelations of the Saint were said to be of a like nature with those
of Magdalene of the Cross, a deluded and deluding nun. The gossip in
the house of the Princess was carried to Madrid, and the result was
that the Inquisition began to make a search for the
book.[60] It is not quite clear, however,
that it was seized at this time.

The Princess became a widow in July, 1573, and insisted on becoming
a Carmelite nun in the house she and her husband, Ruy Gomez, had
founded in Pastrana. When the news of her resolve reached the
monastery, the mother-prioress, Isabel of St. Dominic, exclaimed, "The Princess a nun!
I look on the house as ruined." The Princess came, and insisted
on her right as foundress; she had compelled a friar to give her the
habit before her husband was buried, and when she came to Pastrana she
began her religious life by the most complete disobedience and
disregard of common propriety. Don Vicente's description of her is
almost literally correct, though intended only for a general
summary of her most childish conduct:

"On the death of the Prince of Eboli, the Princess would become
a nun in her monastery of Pastrana. The first day she had a fit of
violent fervour; on the next she relaxed the rule; on the third she
broke it, and conversed with secular people within the cloisters. She
was also so humble that she required the nuns to speak to her on their
knees, and insisted upon their receiving into the house as religious
whomsoever she pleased. Hereupon complaints were made to St. Teresa, who remonstrated with the Princess,
and showed her how much she was in the wrong, whereupon she replied
that the monastery was hers; but the Saint proved to her that the nuns
were not, and had them removed
to Segovia."[61]

The nuns were withdrawn from Pastrana in April, 1574, and then the
anger of the Princess prevailed; she sent the Life of the Saint, which
she had still in her possession, to the Inquisition, and denounced it
as a book containing visions, revelations, and dangerous doctrines,
which the Inquisitors should look into and examine: The book was
forthwith given to theologians for examination, and two Dominican
friars, of whom BaÃ±es was one, were delegated censors of it by
the Inquisition.[62]

Fra BaÃ±es did not know the Saint when he undertook her defence in
Avila against the authorities of the city, eager to destroy the
monastery of St. Joseph;[63] but from
that time forth he was one of her most faithful friends, strict and
even severe, as became

a wise director who had a great Saint for his penitent. He
testifies in the process of her beatification that he was firm and
sharp with her; while she herself was the more desirous of his
counsel, the more he humbled her, and the less he appeared to esteem
her.[64] When he found that copies of her
life were in the hands of secular people,â€”he had probably also heard
of the misconduct of the Princess of Eboli,â€”he showed his displeasure
to the Saint, and told her he would burn the book, it being unseemly
that the writings of women should be made public. The Saint left it
in his hands, but Fra BaÃ±es, struck with her humility, had not the
courage to burn it; he sent it to the Holy Office in
Madrid.[65] Thus the book was in a sense
denounced twice,â€”once by an enemy, the second time by a friend, to
save it. Both the Saint and her confessor, Fra BaÃ±es, state that the
copy given up by the latter was sent to the Inquisition in Madrid, and
Fra BaÃ±es says so twice in his deposition. The Inquisitor Soto
returned the copy to Fra BaÃ±es, desiring him to read it, and give his
opinion thereon. Fra BaÃ±es did so, and wrote his "censure" of
the book on the blank leaves at the end. That censure still remains,
and is one of the most important, because given during the lifetime of
the Saint, and while many persons were crying out against her. BaÃ±es
wished it had been published when the Saint's Life was given to the
world by Fra Luis de Leon; but notwithstanding its value, and its
being preserved in the book which is in the handwriting of the Saint,
no one before Don Vicente made it known. It was easy enough to praise
the writings of St. Teresa, and to admit
her sanctity, after her death. Fra BaÃ±es had no external help in the
applause of the many, and he had to judge the book as a theologian,
and the Saint as one of his ordinary penitents. When he wrote, he
wrote like a man whose whole life was spent, as he tells us himself,
"in lecturing
and disputing."[66]

That censure is as follows:

"1. This book, wherein Teresa of Jesus, Carmelite
nun, and foundress of the Barefooted Carmelites, gives a plain account
of the state of her soul, in order to be taught and directed by her
confessors, has been examined by me, and with much attention, and I
have not found anywhere in it anything which, in my opinion, is
erroneous in doctrine. On the contrary, there are many things in it
highly edifying and instructive for those who give themselves to
prayer. The great experience of this religious, her discretion also
and her humility, which made her always seek for light and learning in
her confessors, enabled her to speak with an accuracy

on the subject of prayer that the most learned men,
through their want of experience, have not always attained to. One
thing only there is about the book that may reasonably cause any
hesitation till it shall be very carefully examined; it contains many
visions and revelations, matters always to be afraid of, especially in
women, who are very ready to believe of them that they come from God,
and to look on them as proofs of sanctity, though sanctity does not
lie in them. On the contrary, they should be regarded as dangerous
trials for those who are aiming at perfection, because Satan is wont
to transform himself into an angel of
light,[67] and to deceive souls which are
curious and of scant humility, as we have seen in our day:
nevertheless, we must not therefore lay down a general rule that all
revelations and visions come from the devil. If it were so, St. Paul could not have said that Satan
transforms himself into an angel of light, if the angel of light did
not sometimes enlighten us.

"2. Saints, both men and women, have had revelations, not only
in ancient, but also in modern times; such were St. Dominic, St. Francis, St. Vincent Ferrer, St. Catherine of Siena, St. Gertrude, and many others that might be
named; and as the Church of God is, and is to be, always holy to the
end, not only because her profession is holiness, but because there
are in her just persons and perfect in holiness, it is unreasonable to
despise visions and revelations, and condemn them in one sweep, seeing
they are ordinarily accompanied with much goodness and a Christian
life. On the contrary, we should follow the saying of the Apostle in
(1 Thess. v. 19â€“22) 'Spiritum nolite extinguere.
Prophetias nolite spernere. Omnia [autem] probate: quod bonum est
tenete. Ab omni specie mala abstinete vos.' He who will read
St. Thomas on that passage will see how
carefully they are to be examined who, in the Church of God, manifest
any particular gift that may be profitable or hurtful to our
neighbour, and how watchful the examiners ought to be lest the fire of
the Spirit of God should be quenched in the good, and others cowed in
the practices of the perfect Christian life.

"3. Judging by the revelations made to her, this woman, even
though she may be deceived in something, is at least not herself a
deceiver, because she tells all the good and the bad so simply, and
with so great a wish to be correct, that no doubt can be made as to
her good intention; and the greater the reason for trying spirits of
this kind, because there are persons in our day who are deceivers with
the appearance of piety, the more necessary it is to defend those who,
with the appearance, have also the reality, of piety. For it is a
strange thing to see how lax and worldly people delight in seeing
those discredited who have an appearance of goodness. God complained
of old, by the Prophet Ezekiel, ch. xiii., of those false prophets who
made the just to mourn and who flattered sinners, saying:
'Maerere fecistis cor justi mendaciter,
quem Ego

non contristavi: et comfortastis manus
impii.' In a certain sense this may be said of those who
frighten souls who are going on by the way of prayer and perfection,
telling them that this way is singular and full of danger, that many
who went by it have fallen into delusions, and that the safest way is
that which is plain and common, travelled by all.

"4. Words of this kind, clearly, sadden the hearts of those who
would observe the counsels of perfection in continual prayer, so far
as it is possible for them, and in much fasting, watching, and
disciplines; and, on the other hand, the lax and the wicked take
courage and lose the fear of God, because they consider the way on
which they are travelling as the safer: and this is their
delusion,â€”they call that a plain and safe road which is the absence
of the knowledge and consideration of the dangers and precipices
amidst which we are all of us journeying in this world. Nevertheless,
there is no other security than that which lies in our knowing our
daily enemies, and in humbly imploring the compassion of God, if we
would not be their prisoners. Besides, there are souls whom God, in a
way, constrains to enter on the way of perfection, and who, if they
relaxed in their fervour, could not keep a middle course, but would
immediately fall into the other extreme of sins, and for souls of this
kind it is of the utmost necessity that they should watch and pray
without ceasing; and, in short, there is nobody whom lukewarmness does
not injure. Let every man examine his own conscience, and he will
find this to be the truth.

"5. I firmly believe that if God for a time bears with the
lukewarm, it is owing to the prayers of the fervent, who are
continually crying, 'et ne nos inducas in
tentationem.' I have said this, not for the purpose of
honouring those whom we see walking in the way of contemplation; for
it is another extreme into which the world falls, and a covert
persecution of goodness, to pronounce those holy forthwith who have
the appearance of it. For that would be to furnish them with motives
for vain-glory, and would do little honour to goodness; on the
contrary, it would expose it to great risks, because, when they fall
who have been objects of praise, the honour of goodness suffers more
than if those people had not been so esteemed. And so I look upon this
exaggeration of their holiness who are still living in the world to be
a temptation of Satan. That we should have a good opinion of the
servants of God is most just, but let us consider them always as
people in danger, however good they may be, and that their goodness is
not so evident that we can be sure of it even now.

"6. Considering myself that what I have said is true, I have
always proceeded cautiously in the examination of this account of the
prayer and life of this nun, and no one has been more incredulous than
myself as to her visions and revelations,â€”not so, however as to her
goodness and her good desires, for herein I have had

great experience of her truthfulness, her obedience,
mortification, patience, and charity towards her persecutors, and of
her other virtues, which any one who will converse with her will
discern; and this is what may be regarded as a more certain proof of
her real love of God than these visions and revelations. I do not,
however, undervalue her visions, revelations, and ecstasies; on the
contrary, I suspect them to be the work of God, as they have been in
others who were Saints. But in this case it is always safer to be
afraid and wary; for if she is confident about them, Satan will take
occasion to interfere, and that which was once, perhaps, the work of
God, may be changed into something else, and that will be
the devil's.

"7. I am of opinion that this book is not to be shown to every
one, but only to men of learning, experience, and Christian
discretion. It perfectly answers the purpose for which it was
written, namely, that the nun should give an account of the state of
her soul to those who had the charge of it, in order that she might
not fall into delusions. Of one thing I am very sure, so far as it is
possible for a man to be,â€”she is not a deceiver; she deserves,
therefore, for her sincerity, that all should be favourable to her in
her good purposes and good works. For within the last thirteen years
she has, I believe, founded a dozen monasteries of Barefooted
Carmelite nuns, the austerity and perfection of which are exceeded by
none other; of which they who have been visitors of them, as the
Dominican Provincial, master
in theology,[68]
Fra Pedro Fernandez, the master Fra Hernando del Castillo, and many
others, speak highly. This is what I think, at present, concerning
the censure of this book, submitting my judgment herein to that of
Holy Church our mother, and her ministers.

"Given in the College of St. Gregory, Valladolid, on the sixth day of
July, 1575.

"Fra Domingo BaÃ±es."

The book remained in the keeping of the Inquisition, and the Saint
never saw it again. But she heard of it from the Archbishop of
Toledo, Cardinal Quiroga, President of the Supreme Court of the
Inquisition, when she applied to him for license to found a monastery
in Madrid. Jerome of the Mother of God was with her; and heard the
Cardinal's reply. His Eminence said he was glad to see her; that a
book of hers had been in the Holy Office for some years, and had been
rigorously examined; that he had read it himself, and regarded it as
containing sound and wholesome doctrine. He would grant the license,
and do whatever he could for the Saint. When she heard this, she
wished to present a petition to the Inquisition for the restitution of
her book; but Gratian

thought it better to apply to the Duke of Alba for the copy which
he had, and which the Inquisitors had allowed him to retain and read.
The Duke gave his book to Fra Jerome, who had copies of it made for
the use of the monasteries both of men
and women.[69]

Anne of Jesus, in 1586, founding a monastery of her Order in
Madrid,â€”the Saint had died in 1582,â€”made inquiries about the book,
and applied to the Inquisition for it, for she was resolved to publish
the writings of her spiritual mother. The Inquisitors made no
difficulty, and consented to the publication. In this she was
seconded by the Empress Maria, daughter of Charles V., and widow of
Maximilian II., who had obtained one of the copies which Fra Jerome of
the Mother of God had ordered to be made. Fra Nicholas Doria, then
Provincial, asked Fra Luis de Leon, the Augustinian, to edit the book,
who consented. He was allowed to compare the copy furnished him with
the original in the keeping of the Inquisition; but his edition has
not been considered accurate, notwithstanding the facilities given
him, and his great reverence for the Saint. It was published in
Salamanca, A.D. 1588.

With the Life of the Saint, Fra Luis de Leon received certain
papers in the handwriting of the Saint, which he published as an
additional chapter. Whether he printed all he received, or merely
made extracts, may be doubtful, but anyhow that chapter is singularly
incomplete. Don Vicente de la Fuente, from whose edition (Madrid,
1861, 1862) this translation has been made, omitted the additional
chapter of Fra Luis de Leon, contrary to the practice of his
predecessors. But he has done more, for he has traced the paragraphs
of that chapter to their sources, and has given us now a collection of
papers which form almost another Life of the Saint, to which he has
given their old name
of Relations,[70] the
name which the Saint herself had given
them.[71] Some of them are usually printed
among the Saint's letters, and portions of some of the others are
found in the Lives of the Saint written by Ribera and Yepes, and in
the Chronicle of the Order; the rest was published for the first time
by Don Vicente: the arrangement of the whole is due to him.

The Relations are ten in the Spanish edition, and eleven in the
translation. The last, the eleventh, has hitherto been left among the
letters, and Don Vicente, seemingly not without some hesitation, so
left it; but as it is of the like nature with the Relations, it has
now been added to them.

The original text, in the handwriting of the Saint, is preserved in
the Escurial, not in the library, but among the relics of the Church.
Don Vicente examined it at his leisure, and afterwards found in the
National Library in Madrid an authentic and exact transcript of it,
made by order of Ferdinand VI. His edition is, therefore, far better
than any of its predecessors; but it is possible that even now there
may still remain some verbal errors for future editors to correct.
The most conscientious diligence is not a safeguard against mistakes.
F. Bouix says that in ch. xxxiv. Â§ 12, the
reading of the original differs from that of the printed editions; yet
Don Vicente takes no notice of it, and retains the common reading. It
is impossible to believe that F. Bouix has
stated as a fact that which is not. Again, in ch. xxxix. Â§ 29, the printed editions
have after the words, "Thou art Mine, and I am thine," "I
am in the habit . . . . sincerity;" but Don Vicente omits them.
This may have been an oversight, for in general he points out in his
notes all the discrepancies between the printed editions and the
original text.

A new translation of the Life of St. Teresa seems called for now, because the
original text has been collated since the previous translations were
made, and also because those translations are exceedingly scarce. The
first is believed to be thisâ€”it is a small quarto:

"The Lyf of the Mother Teresa of Jesus, Foundresse of the
Monasteries of the Discalced or Bare-footed Carmelite Nunnes and
Fryers of the First Rule.

"Written by herself at the commaundement of her ghostly
father, and now translated into English out of Spanish. By W. M., of
the Society of Jesus.

"Imprinted in Antwerp by Henry Jaye. Anno MDCXI."

Some thirty years afterwards, Sir Tobias Matthew, S.J.,
dissatisfied, as he says, with the former translation, published
another, with the following title; the volume is a small octavo
in form:

"The Flaming Hart, or the Life of the glorious St. Teresa, Foundresse of the Reformation of the
Order of the All-Immaculate Virgin Mother, our B. Lady of
Mount Carmel.

"This History of her Life was written by the Saint in
Spanish, and is newly translated into English in the year of our
Lord God 1642.

'Aut mori aut pati:

Either to dye or else to
suffer.'â€”Chap. xl.

"Antwerpe, printed by Joannes Meursius. Anno MDCXLII."

The next translation was made by Abraham Woodhead, and published in
1671, without the name of the translator, or of the printer, or of the
place of publication. It is in quarto, and bears the
following title:

"The Life of the Holy Mother St.
Teresa, Foundress of the Reformation of the Discalced Carmelites
according to the Primitive Rule. Printed in the
year MDCLXXI."

It is not said that the translation was made from the Spanish, and
there are grounds for thinking it to have been made from the Italian.
Ch. xxxii. is broken off at the end of Â§ 10; and ch. xxxiii.,
therefore, is ch. xxxvii. That which is there omitted has been thrown
into the Book of the Foundations, which, in the
translation of Mr. Woodhead, begins with Â§ 11 of ch. xxxii. of the
Life, as it also does in the Italian translation. It is
due, however, to Mr. Woodhead to say that he has printed five of the
Relations separately, not as letters, but as what they really are, and
with that designation.

The last translation is that of the Very Reverend John Dalton,
Canon of Northampton, which is now, though twice published, almost as
scarce as its predecessors. The title is:

"The Life of St. Teresa, written by
herself, and translated from the Spanish by the Rev. John Dalton. London, MDCCCLI."

Septuagesima, 1870.

The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, of The Order of Our Lady of Carmel

Annals of the Saint's Life

By Don Vicente de la Fuente.

These are substantially the same with those drawn up by the
Bollandists, but they are fuller and more minute, and furnish a more
detailed history of the Saint.

1515.

St. Teresa is born in Avila,
March 28th.[72]

1522.

She desires martyrdom, and leaves her father's house with one of
her brothers.

1527.[73]

Death of her mother.

1529.

Writes romances of chivalry, and is misled by a
thoughtless cousin.

1531.

Her sister Maria's marriage, and her removal from home to the
Augustinian monastery, where she remains till the autumn of
next year.

1533.[74]

Nov. 2, enters the monastery of the Incarnation.

1534.

Nov. 3, makes her profession.

1535.

Goes to Castellanos de la CaÃ±ada, to her sister's house, where she
remains till the spring of 1536, when she goes to Bezadas.

1537.

Returns to Avila on Palm Sunday. In July seriously ill, and in a
trance for four days, when in her father's house. Paralysed for more
than two years.

1539.

Is cured of her paralysis by St. Joseph.

1541.

Begins to grow lukewarm, and gives up mental prayer.

1542.

Our Lord appears to her in the parlour of the monastery, "stern and grave " [75].

1555.

Ceases to converse with secular people, moved thereto by the sight of a picture of our Lord on the cross[76]. The Jesuits come to Avila and the Saint confesses to F. Juan de Padranos.

1556.

Beginning of the supernatural visitations.

1557.

St. Francis de Borja comes to Avila, and approves of the spirit of the Saint.

1558.

First rapture of the Saint [77]. The vision of Hell[78]. Father Alvarez
ordained priest.

1559.

She takes F. Alvarez for her confessor. The transpiercing of her heart[79]. Vision of our Lord risen from the dead[80].

1560.

The vow of greater perfection. St. Peter of Alcantara approves of her spirit,
and St. Luis Beltran encourages her to
proceed with her plan of founding a new monastery.

1561.

F. Gaspar de Salazar, S.J., comes to Avila; her sister DoÃ±a Juana
comes to Avila from Alba de Tormes to help the Saint in the new
foundation [81]. Restores her nephew to Life[82]. Fra IbaÃ±ez bids her write her Life. Receives a sum of money from her brother in Peru, which enables her to go on with the
building of the new house.

1562.

Goes to Toledo, to the house of DoÃ±a Luisa de la Cerda, and
finishes the account of her Life. Makes the acquaintance of Fra
BaÃ±es, afterwards her principal director, and Fra Garcia of Toledo,
both Dominicans. Receives a visit from

Maria of Jesus. Has a revelation that her sister, DoÃ±a Maria, will die suddenly[83].
Returns to Avila and takes possession of the new monastery, August 24.
Troubles in Avila. The Saint ordered back to the monastery of the
Incarnation. Is commanded by Fra Garcia of Toledo to write the
history of the foundation of St. Joseph.

The Life

Prologue

The Life
of the
Holy Mother Teresa of Jesus. (Written by Herself)

As I have been commanded and left at liberty to describe at length
my way of prayer, and the workings of the grace of our Lord within me,
I could wish that I had been allowed at the same time to speak
distinctly and in detail of my grievous sins and wicked life. But it
has not been so willed; on the contrary, I am laid herein under great
restraint; and therefore, for the love of our Lord, I beg of every one
who shall read this story of
my life[84] to
keep in mind how wicked it has been; and how, among the Saints who
were converted to God, I have never found one in whom I can have any
comfort. For I see that they, after our Lord had called them, never
fell into sin again; I not only became worse, but, as it seems to me,
deliberately withstood the graces of His Majesty, because I saw that I
was thereby bound to serve Him more earnestly, knowing, at the same
time, that of myself I could not pay the least portion of my debt.

May He be blessed for ever Who waited for me so long! I implore
Him with my whole heart to send me His grace, so that in all clearness
and truth I may give this account of myself which my confessors
command me to give; and even our Lord Himself, I know it, has also
willed it should be given for some time past, but I had not the
courage to attempt it. And I pray it may be to His praise and glory,
and a help to my confessors; who, knowing me better, may succour my
weakness, so that I may render to our Lord some portion of the service
I owe Him. May all creatures praise Him for ever! Amen.

The Life

Chapter I

Childhood and Early Impressions. The Blessing of Pious
Parents. Desire of Martyrdom. Death of the Saint's Mother.

I had a father and mother, who were devout and feared God. Our
Lord also helped me with His grace. All this would have been enough
to make me good, if I had not been so wicked. My father was very much
given to the reading of good books; and so he had them in Spanish,
that his children might read them. These books, with my mother's
carefulness to make us say our prayers, and to bring us up devout to
our Lady and to certain Saints, began to make me think seriously when
I was, I believe, six or seven years old. It helped me, too, that I
never saw my father and mother respect anything but goodness. They
were very good themselves. My father was a man of great charity
towards the poor, and compassion for the sick, and also for servants;
so much so, that he never could be persuaded to keep slaves, for he
pitied them so much: and a slave belonging to one of his brothers
being once in his house, was treated by him with as

much tenderness as his own children. He used to say that he could
not endure the pain of seeing that she was not free. He was a man of
great truthfulness; nobody ever heard him swear or speak ill of any
one; his life was most pure.

2. My mother also was a woman of great goodness, and her life was
spent in great infirmities. She was singularly pure in all her ways.
Though possessing great beauty, yet was it never known that she gave
reason to suspect that she made any account whatever of it; for,
though she was only three-and-thirty years of age when she died, her
apparel was already that of a woman advanced in years. She was very
calm, and had great sense. The sufferings she went through during her
life were grievous, her death
most Christian.[85]

3. We were three sisters and nine
brothers.[86] All, by the mercy of God,
resembled their parents in goodness except myself, though I was the
most cherished of my father. And, before I began to offend God, I
think he had some reason,â€”for I am filled with sorrow whenever I
think of the good desires with which our Lord inspired me, and what a
wretched use I made of

them. Besides, my brothers never in any way hindered me in the
service of God.

4. One of my brothers was nearly of my own
age;[87] and he it was whom I most loved, though
I was very fond of them all, and they of me. He and I used to read
Lives of Saints together. When I read of martyrdom undergone by the
Saints for the love of God, it struck me that the vision of God was
very cheaply purchased; and I had a great desire to die a martyr's
death,â€”not out of any love of Him of which I was conscious, but that
I might most quickly attain to the fruition of those great joys of
which I read that they were reserved in Heaven; and I used to discuss
with my brother how we could become martyrs. We settled to go
together to the country of
the Moors,[88]
begging our way for the love of God, that we might be there
beheaded;[89] and our Lord, I believe, had given
us courage enough, even at so tender an age, if we could have found
the means to proceed; but our greatest difficulty seemed to be our
father and mother.

5. It astonished us greatly to find it said in
what we were reading that pain and bliss were everlasting. We
happened very often to talk about this; and we had a pleasure in
repeating frequently, "For ever, ever, ever." Through the
constant uttering of these

words, our Lord was pleased that I should receive an abiding
impression of the way of truth when I was yet a child.

6. As soon as I saw it was impossible to go to
any place where people would put me to death for the sake of God, my
brother and I set about becoming hermits; and in an orchard belonging
to the house we contrived, as well as we could, to build hermitages,
by piling up small stones one on the other, which fell down
immediately; and so it came to pass that we found no means of
accomplishing our wish. Even now, I have a feeling of devotion when I
consider how God gave me in my early youth what I lost by my own
fault. I gave alms as I couldâ€”and I could but little. I contrived
to be alone, for the sake of saying my
prayers[90]â€”and they were manyâ€”especially the
Rosary, to which my mother had a great devotion, and had made us also
in this like herself. I used to delight exceedingly, when playing
with other children, in the building of monasteries, as if we were
nuns; and I think I wished to be a nun, though not so much as I did to
be a martyr or a hermit.

7. I remember that, when my mother
died,[91] I was about twelve years oldâ€”a little
less. When I began to understand my loss, I went in my affliction to
an image of our Lady,[92] and with many tears
implored her to be my mother. I did this in my simplicity, and I
believe that it was of service to me; for I have by

experience found the royal Virgin help me whenever I recommended
myself to her; and at last she has brought me back to herself. It
distresses me now, when I think of, and reflect on, that which kept me
from being earnest in the good desires with which I began.

8. O my Lord, since Thou art determined to save meâ€”may it be the
pleasure of Thy Majesty to effect it!â€”and to bestow upon me so many
graces, why has it not been Thy pleasure alsoâ€”not for my advantage,
but for Thy greater honourâ€”that this habitation, wherein Thou hast
continually to dwell, should not have contracted so much defilement?
It distresses me even to say this, O my Lord, because I know the fault
is all my own, seeing that Thou hast left nothing undone to make me,
even from my youth, wholly Thine. When I would complain of my
parents, I cannot do it; for I saw nothing in them but all good, and
carefulness for my welfare. Then, growing up, I began to discover the
natural gifts which our Lord had given meâ€”they were said to be many;
and, when I should have given Him thanks for them, I made use of every
one of them, as I shall now explain, to offend Him.

The Life

Chapter II

Early Impressions. Dangerous Books and Companions. The Saint
Is Placed in a Monastery.

What I shall now speak of was, I believe, the
beginning of great harm to me. I often think how wrong it is of
parents not to be very careful that their children should always, and
in every way, see only that which is good; for though my mother was,
as I have just said, so good herself, nevertheless I, when I came to
the use of reason, did not derive so much good

from her as I ought to have doneâ€”almost none at all; and the evil
I learned did me much harm. She was very fond of books of chivalry;
but this pastime did not hurt her so much as it hurt me, because she
never wasted her time on them; only we, her children, were left at
liberty to read them; and perhaps she did this to distract her
thoughts from her great sufferings, and occupy her children, that they
might not go astray in other ways. It annoyed my father so much, that
we had to be careful he never saw us. I contracted a habit of reading
these books; and this little fault which I observed in my mother was
the beginning of lukewarmness in my good desires, and the occasion of
my falling away in other respects. I thought there was no harm in it
when I wasted many hours night and day in so vain an occupation, even
when I kept it a secret from my father. So completely was I mastered
by this passion, that I thought I could never be happy without a
new book.

2. I began to make much of dress, to wish to
please others by my appearance. I took pains with my hands and my
hair, used perfumes, and all vanities within my reachâ€”and they were
many, for I was very much given to them. I had no evil intention,
because I never wished any one to offend God for me. This
fastidiousness of
excessive neatness[93] lasted
some years; and so also did other practices, which I thought then were
not at all sinful; now, I see how wrong all this must have been.

3. I had some cousins; for into my father's
house no others were allowed an entrance. In this he was very
cautious; and would to God he had been cautious

about them!â€”for I see now the danger of conversing, at an age when
virtue should begin to grow, with persons who, knowing nothing
themselves of the vanity of the world, provoke others to throw
themselves into the midst of it. These cousins were nearly of mine
own ageâ€”a little older, perhaps. We were always together; and they
had a great affection for me. In everything that gave them pleasure,
I kept the conversation alive,â€”listened to the stories of their
affections and childish follies, good for nothing; and, what was still
worse, my soul began to give itself up to that which was the cause of
all its disorders. If I were to give advice, I would say to parents
that they ought to be very careful whom they allow to mix with their
children when young; for much mischief thence ensues, and our natural
inclinations are unto evil rather than unto good.

4. So it was with me; for I had a sister much
older than myself,[94] from whose modesty and
goodness, which were great, I learned nothing; and learned every evil
from a relative who was often in the house. She was so light and
frivolous, that my mother took great pains to keep her out of the
house, as if she foresaw the evil I should learn from her; but she
could not succeed, there being so many reasons for her coming. I was
very fond of this person's company, gossiped and talked with her; for
she helped me in all the amusements I liked, and, what is more, found
some for me, and communicated to me her own conversations and her
vanities. Until I knew her, I mean, until she became friendly with
me, and communicated to me her own affairsâ€”I was then about fourteen
years old, a little more, I thinkâ€”I do not believe that I turned away
from God in mortal sin, or lost the fear of Him, though I had a
greater fear of disgrace. This

latter fear had such sway over me, that I never wholly forfeited my
good nameâ€”and, as to that, there was nothing in the world for which I
would have bartered it, and nobody in the world I liked well enough
who could have persuaded me to do it. Thus I might have had the
strength never to do anything against the honour of God, as I had it
by nature not to fail in that wherein I thought the honour of the
world consisted; and I never observed that I was failing in many other
ways. In vainly seeking after it I was extremely careful; but in the
use of the means necessary for preserving it I was utterly careless.
I was anxious only not to be lost altogether.

5. This friendship distressed my father and
sister exceedingly. They often blamed me for it; but, as they could
not hinder that person from coming into the house, all their efforts
were in vain; for I was very adroit in doing anything that was wrong.
Now and then, I am amazed at the evil one bad companion can do,â€”nor
could I believe it if I did not know it by experience,â€”especially
when we are young: then is it that the evil must be greatest. Oh,
that parents would take warning by me, and look carefully to this! So
it was; the conversation of this person so changed me, that no trace
was left of my soul's natural disposition to virtue, and I became a
reflection of her and of another who was given to the same kind
of amusements.

6. I know from this the great advantage of good
companions; and I am certain that if at that tender age I had been
thrown among good people, I should have persevered in virtue; for if
at that time I had found any one to teach me the fear of God, my soul
would have grown strong enough not to fall away. Afterwards, when the
fear of God had utterly departed from me, the fear of dishonour alone
remained, and was a torment to me in all I did. When I thought that
nobody would ever know, I ventured upon many

things that were neither honourable nor pleasing unto God.

7. In the beginning, these conversations did me
harmâ€”I believe so. The fault was perhaps not hers, but mine; for
afterwards my own wickedness was enough to lead me astray, together
with the servants about me, whom I found ready enough for all evil.
If any one of these had given me good advice, I might perhaps have
profited by it; but they were blinded by interest, as I was by
passion. Still, I was never inclined to much evil,â€”for I hated
naturally anything dishonourable,â€”but only to the amusement of a
pleasant conversation. The occasion of sin, however, being present,
danger was at hand, and I exposed to it my father and brothers. God
delivered me out of it all, so that I should not be lost, in a manner
visibly against my will, yet not so secretly as to allow me to escape
without the loss of my good name and the suspicions of my father.

8. I had not spent, I think, three months in
these vanities, when they took me to a
monastery[95] in the city where I lived, in
which children like myself were brought up, though their way of life
was not so wicked as mine. This was done with the utmost concealment
of the true reason, which was known only to myself and one of my
kindred. They waited for an opportunity which would make the change
seem nothing out of the way; for, as my sister was married, it was not
fitting I should remain alone, without a mother, in the house.

9. So excessive was my father's love for me, and
so deep my dissembling, that he never would believe me to be so wicked
as I was; and hence I was never in disgrace with him. Though some
remarks were made, yet, as the time had been short, nothing could
be

positively asserted; and, as I was so much afraid about my good
name, I had taken every care to be secret; and yet I never considered
that I could conceal nothing from Him Who seeth all things. O my God,
what evil is done in the world by disregarding this, and thinking that
anything can be kept secret that is done against Thee! I am quite
certain that great evils would be avoided if we clearly understood
that what we have to do is, not to be on our guard against men, but on
our guard against displeasing Thee.

10. For the first eight days, I suffered much;
but more from the suspicion that my vanity was known, than from being
in the monastery; for I was already weary of myselfâ€”and, though I
offended God, I never ceased to have a great fear of Him, and
contrived to go to confession as quickly as I could. I was very
uncomfortable; but within eight days, I think sooner, I was much more
contented than I had been in my father's house. All the nuns were
pleased with me; for our Lord had given me the grace to please every
one, wherever I might be. I was therefore made much of in the
monastery. Though at this time I hated to be a nun, yet I was
delighted at the sight of nuns so good; for they were very good in
that houseâ€”very prudent, observant of the rule, and recollected.

11. Yet, for all this, the devil did not cease
to tempt me; and people in the world sought means to trouble my rest
with messages and presents. As this could not be allowed, it was soon
over, and my soul began to return to the good habits of my earlier
years; and I recognized the great mercy of God to those whom He places
among good people. It seems as if His Majesty had sought and sought
again how to convert me to Himself. Blessed be Thou, O Lord, for
having borne with me so long! Amen.

12. Were it not for my many faults, there was
some excuse for me, I think, in this: that the conversation I shared
in was with one who, I thought, would do well in

the estate
of matrimony;[96] and I was told
by my confessors, and others also, whom in many points I consulted,
used to say, that I was not offending God. One of the
nuns[97] slept with us who were seculars, and
through her it pleased our Lord to give me light, as I shall
now explain.

The Life

Chapter III

The Blessing of Being with Good People. How Certain Illusions
Were Removed.

I began gradually to like the good and holy
conversation of this nun. How well she used to speak of God! for she
was a person of great discretion and sanctity. I listened to her with
delight. I think there never was a time when I was not glad to listen
to her. She began by telling me how she came to be a nun through the
mere reading of the words of the Gospel "Many are called, and few
are chosen."[98] She would speak of the
reward which our Lord gives to those who forsake all things for His
sake. This good companionship began to root out the habits which bad
companionship had formed, and to bring my thoughts back to the desire
of eternal things, as well as to banish in some measure the great
dislike I had to be a nun, which had been very great; and if I saw any
one weep in prayer, or devout in any other way, I envied her very
much; for my heart was now so hard, that I could not shed a tear, even
if I read the Passion through. This was a grief to me.

2. I remained in the monastery a year and a
half, and was very much the better for it. I began to say many vocal
prayers, and to ask all the nuns to pray for me, that God would place
me in that state wherein I was to serve Him; but, for all this, I
wished not to be a nun, and that God would not be pleased I should be
one, though at the same time I was afraid of marriage. At the end of
my stay there, I had a greater inclination to be a nun, yet not in
that house, on account of certain devotional practices which I
understood prevailed there, and which I thought overstrained. Some of
the younger ones encouraged me in this my wish; and if all had been of
one mind, I might have profited by it. I had also a great
friend[99] in another monastery; and this made
me resolve, if I was to be a nun, not to be one in any other house
than where she was. I looked more to the pleasure of sense and vanity
than to the good of my soul. These good thoughts of being a nun came
to me from time to time. They left me very soon; and I could not
persuade myself to become one.

3. At this time, though I was not careless about
my own good, our Lord was much more careful to dispose me for that
state of life which was best for me. He sent me a serious illness, so
that I was obliged to return to my father's house.

4. When I became well again, they took me to see
my sister[100] in her house in the country
village where she dwelt. Her love for me was so great, that, if she
had had her will, I should never have left her. Her husband also had
a great affection for meâ€”at least, he showed me all kindness. This
too I owe rather to our Lord, for I have received kindness everywhere;
and all my service in return is, that I am what I am.

5. On the road lived a brother of my
father[101]â€”a prudent and most excellent man,
then a widower. Him too our Lord was preparing for Himself. In his
old age, he left all his possessions and became a religious. He so
finished his course, that I believe him to have the vision of God. He
would have me stay with him some days. His practice was to read good
books in Spanish; and his ordinary conversation was about God and the
vanity of the world. These books he made me read to him; and, though I
did not much like them, I appeared as if I did; for in giving pleasure
to others I have been most particular, though it might be painful to
myselfâ€”so much so, that what in others might have been a virtue was
in me a great fault, because I was often extremely indiscreet. O my
God, in how many ways did His Majesty prepare me for the state wherein
it was His will I should serve Him!â€”how, against my own will, He
constrained me to do violence to myself! May He be blessed for
ever! Amen.

6. Though I remained here but a few days, yet,
through the impression made on my heart by the words of God both heard
and read, and by the good conversation of my uncle, I came to
understand the truth I had heard in my childhood, that all things are
as nothing, the world vanity, and passing rapidly away. I also began
to be afraid that, if I were then to die, I should go down to hell.
Though I could not bend my will to be a nun, I saw that the religious
state was the best and the safest. And thus, by little and little, I
resolved to force myself into it.

7. The struggle lasted three months. I used to
press this reason against myself: The trials and sufferings of living
as a nun cannot be greater than those of purgatory, and I have well
deserved to be in hell. It is not much to spend the rest of my life
as if I were in purgatory, and then go straight to Heavenâ€”which was what I desired. I was more influenced by servile fear, I
think, than by love, to enter religion.

8. The devil put before me that I could not
endure the trials of the religious life, because of my delicate
nature. I defended myself against him by alleging the trials which
Christ endured, and that it was not much for me to suffer something
for His sake; besides, He would help me to bear it. I must have
thought so, but I do not remember this consideration. I endured many
temptations during these days. I was subject to fainting-fits,
attended with fever,â€”for my health was always weak. I had become by
this time fond of good books, and that gave me life. I read the
Epistles of St. Jerome, which filled me
with so much courage, that I resolved to tell my father of my
purpose,â€”which was almost like taking the habit; for I was so jealous
of my word, that I would never, for any consideration, recede from a
promise when once my word had been given.

9. My father's love for me was so great, that I
could never obtain his consent; nor could the prayers of others, whom
I persuaded to speak to him, be of any avail. The utmost I could get
from him was that I might do as I pleased after his death. I now
began to be afraid of myself, and of my own weaknessâ€”for I might go
back. So, considering that such waiting was not safe for me, I
obtained my end in another way, as I shall now relate.

The Life

Chapter IV

Our Lord Helps Her to Become a Nun. Her Many
Infirmities.

In those days, when I was thus resolved, I
had persuaded one of
my brothers,[102] by
speaking to him of the vanity of the world, to become a friar; and we
agreed together to set out one day very early in the morning for the
monastery where that friend of mine lived for whom I had so great an
affection:[103] though I would have gone to any
other monastery, if I thought I should serve God better in it, or to
any one my father liked, so strong was my resolution now to become a
nunâ€”for I thought more of the salvation of my soul now, and made no
account whatever of mine own ease. I remember perfectly well, and it
is quite true, that the pain I felt when I left my father's house was
so great, that I do not believe the pain of dying will be greaterâ€”for
it seemed to me as if every bone in my body were wrenched
asunder;[104] for, as I had no love of God to
destroy my love of father and of kindred, this latter love came upon
me with a violence so great that, if our Lord had not been my keeper,
my own resolution to go on would have failed me. But He gave me
courage to fight against myself, so that I executed
my purpose.[105]

2. When I took the
habit,[106] our Lord at once made me understand
how He helps those who do violence to themselves in order to serve
Him. No one observed this violence in me; they saw nothing but the
greatest good will. At that moment, because I was entering on that
state, I was filled with a joy so great, that it has never failed me
to this day; and God converted the aridity of my soul into the
greatest tenderness. Everything in religion was a delight unto me;
and it is true that now and then I used to sweep the house during
those hours of the day which I had formerly spent on my amusements and
my dress; and, calling to mind that I was delivered from such follies,
I was filled with a new joy that surprised me, nor could I understand
whence it came.

3. Whenever I remember this, there is nothing in
the world, however hard it may be, that, if it were proposed to me, I
would not undertake without any hesitation whatever; for I know now,
by experience in many things, that if from the first I resolutely
persevere in my purpose, even in this life His Majesty rewards it in a
way which he only understands who has tried it. When the act is done
for God only, it is His will before we begin it that the soul, in
order to the increase of its merits, should be afraid; and the greater
the fear, if we do but succeed, the greater the reward, and the
sweetness thence afterwards resulting. I know this by experience, as
I have just said, in many serious affairs; and so, if I were a person
who had to advise anybody, I would never counsel any one, to whom good
inspirations from time to time may come, to resist them through fear
of the difficulty of carrying them into effect; for if a person lives
detached for the love of God only, that is no reason for being afraid
of failure,

for He is omnipotent. May He be blessed for ever! Amen.

4. O supreme Good, and my Rest, those graces
ought to have been enough which Thou hadst given me hitherto, seeing
that Thy compassion and greatness had drawn me through so many
windings to a state so secure, to a house where there are so many
servants of God, from whom I might learn how I may advance in Thy
service. I know not how to go on, when I call to mind the
circumstances of my profession, the great resolution and joy with
which I made it, and my betrothal unto Thee. I cannot speak of it
without tears; and my tears ought to be tears of blood, my heart ought
to break, and that would not be much to suffer because of the many
offences against Thee which I have committed since that day. It seems
to me now that I had good reasons for not wishing for this dignity,
seeing that I have made so sad a use of it. But Thou, O my Lord, hast
been willing to bear with me for almost twenty years of my evil using
of Thy graces, till I might become better. It seems to me, O my God,
that I did nothing but promise never to keep any of the promises then
made to Thee. Yet such was not my intention: but I see that what I
have done since is of such a nature, that I know not what my intention
was. So it was and so it happened, that it may be the better known, O
my Bridegroom, Who Thou art and what I am.

5. It is certainly true that very frequently the
joy I have in that the multitude of Thy mercies is made known in me,
softens the bitter sense of my great faults. In whom, O Lord, can
they shine forth as they do in me, who by my evil deeds have shrouded
in darkness Thy great graces, which Thou hadst begun to work in me?
Woe is me, O my Maker! If I would make an excuse, I have none to
offer; and I only am to blame. For if I could return to Thee any
portion of that love which Thou hadst begun to show unto me, I would
give it only unto Thee, and then everything would have been

safe. But, as I have not deserved this, nor been so happy as to
have done it, let Thy mercy, O Lord, rest upon me.

6. The change in the habits of my life, and in
my food, proved hurtful to my health; and though my happiness was
great, that was not enough. The fainting-fits began to be more
frequent; and my heart was so seriously affected, that every one who
saw it was alarmed; and I had also many other ailments. And thus it
was I spent the first year, having very bad health, though I do not
think I offended God in it much. And as my illness was so seriousâ€”I
was almost insensible at all times, and frequently wholly soâ€”my
father took great pains to find some relief; and as the physicians who
attended me had none to give, he had me taken to a place which had a
great reputation for the cure of other infirmities. They said I
should find relief there.[107] That friend of
whom I have spoken as being in the house went with me. She was one of
the elder nuns. In the house where I was a nun, there was no vow
of enclosure.[108]

7. I remained there nearly a year, for three
months of it suffering most cruel torturesâ€”effects of the violent
remedies which they applied. I know not how I endured them; and
indeed, though I submitted myself to them, they were, as I shall
relate,[109] more than my constitution
could bear.

8. I was to begin the treatment in the spring,
and went thither when winter commenced. The intervening time I spent
with my sister, of whom I
spoke before,[110] in
her house in the country, waiting for the

month of April, which was drawing near, that I might not have to go
and return. The uncle of whom I have made mention
before,[111] and whose house was on our road,
gave me a book called Tercer
Abecedario,[112] which treats of the
prayer of recollection. Though in the first year I had read good
booksâ€”for I would read no others, because I understood now the harm
they had done meâ€”I did not know how to make my prayer, nor how to
recollect myself. I was therefore much pleased with the book, and
resolved to follow the way of prayer it described with all my might.
And as our Lord had already bestowed upon me the gift of tears, and I
found pleasure in reading, I began to spend a certain time in
solitude, to go frequently to confession, and make a beginning of that
way of prayer, with this book for my guide; for I had no masterâ€”I
mean, no confessorâ€”who understood me, though I sought for such a one
for twenty years afterwards: which did me much harm, in that I
frequently went backwards, and might have been even utterly lost; for,
anyhow, a director would have helped me to escape the risks I ran of
sinning against God.

9. From the very beginning, God was most
gracious unto me. Though I was not so free from sin as the book
required, I passed that by; such watchfulness seemed to me almost
impossible. I was on my guard against mortal sinâ€”and would to God I
had always been so!â€”but I was careless about venial sins, and that
was my ruin. Yet, for all this, at the end of my stay thereâ€”I spent
nearly nine months in the practice of solitudeâ€”our Lord began to
comfort me so much in this way of prayer, as in His mercy to raise me
to the prayer of quiet, and now and then to that of union, though I
understood not what either the one or the other was, nor the great
esteem I ought to have had of

them. I believe it would have been a great blessing to me if I had
understood the matter. It is true that the prayer of union lasted but
a short time: I know not if it continued for the space of an Ave Maria; but the fruits of it remained; and they were
such that, though I was then not twenty years of age, I seemed to
despise the world utterly; and so I remember how sorry I was for those
who followed its ways, though only in things lawful.

10. I used to labour with all my might to
imagine Jesus Christ, our Good and our Lord, present within me. And
this was the way I prayed. If I meditated on any mystery of His life,
I represented it to myself as within me, though the greater part of my
time I spent in reading good books, which was all my comfort; for God
never endowed me with the gift of making reflections with the
understanding, or with that of using the imagination to any good
purpose: my imagination is
so sluggish,[113]
that even if I would think of, or picture to myself, as I used to
labour to picture, our Lord's Humanity, I never could do it.

11. And though men may attain more quickly to
the state of contemplation, if they persevere, by this way of
inability to exert the intellect, yet is the process more laborious
and painful; for if the will have nothing to occupy it, and if love
have no present object to rest on, the soul is without support and
without employmentâ€”its isolation and dryness occasion great pain, and
the thoughts assail it most grievously. Persons in this condition
must have greater purity of conscience than those who can make use of
their understanding; for he who can use his intellect in the way of
meditation on what the world is, on what he owes to God, on the great
sufferings of God for him, his own scanty service in return, and on
the reward God reserves for those who love Him, learns how to defend
himself against his own

thoughts, and against the occasions and perils of sin. On the
other hand, he who has not that power is in greater danger, and ought
to occupy himself much in reading, seeing that he is not in the
slightest degree able to help himself.

12. This way of proceeding is so exceedingly
painful, that if the master who teaches it insists on cutting off the
succours which reading gives, and requires the spending of much time
in prayer, then, I say, it will be impossible to persevere long in it:
and if he persists in his plan, health will be ruined, because it is a
most painful process. Reading is of great service towards procuring
recollection in any one who proceeds in this way; and it is even
necessary for him, however little it may be that he reads, if only as
a substitute for the mental prayer
which is beyond his reach.

13. Now I seem to understand that it was the
good providence of our Lord over me that found no one to teach me. If
I had, it would have been impossible for me to persevere during the
eighteen years of my trial and of those great aridities because of my
inability to meditate. During all this time, it was only after
Communion that I ever ventured to begin my prayer without a bookâ€”my
soul was as much afraid to pray without one, as if it had to fight
against a host. With a book to help meâ€”it was like a companion, and
a shield whereon to receive the blows of many thoughtsâ€”I found
comfort; for it was not usual with me to be in aridity: but I always
was so when I had no book; for my soul was disturbed, and my thoughts
wandered at once. With one, I began to collect my thoughts, and,
using it as a decoy, kept my soul in peace, very frequently by merely
opening a bookâ€”there was no necessity for more. Sometimes, I read
but little; at other times, muchâ€”according as our Lord had pity
on me.

14. It seemed to me, in these beginnings of
which I am speaking, that there could be no danger capable of

withdrawing me from so great a blessing, if I had but books, and
could have remained alone; and I believe that, by the grace of God, it
would have been so, if I had had a master or any one to warn me
against those occasions of sin in the beginning, and, if I fell, to
bring me quickly out of them. If the devil had assailed me openly
then, I believe I should never have fallen into any grievous sin; but
he was so subtle, and I so weak, that all my good resolutions were of
little serviceâ€”though, in those days in which I served God, they were
very profitable in enabling me, with that patience which His Majesty
gave me, to endure the alarming illnesses which I had to bear. I have
often thought with wonder of the great goodness of God; and my soul
has rejoiced in the contemplation of His great magnificence and mercy.
May He be blessed for ever!â€”for I see clearly that He has not omitted
to reward me, even in this life, for every one of my good desires. My
good works, however wretched and imperfect, have been made better and
perfected by Him Who is my Lord: He has rendered them meritorious. As
to my evil deeds and my sins, He hid them at once. The eyes of those
who saw them, He made even blind; and He has blotted them out of their
memory. He gilds my faults, makes virtue to shine forth, giving it to
me Himself, and compelling me to possess it, as it were, by force.

15. I must now return to that which has been
enjoined me. I say, that if I had to describe minutely how our Lord
dealt with me in the beginning, it would be necessary for me to have
another understanding than that I have: so that I might be able to
appreciate what I owe to Him, together with my own ingratitude and
wickedness; for I have forgotten it all.

May He be blessed for ever Who has borne with me so
long! Amen.

The Life

Chapter V

Illness and Patience of the Saint. The Story of a Priest Whom
She Rescued from a Life of Sin.

I forgot to say how, in the year of my
novitiate, I suffered much uneasiness about things in themselves of no
importance; but I was found fault with very often when I was
blameless. I bore it painfully and with imperfection; however, I went
through it all, because of the joy I had in being a nun. When they
saw me seeking to be alone, and even weeping over my sins at times,
they thought I was discontented, and said so.

2. All religious observances had an attraction
for me, but I could not endure any which seemed to make me
contemptible. I delighted in being thought well of by others, and was
very exact in everything I had to do. All this I thought was a
virtue, though it will not serve as any excuse for me, because I knew
what it was to procure my own satisfaction in everything, and so
ignorance does not blot out the blame. There may be some excuse in
the fact that the monastery was not founded in great perfection. I,
wicked as I was, followed after that which I saw was wrong, and
neglected that which was good.

3. There was then in the house a nun labouring
under a most grievous and painful disorder, for there were open ulcers
in her body, caused by certain obstructions, through which her food
was rejected. Of this sickness she soon died. All the sisters, I
saw, were afraid of her malady. I envied her patience very much; I
prayed to God that He would give me a like patience; and then,
whatever sickness it might be His pleasure to send, I do not think I
was afraid of any, for I was resolved on gaining eternal good, and
determined to gain it by any and by every means.

4. I am surprised at myself, because then I had
not, as I believe, that love of God which I think I had after

I began to pray. Then, I had only light to see that all things
that pass away are to be lightly esteemed, and that the good things to
be gained by despising them are of great price, because they are for
ever. His Majesty heard me also in this, for in less than two years I
was so afflicted myself that the illness which I had, though of a
different kind from that of the sister, was, I really believe, not
less painful and trying for the three years it lasted, as I shall now
relate.

5. When the time had come for which I was
waiting in the place I spoke
of before[114]â€”I
was in my sister's house, for the purpose of undergoing the medical
treatmentâ€”they took me away with the utmost care of my comfort; that
is, my father, my sister, and the nun, my friend, who had come from
the monastery with me,â€”for her love for me was very great. At that
moment, Satan began to trouble my soul; God, however, brought forth a
great blessing out of that trouble.

6. In the place to which I had gone for my cure
lived a priest of good birth and understanding, with some learning,
but not much. I went to confession to him, for I was always fond of
learned men, although confessors indifferently learned did my soul
much harm; for I did not always find confessors whose learning was as
good as I could wish it was. I know by experience that it is better,
if the confessors are good men and of holy lives, that they should
have no learning at all, than a little; for such confessors never
trust themselves without consulting those who are learnedâ€”nor would I
trust them myself: and a really learned confessor never deceived
me.[115] Neither did the others

willingly deceive me, only they knew no better; I thought they were
learned, and that I was not under any other obligation than that of
believing them, as their instructions to me were lax, and left me more
at libertyâ€”for if they had been strict with me, I am so wicked, I
should have sought for others. That which was a venial sin, they told
me was no sin at all; of that which was most grievously mortal, they
said it was venial.[116]

7. This did me so much harm, that it is no
wonder I should speak of it here as a warning to others, that they may
avoid an evil so great; for I see clearly that in the eyes of God I
was without excuse, that the things I did being in themselves not
good, this should have been enough to keep me from them. I believe
that God, by reason of my sins, allowed those confessors to deceive
themselves and to deceive me. I myself deceived many others by saying
to them what had been said to me.

8. I continued in this blindness, I believe,
more than seventeen years, till a most learned Dominican
Father[117] undeceived me in part, and those of
the Company of Jesus made me altogether so afraid, by insisting on the
erroneousness of these principles, as I shall
hereafter show.[118]

9. I began, then, by going to confession to that
priest of whom I
spoke before.[119] He took an
extreme liking to me, because I had then but little to confess in
comparison with what I had afterwards; and I had never much to say
since I became a nun. There was no harm in the liking he had for me,
but it ceased to be good, because it was in excess. He clearly
understood that I was determined on no account whatever to do anything
whereby God might be seriously offended. He, too, gave me a like
assurance about himself, and accordingly our conferences were many.
But at that time, through the knowledge and fear of God which

filled my soul, what gave me most pleasure in all my conversations
with others was to speak of God; and, as I was so young, this made him
ashamed; and then, out of that great goodwill he bore me, he began to
tell me of his wretched state. It was very sad, for he had been nearly
seven years in a most perilous condition, because of his affection
for, and conversation with, a woman of that place; and yet he used to
say Mass. The matter was so public, that his honour and good name
were lost, and no one ventured to speak to him about it. I was
extremely sorry for him, because I liked him much. I was then so
imprudent and so blind as to think it a virtue to be grateful and
loyal to one who liked me. Cursed be that loyalty which reaches so
far as to go against the law of God. It is a madness common in the
world, and it makes me mad to see it. We are indebted to God for all
the good that men do to us, and yet we hold it to be an act of virtue
not to break a friendship of this kind, though it lead us to go
against Him. Oh, blindness of the world! Let me, O Lord, be most
ungrateful to the world; never at all unto Thee. But I have been
altogether otherwise through my sins.

10. I procured further information about the
matter from members of his household; I learned more of his ruinous
state, and saw that the poor man's fault was not so grave, because the
miserable woman had had recourse to enchantments, by giving him a
little image made of copper, which she had begged him to wear for love
of her around his neck; and this no one had influence enough to
persuade him to throw away. As to this matter of enchantments, I do
not believe it to be altogether true; but I will relate what I saw, by
way of warning to men to be on their guard against women who will do
things of this kind. And let them be assured of this, that womenâ€”for
they are more bound to purity than menâ€”if once they have lost all
shame before God, are in nothing whatever to be trusted; and

that in exchange for the gratification of their will, and of that
affection which the devil suggests, they will hesitate at nothing.

11. Though I have been so wicked myself, I
never fell into anything of this kind, nor did I ever attempt to do
evil; nor, if I had the power, would I have ever constrained any one
to like me, for our Lord kept me from this. But if He had abandoned
me, I should have done wrong in this, as I did in other thingsâ€”for
there is nothing in me whereon anyone may rely.

12. When I knew this, I began to show him
greater affection: my intention was good, but the act was wrong, for I
ought not to do the least wrong for the sake of any good, how great
soever it may be. I spoke to him most frequently of God; and this
must have done him goodâ€”though I believe that what touched him most
was his great affection for me, because, to do me a pleasure, he gave
me that little image of copper, and I had it at once thrown into a
river. When he had given it up, like a man roused from deep sleep, he
began to consider all that he had done in those years; and then,
amazed at himself, lamenting his ruinous state, that woman came to be
hateful in his eyes. Our Lady must have helped him greatly, for he
had a very great devotion to her Conception, and used to keep the
feast thereof with great solemnity. In short, he broke off all
relations with that woman utterly, and was never weary of giving God
thanks for the light He had given him; and at the end of the year from
the day I first saw him, he died.

13. He had been most diligent in the service of
God; and as for that great affection he had for me, I never observed
anything wrong in it, though it might have been of greater purity.
There were also occasions wherein he might have most grievously
offended, if he had not kept himself in the near presence of God.
As I said before,[120] I would not then have done
anything I

knew was a mortal sin. And I think that observing this resolution
in me helped him to have that affection for me; for I believe that all
men must have a greater affection for those women whom they see
disposed to be good; and even for the attainment of earthly ends,
women must have more power over men because they are good, as I shall
show hereafter. I am convinced that the priest is in the way of
salvation. He died most piously, and completely withdrawn from that
occasion of sin. It seems that it was the will of our Lord he should
be saved by these means.

14. I remained three months in that place, in
the most grievous sufferings; for the treatment was too severe for my
constitution. In two monthsâ€”so strong were the medicinesâ€”my life
was nearly worn out; and the severity of the pain in the
heart,[121] for the cure of which I was there was
much more keen: it seemed to me, now and then, as if it had been
seized by sharp teeth. So great was the torment, that it was feared
it might end in madness. There was a great loss of strength, for I
could eat nothing whatever, only drink. I had a great loathing for
food, and a fever that never left me. I was so reduced, for they had
given me purgatives daily for nearly a month, and so parched up, that
my sinews began to shrink. The pains I had were unendurable, and I
was overwhelmed in a most deep sadness, so that I had no rest either
night or day.

15. This was the result; and thereupon my
father took me back. Then the physicians visited me again. All gave
me up; they said I was also consumptive. This gave me little or no
concern; what distressed me were the pains I hadâ€”for I was in pain
from my head down to my feet. Now, nervous pains, according to the
physicians, are intolerable; and all my nerves were shrunk.
Certainly, if I had not brought this upon myself by my sins, the
torture would have been unendurable.

16. I was not more than three months in this
cruel distress, for it seemed impossible that so many ills could be
borne together. I now am astonished at myself, and the patience His
Majesty gave meâ€”for it clearly came from Himâ€”I look upon as a great
mercy of our Lord. It was a great help to me to be patient, that I
had read the story of Job, in the Morals of St. Gregory (our Lord seems to have prepared me
thereby); and that I had begun the practice of prayer, so that I might
bear it all, conforming my will to the will of God. All my
conversation was with God. I had continually these words of Job in my
thoughts and in my mouth: "If we have received good things of the
hand of our Lord, why should we not receive evil
things?"[122] This seemed to give
me courage.

17. The feast of our Lady, in August, came
round; from April until then I had been in great pain, but more
especially during the last three months. I made haste to go to
confession, for I had always been very fond of frequent confession.
They thought I was driven by the fear of death; and so my father, in
order to quiet me, would not suffer me to go. Oh, the unreasonable
love of flesh and blood! Though it was that of a father so Catholic
and so wiseâ€”he was very much so, and this act of his could not be the
effect of any ignorance on his partâ€”what evil it might have
done me!

18. That very night my sickness became so
acute, that for about four days I remained insensible. They
administered the Sacrament of the last Anointing, and every hour, or
rather every moment, thought I was dying; they did nothing but repeat
the Credo, as if I could have understood anything
they said. They must have regarded me as dead more than once, for I
found afterwards drops of wax on my eyelids. My father, because he
had not allowed me to go to confession, was grievously distressed.
Loud cries and many

prayers were made to God: blessed be He Who heard them.

19. For a day-and-a-half the grave was open in
my monastery, waiting for
my body;[123] and the
Friars of our Order, in a house at some distance from this place,
performed funeral solemnities. But it pleased our Lord I should come
to myself. I wished to go to confession at once. I communicated with
many tears; but I do not think those tears had their source in that
pain and sorrow only for having offended God, which might have
sufficed for my salvationâ€”unless, indeed, the delusion which I
laboured under were some excuse for me, and into which I had been led
by those who had told me that some things were not mortal sins which
afterwards I found were so certainly.

20. Though my sufferings were unendurable, and
my perceptions dull, yet my confession, I believe, was complete as to
all matters wherein I understood myself to have offended God. This
grace, among others, did His Majesty bestow on me, that ever since my
first Communion never in confession have I failed to confess anything
I thought to be a sin, though it might be only a venial sin. But I
think that undoubtedly my salvation was in great peril, if I had died
at that timeâ€”partly because my confessors were so unlearned, and
partly because I was so very wicked. It is certainly true that when I
think of it, and consider how our Lord seems to have raised me up from
the dead, I am so filled with wonder, that I almost tremble
with fear.[124]

21. And now, O my soul, it were well for thee
to look that danger in the face from which our Lord delivered thee;
and if thou dost not cease to offend Him

out of love thou shouldst do so out of fear. He might have slain
thee a thousand times, and in a far more perilous state. I believe I
exaggerate nothing if I say a thousand times again, though he may
rebuke me who has commanded me to restrain myself in recounting my
sins; and they are glossed over enough. I pray him, for the love of
God, not to suppress one of my faults, because herein shines forth the
magnificence of God, as well as His long-suffering towards souls. May
He be blessed for evermore, and destroy me utterly, rather than let me
cease to love Him any more!

The Life

Chapter VI

The Great Debt She Owed to Our Lord for His Mercy to Her. She
Takes St. Joseph for Her Patron.

After those four days, during which I was
insensible, so great was my distress, that our Lord alone knoweth the
intolerable sufferings I endured. My tongue was bitten to pieces;
there was a choking in my throat because I had taken nothing, and
because of my weakness, so that I could not swallow even a drop of
water; all my bones seemed to be out of joint, and the disorder of my
head was extreme. I was bent together like a coil of ropesâ€”for to
this was I brought by the torture of those daysâ€”unable to move either
arm, or foot, or hand, or head, any more than if I had been dead,
unless others moved me; I could move, however, I think, one finger of
my right hand. Then, as to touching me, that was impossible, for I
was so bruised that I could not endure it. They used to move me in a
sheet, one holding one end, and another the other. This lasted till
Palm Sunday.[125]

2. The only comfort I had was thisâ€”if no one
came near me, my pains frequently ceased; and then, because I had a
little rest, I considered myself well, for I was afraid my patience
would fail: and thus I was exceedingly happy when I saw myself free
from those pains which were so sharp and constant, though in the cold
fits of an intermittent fever, which were most violent, they were
still unendurable. My dislike of food was very great.

3. I was now so anxious to return to my
monastery, that I had myself conveyed thither in the state I was in.
There they received alive one whom they had waited for as dead; but
her body was worse than dead: the sight of it could only give pain.
It is impossible to describe my extreme weakness, for I was nothing
but bones. I remained in this state, as I have already
said,[126] more than eight months; and was
paralytic, though getting better, for about three years. I praised
God when I began to crawl on my hands and knees. I bore all this with
great resignation, and, if I except the beginning of my illness, with
great joy; for all this was as nothing in comparison with the pains
and tortures I had to bear at first. I was resigned to the will of
God, even if He left me in this state for ever. My anxiety about the
recovery of my health seemed to be grounded on my desire to pray in
solitude, as I had been taught; for there were no means of doing so in
the infirmary. I went to confession most frequently, spoke much about
God, and in such a way as to edify everyone; and they all marvelled at
the patience which our Lord gave meâ€”for if it had not come from the
hand of His Majesty, it seemed

impossible to endure so great an affliction with so great
a joy.

4. It was a great thing for me to have had the
grace of prayer which God had wrought in me; it made me understand
what it is to love Him. In a little while, I saw these virtues
renewed within me; still they were not strong, for they were not
sufficient to sustain me in justice. I never spoke ill in the
slightest degree whatever of any one, and my ordinary practice was to
avoid all detraction; for I used to keep most carefully in mind that I
ought not to assent to, nor say of another, anything I should not like
to have said of myself. I was extremely careful to keep this
resolution on all occasions though not so perfectly, upon some great
occasions that presented themselves, as not to break it sometimes.
But my ordinary practice was this: and thus those who were about me,
and those with whom I conversed, became so convinced that it was
right, that they adopted it as a habit. It came to be understood that
where I was, absent persons were safe; so they were also with my
friends and kindred, and with those whom I instructed. Still, for all
this, I have a strict account to give unto God for the bad example I
gave in other respects. May it please His Majesty to forgive me, for
I have been the cause of much evil; though not with intentions as
perverse as were the acts that followed.

5. The longing for solitude remained, and I
loved to discourse and speak of God; for if I found any one with whom
I could do so, it was a greater joy and satisfaction to me than all
the refinementsâ€”or rather to speak more correctly, the real
rudenessâ€”of the world's conversation. I communicated and confessed
more frequently still, and desired to do so; I was extremely fond of
reading good books; I was most deeply penitent for having offended
God; and I remember that very often I did not dare to pray, because I
was afraid of that most bitter anguish which

I felt for having offended God, dreading it as a great
chastisement. This grew upon me afterwards to so great a degree, that
I know of no torment wherewith to compare it; and yet it was neither
more nor less because of any fear I had at any time, for it came upon
me only when I remembered the consolations of our Lord which He gave
me in prayer, the great debt I owed Him, the evil return I made: I
could not bear it. I was also extremely angry with myself on account
of the many tears I shed for my faults, when I saw how little I
improved, seeing that neither my good resolutions, nor the pains I
took, were sufficient to keep me from falling whenever I had the
opportunity. I looked on my tears as a delusion; and my faults,
therefore, I regarded as the more grievous, because I saw the great
goodness of our Lord to me in the shedding of those tears, and
together with them such deep compunction.

6. I took care to go to confession as soon as I
could; and, as I think, did all that was possible on my part to return
to a state of grace. But the whole evil lay in my not thoroughly
avoiding the occasions of sin, and in my confessors, who helped me so
little. If they had told me that I was travelling on a dangerous
road, and that I was bound to abstain from those conversations, I
believe, without any doubt, that the matter would have been remedied,
because I could not bear to remain even for one day in mortal sin, if
I knew it.

7. All these tokens of the fear of God came to
me through prayer; and the greatest of them was this, that fear was
swallowed up of loveâ€”for I never thought of chastisement. All the
time I was so ill, my strict watch over my conscience reached to all
that is mortal sin.

8. O my God! I wished for health, that I might
serve Thee better; that was the cause of all my ruin. For when I saw
how helpless I was through paralysis, being still so young, and how
the physicians of this

world had dealt with me, I determined to ask those of heaven to
heal meâ€”for I wished, nevertheless, to be well, though I bore my
illness with great joy. Sometimes, too, I used to think that if I
recovered my health, and yet were lost for ever, I was better as I
was. But, for all that, I thought I might serve God much better if I
were well. This is our delusion; we do not resign ourselves
absolutely to the disposition of our Lord, Who knows best what is for
our good.

9. I began by having Masses and prayers said for
my intentionâ€”prayers that were highly sanctioned; for I never liked
those other devotions which some people, especially women, make use of
with a ceremoniousness to me intolerable, but which move them to be
devout. I have been given to understand since that they were unseemly
and superstitious; and I took for my patron and lord the glorious
St. Joseph, and recommended myself
earnestly to him. I saw clearly that both out of this my present
trouble, and out of others of greater importance, relating to my
honour and the loss of my soul, this my father and lord delivered me,
and rendered me greater services than I knew how to ask for. I cannot
call to mind that I have ever asked him at any time for anything which
he has not granted; and I am filled with amazement when I consider the
great favours which God hath given me through this blessed Saint; the
dangers from which he hath delivered me, both of body and of soul. To
other Saints, our Lord seems to have given grace to succour men in
some special necessity; but to this glorious Saint, I know by
experience, to help us in all: and our Lord would have us understand
that as He was Himself subject to him upon earthâ€”for St. Joseph having the title of father, and being
His guardian, could command Himâ€”so now in heaven He performs all his
petitions. I have asked others to recommend themselves to St. Joseph, and they too know this by experience;
and

there are many who are now of late devout to
him,[127] having had experience of
this truth.

10. I used to keep his feast with all the
solemnity I could, but with more vanity than spirituality, seeking
rather too much splendour and effect, and yet with good intentions. I
had this evil in me, that if our Lord gave me grace to do any good,
that good became full of imperfections and of many faults; but as for
doing wrong, the indulgence of curiosity and vanity, I was very
skilful and active therein. Our Lord forgive me!

11. Would that I could persuade all men to be
devout to this glorious Saint; for I know by long experience what
blessings he can obtain for us from God. I have never known any one
who was really devout to him, and who honoured him by particular
services, who did not visibly grow more and more in virtue; for he
helps in a special way those souls who commend themselves to him. It
is now some years since I have always on his feast asked him for
something, and I always have it. If the petition be in any way amiss,
he directs it aright for my greater good.

12. If I were a person who had authority to
write, it would be a pleasure to me to be diffusive in speaking most
minutely of the graces which this glorious Saint has obtained for me
and for others. But that I may not go beyond the commandment that is
laid upon me, I must in many things be more brief than I could wish,
and more diffusive than is necessary in others; for, in short, I am a
person who, in all that is good, has but little discretion. But I
ask, for the love of God, that he who does not believe me will make
the trial for himselfâ€”when he will see by experience the great
good

that results from commending oneself to this glorious patriarch,
and being devout to him. Those who give themselves to prayer should
in a special manner have always a devotion to St. Joseph; for I know not how any man can think
of the Queen of the angels, during the time that she suffered so much
with the Infant Jesus, without giving thanks to St. Joseph for the services he rendered them
then. He who cannot find any one to teach him how to pray, let him
take this glorious Saint for his master, and he will not wander out of
the way.

13. May it please our Lord that I have not done
amiss in venturing to speak about St.
Joseph; for, though I publicly profess my devotion to him, I have
always failed in my service to him and imitation of him. He was like
himself when he made me able to rise and walk, no longer a paralytic;
and I, too, am like myself when I make so bad a use of this grace.

14. Who could have said that I was so soon to
fall, after such great consolations from Godâ€”after His Majesty had
implanted virtues in me which of themselves made me serve Himâ€”after I
had been, as it were, dead, and in such extreme peril of eternal
damnationâ€”after He had raised me up, soul and body, so that all who
saw me marvelled to see me alive? What can it mean, O my Lord? The
life we live is so full of danger! While I am writing thisâ€”and it
seems to me, too, by Thy grace and mercyâ€”I may say with St. Paul, though not so truly as he did: "It
is not I who live now, but Thou, my Creator, livest in
me."[128] For some years past, so it seems
to me, Thou hast held me by the hand; and I see in myself desires and
resolutionsâ€”in some measure tested by experience, in many ways,
during that timeâ€”never to do anything, however slight it may be,
contrary to Thy will, though I must have frequently offended Thy
Divine Majesty without being

aware of it; and I also think that nothing can be proposed to me
that I should not with great resolution undertake for Thy love. In
some things Thou hast Thyself helped me to succeed therein. I love
neither the world, nor the things of the world; nor do I believe that
anything that does not come from Thee can give me pleasure; everything
else seems to me a heavy cross.

15. Still, I may easily deceive myself, and it
may be that I am not what I say I am; but Thou knowest, O my Lord,
that, to the best of my knowledge, I lie not. I am afraid, and with
good reason, lest Thou shouldst abandon me; for I know now how far my
strength and little virtue can reach, if Thou be not ever at hand to
supply them, and to help me never to forsake Thee. May His Majesty
grant that I be not forsaken of Thee even now, when I am thinking all
this of myself!

16. I know not how we can wish to live, seeing
that everything is so uncertain. Once, O Lord, I thought it
impossible to forsake Thee so utterly; and now that I have forsaken
Thee so often, I cannot help being afraid; for when Thou didst
withdraw but a little from me, I fell down to the ground at once.
Blessed for ever be Thou! Though I have forsaken Thee, Thou hast not
forsaken me so utterly but that Thou hast come again and raised me up,
giving me Thy hand always. Very often, O Lord, I would not take it:
very often I would not listen when Thou wert calling me again, as I am
going to show.

The Life

Chapter VII

Lukewarmness. The Loss of Grace. Inconvenience of Laxity in
Religious Houses.

So, then, going on from pastime to pastime,
from vanity to vanity, from one occasion of sin to another, I began to
expose myself exceedingly to the very greatest

dangers: my soul was so distracted by many vanities, that I was
ashamed to draw near unto God in an act of such special friendship as
that of prayer.[129] As my sins multiplied, I
began to lose the pleasure and comfort I had in virtuous things: and
that loss contributed to the abandonment of prayer. I see now most
clearly, O my Lord, that this comfort departed from me because I had
departed from Thee.

2. It was the most fearful delusion into which
Satan could plunge meâ€”to give up prayer under the pretence of
humility. I began to be afraid of giving myself to prayer, because I
saw myself so lost. I thought it would be better for me, seeing that
in my wickedness I was one of the most wicked, to live like the
multitudeâ€”to say the prayers which I was bound to say, and that
vocally: not to practise mental prayer nor commune with God so much;
for I deserved to be with the devils, and was deceiving those who were
about me, because I made an outward show of goodness; and therefore
the community in which I dwelt is not to be blamed; for with my
cunning I so managed matters, that all had a good opinion of me; and
yet I did not seek this deliberately by simulating devotion; for in
all that relates to hypocrisy and ostentationâ€”glory be to God!â€”I do
not remember that I ever
offended Him,[130] so
far as I know. The very first movements herein gave me such pain,
that the devil would depart from me with loss, and the gain remained
with me; and thus, accordingly, he never tempted me much in this way.
Perhaps, however, if God had permitted Satan to tempt me as sharply
herein as he tempted me in other things, I should have fallen also
into this; but His Majesty has preserved me until now. May He be
blessed for evermore! It was rather a heavy affliction to me that I
should be thought so well of; for I knew my own secret.

3. The reason why they thought I was not so
wicked was this: they saw that I, who was so young, and exposed to so
many occasions of sin, withdrew myself so often into solitude for
prayer, read much, spoke of God, that I liked to have His image
painted in many places, to have an oratory of my own, and furnish it
with objects of devotion, that I spoke ill of no one, and other things
of the same kind in me which have the appearance of virtue. Yet all
the whileâ€”I was so vainâ€”I knew how to procure respect for myself by
doing those things which in the world are usually regarded
with respect.

4. In consequence of this, they gave me as much
liberty as they did to the oldest nuns, and even more, and had great
confidence in me; for as to taking any liberty for myself, or doing
anything without leaveâ€”such as conversing through the door, or in
secret, or by nightâ€”I do not think I could have brought myself to
speak with anybody in the monastery in that way, and I never did it;
for our Lord held me back. It seemed to meâ€”for I considered many
things carefully and of set purposeâ€”that it would be a very evil deed
on my part, wicked as I was, to risk the credit of so many nuns, who
were all goodâ€”as if everything else I did was well done! In truth,
the evil I did was not the result of deliberation, as this would have
been, if I had done it, although it was too much so.

5. Therefore, I think that it did me much harm
to be in a monastery not enclosed. The liberty which those who were
good might have with advantageâ€”they not being obliged to do more than
they do, because they had not bound themselves to enclosureâ€”would
certainly have led me, who am wicked, straight to hell, if our Lord,
by so many remedies and means of His most singular mercy, had not
delivered me out of that dangerâ€”and it is, I believe, the very
greatest dangerâ€”namely, a monastery of women unenclosedâ€”yea, more, I
think it is, for those who will be wicked, a road to

hell, rather than a help to their weakness. This is not to be
understood of my monastery; for there are so many there who in the
utmost sincerity, and in great perfection, serve our Lord, so that His
Majesty, according to His goodness, cannot but be gracious unto them;
neither is it one of those which are most open for all religious
observances are kept in it; and I am speaking only of others which I
have seen and known.

6. I am exceedingly sorry for these houses,
because our Lord must of necessity send His special inspirations not
merely once, but many times, if the nuns therein are to be saved,
seeing that the honours and amusements of the world are allowed among
them, and the obligations of their state are so ill-understood. God
grant they may not count that to be virtue which is sin, as I did so
often! It is very difficult to make people understand this; it is
necessary our Lord Himself should take the matter seriously into His
own hands.

7. If parents would take my advice, now that
they are at no pains to place their daughters where they may walk in
the way of salvation without incurring a greater risk than they would
do if they were left in the world, let them look at least at that
which concerns their good name. Let them marry them to persons of a
much lower degree, rather than place them in monasteries of this kind,
unless they be of extremely good inclinations, and God grant that
these inclinations may come to good! or let them keep them at home.
If they will be wicked at home, their evil life can be hidden only for
a short time; but in monasteries it can be hidden long, and, in the
end, it is our Lord that discovers it. They injure not only
themselves, but all the nuns also. And all the while the poor things
are not in fault; for they walk in the way that is shown them. Many
of them are to be pitied; for they wished to withdraw from the world,
and, thinking to escape from the dangers of it,

and that they were going to serve our Lord, have found themselves
in ten worlds at once, without knowing what to do, or how to help
themselves. Youth and sensuality and the devil invite them and
incline them to follow certain ways which are of the essence of
worldliness. They see these ways, so to speak, considered as
safe there.

8. Now, these seem to me to be in some degree
like those wretched heretics who will make themselves blind, and who
will consider that which they do to be good, and so believe, but
without really believing; for they have within themselves something
that tells them it is wrong.

9. Oh, what utter ruin! utter ruin of religious
personsâ€”I am not speaking now more of women than of menâ€”where the
rules of the Order are not kept; where the same monastery offers two
roads: one of virtue and observance, the other of inobservance, and
both equally frequented! I have spoken incorrectly: they are not
equally frequented; for, on account of our sins, the way of the
greatest imperfection is the most frequented; and because it is the
broadest, it is also the most in favour. The way of religious
observance is so little used, that the friar and the nun who would
really begin to follow their vocation thoroughly have reason to fear
the members of their communities more than all the devils together.
They must be more cautious, and dissemble more, when they would speak
of that friendship with God which they desire to have, than when they
would speak of those friendships and affections which the devil
arranges in monasteries. I know not why we are astonished that the
Church is in so much trouble, when we see those, who ought to be an
example of every virtue to others, so disfigure the work which the
spirit of the Saints departed wrought in their Orders. May it please
His Divine Majesty to apply a remedy to this, as He sees it to be
needful! Amen.

10. So, then, when I began to indulge in these
conversations, I did not think, seeing they were customary, that my
soul must be injured and dissipated, as I afterwards found it must be,
by such conversations. I thought that, as receiving visits was so
common in many monasteries, no more harm would befall me thereby than
befell others, whom I knew to be good. I did not observe that they
were much better than I was, and that an act which was perilous for me
was not so perilous for them; and yet I have no doubt there was some
danger in it, were it nothing else but a waste of time.

11. I was once with a personâ€”it was at the
very beginning of my acquaintance with her when our Lord was pleased
to show me that these friendships were not good for me: to warn me
also, and in my blindness, which was so great, to give me light.
Christ stood before me, stern and grave, giving me to understand what
in my conduct was offensive to Him. I saw Him with the eyes of the
soul more distinctly than I could have seen Him with the eyes of the
body. The vision made so deep an impression upon me, that, though it
is more than twenty-six
years ago,[131] I seem to
see Him present even now. I was greatly astonished and disturbed, and
I resolved not to see that person again.

12. It did me much harm that I did not then
know it was possible to see anything otherwise than with the eyes of
the body;[132] so did Satan too, in that he
helped me to think so: he made me understand it to be impossible, and
suggested that I had imagined the visionâ€”that it might be Satan
himselfâ€”and other suppositions of that kind. For all this, the
impression remained with me that the vision was from God, and

not an imagination; but, as it was not to my liking, I forced
myself to lie to myself; and as I did not dare to discuss the matter
with any one, and as great importunity was used, I went back to my
former conversation with the same person, and with others also, at
different times; for I was assured that there was no harm in seeing
such a person, and that I gained, instead of losing, reputation by
doing so. I spent many years in this pestilent amusement; for it
never appeared to me, when I was engaged in it, to be so bad as it
really was, though at times I saw clearly it was not good. But no one
caused me the same distraction which that person did of whom I am
speaking; and that was because I had a great affection for her.

13. At another time, when I was with that
person, we saw, both of us, and others who were present also saw,
something like a great toad crawling towards us, more rapidly than
such a creature is in the habit of crawling. I cannot understand how
a reptile of that kind could, in the middle of the day, have come
forth from that place; it never had done so
before,[133] but the impression it made on me was
such, that I think it must have had a meaning; neither have I ever
forgotten it. Oh, the greatness of God! with what care and tenderness
didst Thou warn me in every way! and how little I profited by
those warnings!

14. There was in that house a nun, who was
related to me, now grown old, a great servant of God, and a strict
observer of the rule. She too warned me from time to time; but I not
only did not listen to her, but was even offended, thinking she was
scandalized without cause. I have mentioned this in order that my
wickedness and the great goodness of God might be understood, and to
show how much I deserved hell for ingratitude so great, and, moreover,
if it should be our Lord's will and pleasure that any nun at
any time

should read this, that she might take warning by me. I beseech
them all, for the love of our Lord, to flee from such recreations
as these.

15. May His Majesty grant I may undeceive some
one of the many I led astray when I told them there was no harm in
these things, and assured them there was no such great danger therein.
I did so because I was blind myself; for I would not deliberately lead
them astray. By the bad example I set before themâ€”I spoke of this
before[134]â€”I was the occasion of much evil, not
thinking I was doing so much harm.

16. In those early days, when I was ill, and
before I knew how to be of use to myself, I had a very strong desire
to further the progress
of others:[135] a most
common temptation of beginners. With me, however, it had good
results. Loving my father so much, I longed to see him in the
possession of that good which I seemed to derive myself from prayer.
I thought that in this life there could not be a greater good than
prayer; and by roundabout ways, as well as I could, I contrived make
him enter upon it; I gave him books for that end. As he was so
goodâ€”I said so before[136]â€”this exercise took
such a hold upon him, that in five or six years, I think it was, he
made so great a progress that I used to praise our Lord for it. It
was a very great consolation to me. He had most grievous trials of
diverse kinds; and he bore them all with the greatest resignation. He
came often to see me; for it was a comfort to him to speak of the
things of God.

17. And now that I had become so dissipated,
and had ceased to pray, and yet saw that he still thought I was what I
used to be, I could not endure it, and so undeceived him. I had been
a year and more without praying, thinking it an act of greater
humility to abstain. Thisâ€”I shall speak of it
again[137]â€”was the greatest temptation I ever
had, because it very nearly

wrought my
utter ruin;[138] for, when I used
to pray, if I offended God one day, on the following days I would
recollect myself, and withdraw farther from the occasions of sin.

18. When that blessed man, having that good
opinion of me, came to visit me, it pained me to see him so deceived
as to think that I used to pray to God as before. So I told him that
I did not pray; but I did not tell him why. I put my infirmities
forward as an excuse; for though I had recovered from that which was
so troublesome, I have always been weak, even very much so; and though
my infirmities are somewhat less troublesome now than they were, they
still afflict me in many ways; specially, I have been suffering for
twenty years from sickness
every morning,[139]
so that I could not take any food till past mid-day, and even
occasionally not till later; and now, since my Communions have become
more frequent, it is at night, before I lie down to rest, that the
sickness occurs, and with greater pain; for I have to bring it on with
a feather, or other means. If I do not bring it on, I suffer more;
and thus I am never, I believe, free from great pain, which is
sometimes very acute, especially about the heart; though the
fainting-fits are now but of rare occurrence. I am also, these eight
years past, free from the paralysis, and from other infirmities of
fever, which I had so often. These afflictions I now regard so
lightly, that I am even glad of them, believing that our Lord in some
degree takes His pleasure in them.

19. My father believed me when I gave him that
for a reason, as he never told a lie himself; neither should I have
done so, considering the relation we were in. I told him, in order to
be the more easily believed, that it was much for me to be able to
attend in choir, though I saw clearly that this was no excuse
whatever; neither, however, was it a sufficient reason for giving
up a

practice which does not require, of necessity, bodily strength, but
only love and a habit thereof; yet our Lord always furnishes an
opportunity for it, if we but seek it. I say always; for though there
may be times, as in illness, and from other causes, when we cannot be
much alone, yet it never can be but there must be opportunities when
our strength is sufficient for the purpose; and in sickness itself,
and amidst other hindrances, true prayer consists, when the soul
loves, in offering up its burden, and in thinking of Him for Whom it
suffers, and in the resignation of the will, and in a thousand ways
which then present themselves. It is under these circumstances that
love exerts itself for it is not necessarily prayer when we are alone;
and neither is it not prayer when we are not.

20. With a little care, we may find great
blessings on those occasions when our Lord, by means of afflictions,
deprives us of time for prayer; and so I found it when I had a good
conscience. But my father, having that opinion of me which he had, and
because of the love he bore me, believed all I told him; moreover, he
was sorry for me; and as he had now risen to great heights of prayer
himself, he never remained with me long; for when he had seen me, he
went his way, saying that he was wasting his time. As I was wasting
it in other vanities, I cared little about this.

21. My father was not the only person whom I
prevailed upon to practise prayer, though I was walking in vanity
myself. When I saw persons fond of reciting their prayers, I showed
them how to make a meditation, and helped them and gave them books;
for from the time I began myself to pray, as I said
before,[140] I always had a desire that others
should serve God. I thought, now that I did not myself serve our Lord
according to the light I had, that the knowledge His Majesty had given
me ought not to be lost, and that others should

serve Him for me.[141] I say this in order
to explain the great blindness I was in: going to ruin myself, and
labouring to save others.

22. At this time, that illness befell my father
of which he died;[142] it lasted some days. I
went to nurse him, being more sick in spirit than he was in body,
owing to my many vanitiesâ€”though not, so far as I know, to the extent
of being in mortal sinâ€”through the whole of that wretched time of
which I am speaking; for, if I knew myself to be in mortal sin, I
would not have continued in it on any account. I suffered much myself
during his illness. I believe I rendered him some service in return
for what he had suffered in mine. Though I was very ill, I did
violence to myself; and though in losing him I was to lose all the
comfort and good of my lifeâ€”he was all this to meâ€”I was so
courageous, that I never betrayed my sorrows, concealing them till he
was dead, as if I felt none at all. It seemed as if my very soul were
wrenched when I saw him at the point of deathâ€”my love for him was
so deep.

23. It was a matter for which we ought to
praise our Lordâ€”the death that he died, and the desire he had to die;
so also was the advice he gave us after the last anointing, how he
charged us to recommend him to God, and to pray for mercy for him, how
he bade us serve God always, and consider how all things come to an
end. He told us with tears how sorry he was that he had not served
Him himself; for he wished he was a friarâ€”I mean, that he had been
one in the Strictest Order that is. I have a most assured conviction
that our Lord, some fifteen days before, had revealed to him he was
not to live; for up to that time, though very ill, he did not think
so; but now, though he was somewhat better, and the physicians said
so, he gave no heed to them, but employed himself in the ordering of
his soul.

24. His chief suffering consisted in a most
acute pain of the shoulders, which never left him: it was so sharp at
times, that it put him into great torture. I said to him, that as he
had so great a devotion to our Lord carrying His cross on His
shoulders, he should now think that His Majesty wished him to feel
somewhat of that pain which He then suffered Himself. This so
comforted him, that I do not think I heard him
complain afterwards.

25. He remained three days without
consciousness; but on the day he died, our Lord restored him so
completely, that we were astonished: he preserved his understanding to
the last; for in the middle of the creed, which he repeated himself,
he died. He lay there like an angelâ€”such he seemed to me, if I may
sayso, both in soul and disposition: he was very good.

26. I know not why I have said this, unless it
be for the purpose of showing how much the more I am to be blamed for
my wickedness; for after seeing such a death, and knowing what his
life had been, I, in order to be in any wise like unto such a father,
ought to have grown better. His confessor, a most learned
Dominican,[143] used to say that he had no
doubt he went straight
to heaven.[144] He had
heard his confession for some years, and spoke with praise of the
purity of his conscience.

27. This Dominican father, who was a very good
man, fearing God, did me a very great service; for I confessed to him.
He took upon himself the task of helping my soul in earnest, and of
making me see the perilous state I
was in.[145]
He sent me to Communion once
a fortnight;[146]
and I, by degrees beginning to speak to him, told him about my prayer.
He charged

me never to omit it: that, anyhow, it could not do me anything but
good. I began to return to itâ€”though I did not cut off the occasions
of sinâ€”and never afterwards gave it up. My life became most
wretched, because I learned in prayer more and more of my faults. On
one side, God was calling me; on the other, I was following the world.
All the things of God gave me great pleasure; and I was a prisoner to
the things of the world. It seemed as if I wished to reconcile two
contradictions, so much at variance one with another as are the life
of the spirit and the joys and pleasures and amusements
of sense.[147]

28. I suffered much in prayer; for the spirit
was slave, and not master; and so I was not able to shut myself up
within myselfâ€”that was my whole method of prayerâ€”without shutting up
with me a thousand vanities at the same time. I spent many years in
this way; and I am now astonished that any one could have borne it
without abandoning either the one or the other. I know well that it
was not in my power then to give up prayer, because He held me in His
hand Who sought me that He might show me greater mercies.

29. O my God! if I might, I would speak of the
occasions from which God delivered me, and how I threw myself into
them again; and of the risks I ran of losing utterly my good name,
from which He delivered me. I did things to show what I was; and our
Lord hid the evil, and revealed some little virtueâ€”if so be I had
anyâ€”and made it great in the eyes of all, so that they always held me
in much honour. For although my follies came occasionally into light,
people would not believe it when they saw other things, which they
thought good. The reason is, that He Who knoweth all things saw it
was necessary it should be so, in order that I might have some credit
given me by those to whom in after years I was to speak of His

service. His supreme munificence regarded not my great sins, but
rather the desires I frequently had to please Him, and the pain I felt
because I had not the strength to bring those desires to
good effect.

30. O Lord of my soul! how shall I be able to
magnify the graces which Thou, in those years, didst bestow upon me?
Oh, how, at the very time that I offended Thee most, Thou didst
prepare me in a moment, by a most profound compunction, to taste of
the sweetness of Thy consolations and mercies! In truth, O my King,
Thou didst administer to me the most delicate and painful chastisement
it was possible for me to bear; for Thou knewest well what would have
given me the most pain. Thou didst chastise my sins with great
consolations. I do not believe I am saying foolish things, though it
may well be that I am beside myself whenever I call to mind my
ingratitude and my wickedness.

31. It was more painful for me, in the state I
was in, to receive graces, when I had fallen into grievous faults,
than it would have been to receive chastisement; for one of those
faults, I am sure, used to bring me low, shame and distress me, more
than many diseases, together with many heavy trials, could have done.
For, as to the latter, I saw that I deserved them; and it seemed to me
that by them I was making some reparation for my sins, though it was
but slight, for my sins are so many. But when I see myself receive
graces anew, after being so ungrateful for those already received,
that is to meâ€”and, I believe, to all who have any knowledge or love
of Godâ€”a fearful kind of torment. We may see how true this is by
considering what a virtuous mind must be. Hence my tears and vexation
when I reflected on what I felt, seeing myself in a condition to fall
at every moment, though my resolutions and desires thenâ€”I am speaking
of that timeâ€”were strong.

32. It is a great evil for a soul to be alone
in the

midst of such great dangers; it seems to me that if I had had any
one with whom I could have spoken of all this, it might have helped me
not to fall. I might, at least, have been ashamed before himâ€”and yet
I was not ashamed before God.

33. For this reason, I would advise those who
give themselves to prayer, particularly at first, to form friendships;
and converse familiarly, with others who are doing the same thing. It
is a matter of the last importance, even if it lead only to helping
one another by prayer: how much more, seeing that it has led to much
greater gain! Now, if in their intercourse one with another, and in
the indulgence of human affections even not of the best kind, men seek
friends with whom they may refresh themselves, and for the purpose of
having greater satisfaction in speaking of their empty joys, I know no
reason why it should not be lawful for him who is beginning to love
and serve God in earnest to confide to another his joys and sorrows;
for they who are given to prayer are thoroughly accustomed
to both.

34. For if that friendship with God which he
desires be real, let him not be afraid of vain-glory; and if the first
movements thereof assail him, he will escape from it with merit; and I
believe that he who will discuss the matter with this intention will
profit both himself and those who hear him, and thus will derive more
light for his own understanding, as well as for the instruction of his
friends. He who in discussing his method of prayer falls into vain-
glory will do so also when he hears Mass devoutly, if he is seen of
men, and in doing other good works, which must be done under pain of
being no Christian; and yet these things must not be omitted through
fear of vain-glory.

35. Moreover, it is a most important matter for
those souls who are not strong in virtue; for they have so many
people, enemies as well as friends, to urge them the wrong way, that I
do not see how this point

is capable of exaggeration. It seems to me that Satan has employed
this artificeâ€”and it is of the greatest service to himâ€”namely, that
men who really wish to love and please God should hide the fact, while
others, at his suggestion, make open show of their malicious
dispositions; and this is so common, that it seems a matter of
boasting now, and the offences committed against God are thus
published abroad.

36. I do not know whether the things I am
saying are foolish or not. If they be so, your reverence will strike
them out. I entreat you to help my simplicity by adding a good deal
to this, because the things that relate to the service of God are so
feebly managed, that it is necessary for those who would serve Him to
join shoulder to shoulder, if they are to advance at all; for it is
considered safe to live amidst the vanities and pleasures of the
world, and few there be who regard them with unfavourable eyes. But
if any one begins to give himself up to the service of God, there are
so many to find fault with him, that it becomes necessary for him to
seek companions, in order that he may find protection among them till
he grows strong enough not to feel what he may be made to suffer. If
he does not, he will find himself in great straits.

37. This, I believe, must have been the reason
why some of the Saints withdrew into the desert. And it is a kind of
humility in man not to trust to himself, but to believe that God will
help him in his relations with those with whom he converses; and
charity grows by being diffused; and there are a thousand blessings
herein which I would not dare to speak of, if I had not known by
experience the great importance of it. It is very true that I am the
most wicked and the basest of all who are born of women; but I believe
that he who, humbling himself, though strong, yet trusteth not in
himself, and believeth another who in this matter has had experience,
will lose nothing. Of myself I may say that, if our Lord had not
revealed to me this truth,

and given me the opportunity of speaking very frequently to persons
given to prayer, I should have gone on falling and rising till I
tumbled into hell. I had many friends to help me to fall; but as to
rising again, I was so much left to myself, that I wonder now I was
not always on the ground. I praise God for His mercy; for it was He
only Who stretched out His hand to me.
May He be blessed for ever! Amen.

The Life

Chapter VIII

The Saint Ceases Not to Pray. Prayer the Way to Recover What
Is Lost. All Exhorted to Pray. The Great Advantage of Prayer, Even
to Those Who May Have Ceased from It.

It is not without reason that I have dwelt so
long on this portion of my life. I see clearly that it will give no
one pleasure to see anything so base; and certainly I wish those who
may read this to have me in abhorrence, as a soul so obstinate and so
ungrateful to Him Who did so much for me. I could wish, too, I had
permission to say how often at this time I failed in my duty to God,
because I was not leaning on the strong pillar of prayer. I passed
nearly twenty years on this stormy sea, falling and rising, but rising
to no good purpose, seeing that I went and fell again. My life was
one of perfection; but it was so mean, that I scarcely made any
account whatever of venial sins; and though of mortal sins I was
afraid, I was not so afraid of them as I ought to have been, because I
did not avoid the perilous occasions of them. I may say that it was
the most painful life that can be imagined, because I had no sweetness
in God, and no pleasure in the world.

2. When I was in the midst of the pleasures of
the world, the remembrance of what I owed to God made

me sad; and when I was praying to God, my worldly affections
disturbed me. This is so painful a struggle, that I know not how I
could have borne it for a month, let alone for so many years.
Nevertheless, I can trace distinctly the great mercy of our Lord to
me, while thus immersed in the world, in that I had still the courage
to pray. I say courage, because I know of nothing in the whole world
which requires greater courage than plotting treason against the King,
knowing that He knows it, and yet never withdrawing from His presence;
for, granting that we are always in the presence of God, yet it seems
to me that those who pray arc in His presence in a very different
sense; for they, as it were, see that He is looking upon them; while
others may be for days together without even once recollecting that
God sees them.

3. It is true, indeed, that during these years
there were many months, and, I believe, occasionally a whole year, in
which I so kept guard over myself that I did not offend our Lord, gave
myself much to prayer, and took some pains, and that successfully, not
to offend Him. I speak of this now, because all I am saying is
strictly true; but I remember very little of those good days, and so
they must have been few, while my evil days were many. Still, the
days that passed over without my spending a great part of them in
prayer were few, unless I was very ill, or very much occupied.

4. When I was ill, I was well with God. I
contrived that those about me should be so, too, and I made
supplications to our Lord for this grace, and spoke frequently of Him.
Thus, with the exception of that year of which I have been speaking,
during eight-and-twenty years of prayer, I spent more than eighteen in
that strife and contention which arose out of my attempts to reconcile
God and the world. As to the other years, of which I have now to
speak, in them the grounds of the warfare, though it was not slight,
were changed; but inasmuch as I wasâ€”at least, I think soâ€”serving God, and aware of the vanity of the world, all has been
pleasant, as I shall
show hereafter.[148]

5. The reason, then, of my telling this at so
great a length is that, as I have
just said,[149]
the mercy of God and my ingratitude, on the one hand, may become
known; and, on the other, that men may understand how great is the
good which God works in a soul when He gives it a disposition to pray
in earnest, though it may not be so well prepared as it ought to be.
If that soul perseveres in spite of sins, temptations, and relapses,
brought about in a thousand ways by Satan, our Lord will bring it at
lastâ€”I am certain of itâ€”to the harbour of salvation, as He has
brought me myself; for so it seems to me now. May His Majesty grant I
may never go back and be lost! He who gives himself to prayer is in
possession of a great blessing, of which many saintly and good men
have writtenâ€”I am speaking of mental prayerâ€”glory be to God for it;
and, if they had not done so, I am not proud enough, though I have but
little humility, to presume to discuss it.

6. I may speak of that which I know by
experience; and so I say, let him never cease from prayer who has once
begun it, be his life ever so wicked; for prayer is the way to amend
it, and without prayer such amendment will be much more difficult.
Let him not be tempted by Satan, as I was, to give it up, on the
pretence of humility;[150] let him rather believe
that His words are true Who says that, if we truly repent, and resolve
never to offend Him, He will take us into His favour
again,[151] give us the graces He gave us before,
and occasionally even greater, if our repentance deserve it. And as
to him who has not begun to pray, I implore him by the love of our
Lord not to deprive himself of so great a good.

7. Herein there is nothing to be afraid
of, but

everything to hope for. Granting that such a one does not advance,
nor make an effort to become perfect, so as to merit the joys and
consolations which the perfect receive from God, yet he will by little
and little attain to a knowledge of the road which leads to heaven.
And if he perseveres, I hope in the mercy of God for him, seeing that
no one ever took Him for his friend that was not amply rewarded; for
mental prayer is nothing else, in my opinion, but being on terms of
friendship with God, frequently conversing in secret with Him Who, we
know, loves us. Now, true love and lasting friendship require certain
dispositions: those of our Lord, we know, are absolutely perfect;
ours, vicious, sensual, and thankless; and you cannot therefore, bring
yourselves to love Him as He loves you, because you have not the
disposition to do so; and if you do not love Him, yet, seeing how much
it concerns you to have His friendship, and how great is His love for
you, rise above that pain you feel at being much with Him Who is so
different from you.

8. O infinite goodness of my God! I seem to see
Thee and myself in this relation to one another. O Joy of the angels!
when I consider it, I wish I could wholly die of love! How true it is
that Thou endurest those who will not endure Thee! Oh, how good a
friend art Thou, O my Lord! how Thou comfortest and endurest, and also
waitest for them to make themselves like unto Thee, and yet, in the
meanwhile, art Thyself so patient of the state they are in! Thou
takest into account the occasions during which they seek Thee, and for
a moment of penitence forgettesttheir offences against Thyself.

9. I have seen this distinctly in my own case,
and I cannot tell why the whole world does not labour to draw near to
Thee in this particular friendship. The wicked, who do not resemble
Thee, ought to do so, in order that Thou mayest make them good,
and for that purpose should permit Thee to remain with them at

least for two hours daily, even though they may not remain with
Thee but, as I used to do, with a thousand distractions, and with
worldly thoughts. In return for this violence which they offer to
themselves for the purpose of remaining in a company so good as
Thineâ€”for at first they can do no more, and even afterwards at
timesâ€”Thou, O Lord, defendest them against the assaults of evil
spirits, whose power Thou restrainest, and even lessenest daily,
giving to them the victory over these their enemies. So it is, O Life
of all lives, Thou slayest none that put their trust in Thee, and seek
Thy friendship; yea, rather, Thou sustainest their bodily life in
greater vigour, and makest their soul to live.

10. I do not understand what there can be to
make them afraid who are afraid to begin mental prayer, nor do I know
what it is they dread. The devil does well to bring this fear upon
us, that he may really hurt us by putting me in fear, he can make me
cease from thinking of my offences against God, of the great debt I
owe Him, of the existence of heaven and hell, and of the great sorrows
and trials He underwent for me. That was all my prayer, and had been,
when I was in this dangerous state, and it was on those subjects I
dwelt whenever I could; and very often, for some years, I was more
occupied with the wish to see the end of the time I had appointed for
myself to spend in prayer, and in watching the hour-glass, than with
other thoughts that were good. If a sharp penance had been laid upon
me, I know of none that I would not very often have willingly
undertaken, rather than prepare myself for prayer by
self-recollection. And certainly the violence with which Satan
assailed me was so irresistible, or my evil habits were so strong,
that I did not betake myself to prayer; and the sadness I felt on
entering the oratory was so great, that it required all the courage I
had to force myself in. They say of me that my courage is not slight,
and it is known that God has given me a courage beyond that of a

woman; but I have made a bad use of it. In the end, our Lord came
to my help; and then, when I had done this violence to myself, I found
greater peace and joy than I sometimes had when I had a desire
to pray.

11. If, then, our Lord bore so long with me,
who was so wickedâ€”and it is plain that it was by prayer all my evil
was correctedâ€”why should any one, how wicked soever he may be, have
any fear? Let him be ever so wicked, he will not remain in his
wickedness so many years as I did, after receiving so many graces from
our Lord. Is there any one who can despair, when He bore so long with
me, only because I desired and contrived to find some place and some
opportunities for Him to be alone with meâ€”and that very often against
my will? for I did violence to myself, or rather our Lord Himself did
violence to me.

12. If, then, to those who do not serve God,
but rather offend Him, prayer be all this, and so necessary, and if no
one can really find out any harm it can do him, and if the omission of
it be not a still greater harm, why, then, should they abstain from it
who serve and desire to serve God? Certainly I cannot comprehend it,
unless it be that men have a mind to go through the troubles of this
life in greater misery, and to shut the door in the face of God, so
that He shall give them no comfort in it. I am most truly sorry for
them, because they serve God at their own cost; for of those who pray,
God Himself defrays the charges, seeing that for a little trouble He
gives sweetness, in order that, by the help it supplies, they may bear
their trials.

13. But because I have much to say hereafter of
this sweetness, which our Lord gives to those who persevere in
prayer,[152] I do not speak of it here; only this
will I say: prayer is the door to those great graces which our Lord
bestowed upon me. If this door be shut, I do not see how He can
bestow them; for even

if He entered into a soul to take His delight therein, and to make
that soul also delight in Him, there is no way by which He can do so;
for His will is, that such a soul should be lonely and pure, with a
great desire to receive His graces. If we put many hindrances in the
way, and take no pains whatever to remove them, how can He come to us,
and how can we have any desire that He should show us His
great mercies?

14. I will speak nowâ€”for it is very important
to understand itâ€”of the assaults which Satan directs against a soul
for the purpose of taking it, and of the contrivances and compassion
wherewith our Lord labours to convert it to Himself, in order that men
may behold His mercy, and the great good it was for me that I did not
give up prayer and spiritual reading, and that they may be on their
guard against the dangers against which I was not on my guard myself.
And, above all, I implore them for the love of our Lord, and for the
great love with which He goeth about seeking our conversion to
Himself, to beware of the occasions of sin; for once placed therein,
we have no ground to rest onâ€”so many enemies then assail us, and our
own weakness is such, that we cannot defend ourselves.

15. Oh, that I knew how to describe the
captivity of my soul in those days! I understood perfectly that I was
in captivity, but I could not understand the nature of it; neither
could I entirely believe that those things which my confessors did not
make so much of were so wrong as I in my soul felt them to be. One of
themâ€”I had gone to him with a scrupleâ€”told me that, even if I were
raised to high contemplation, those occasions and conversations were
not unfitting for me. This was towards the end, when, by the grace of
God, I was withdrawing more and more from those great dangers, but not
wholly from the occasions of them.

16. When they saw my good desires, and how I
occupied myself in prayer, I seemed to them to have

done much; but my soul knew that this was not doing what I was
bound to do for Him to Whom I owed so much. I am sorry for my poor
soul even now, because of its great sufferings, and the little help it
had from any one except God, and for the wide door that man opened for
it, that it might go forth to its pastimes and pleasures, when they
said that these things were lawful.

17. Then there was the torture of sermons, and
that not a slight one; for I was very fond of them. If I heard any
one preach well and with unction, I felt, without my seeking it, a
particular affection for him, neither do I know whence it came. Thus,
no sermon ever seemed to me so bad, but that I listened to it with
pleasure; though, according to others who heard it, the preaching was
not good. If it was a good sermon, it was to me a most special
refreshment. To speak of God, or to hear Him spoken of, never wearied
me. I am speaking of the time after I gave myself to prayer. At one
time I had great comfort in sermons, at another they distressed me,
because they made me feel that I was very far from being what I ought
to have been.

18. I used to pray to our Lord for help; but,
as it now seems to me, I must have committed the fault of not putting
my whole trust in His Majesty, and of not thoroughly distrusting
myself. I sought for help, took great pains; but it must be that I
did not understand how all is of little profit if we do not root out
all confidence in ourselves, and place it wholly in God. I wished to
live, but I saw clearly that I was not living, but rather wrestling
with the shadow of death; there was no one to give me life, and I was
not able to take it. He Who could have given it me had good reasons
for not coming to my aid, seeing that He had brought me back to
Himself so many times, and I as often had left Him.

The Life

Chapter IX

The Means Whereby Our Lord Quickened Her Soul, Gave Her Light
in Her Darkness, and Made Her Strong in Goodness.

My soul was now grown weary; and the
miserable habits it had contracted would not suffer it to rest, though
it was desirous of doing so. It came to pass one day, when I went
into the oratory, that I saw a picture which they had put by there,
and which had been procured for a certain feast observed in the house.
It was a representation of Christ most grievously wounded; and so
devotional, that the very sight of it, when I saw it, moved meâ€”so
well did it show forth that which He suffered for us. So keenly did I
feel the evil return I had made for those wounds, that I thought my
heart was breaking. I threw myself on the ground beside it, my tears
flowing plenteously, and implored Him to strengthen me once for all,
so that I might never offend Him any more.

2. I had a very great devotion to the glorious
Magdalene, and very frequently used to think of her
conversionâ€”especially when I went to Communion. As I knew for
certain that our Lord was then within me, I used to place myself at
His feet, thinking that my tears would not be despised. I did not
know what I was saying; only He did great things for me, in that He
was pleased I should shed those tears, seeing that I so soon forgot
that impression. I used to recommend myself to that glorious Saint,
that she might obtain my pardon.

3. But this last time, before that picture of
which I am speaking, I seem to have made greater progress; for I was
now very distrustful of myself, placing all my confidence in God. It
seems to me that I said to Him then that I would not rise up till He
granted my

petition. I do certainly believe that this was of great service
to me, because I have grown better
ever since.[153]

4. This was my method of prayer: as I could not
make reflections with my understanding, I contrived to picture Christ
as within me;[154] and I used to find myself the
better for thinking of those mysteries of His life during which He was
most lonely. It seemed to me that the being alone and afflicted, like
a person in trouble, must needs permit me to come near unto Him.

5. I did many simple things of this kind; and in
particular I used to find myself most at home in the prayer in the
Garden, whither I went in His company. I thought of the bloody sweat,
and of the affliction He endured there; I wished, if it had been
possible, to wipe away that painful sweat from His face; but I
remember that I never dared to form such a resolutionâ€”my sins stood
before me so grievously. I used to remain with Him there as long as
my thoughts allowed me, and I had many thoughts to torment me. For
many years, nearly every night before I fell asleep, when I
recommended myself to God, that I might sleep in peace, I used always
to think a little of this mystery of the prayer in the Gardenâ€”yea,
even before I was a nun, because I had been told that many indulgences
were to be gained thereby. For my part, I believe that my soul gained
very much in this way, because I began to practise prayer without
knowing what it was; and now that it had become my constant habit, I
was saved from omitting it, as I was from omitting to bless myself
with the sign of the cross before I slept.

6. And now to go back to what I was saying of
the torture which my thoughts inflicted upon me. This method of
praying, in which the understanding makes no reflections, hath this
property: the soul must gain much, or lose. I mean, that those who
advance without

meditation, make great progress, because it is done by love. But
to attain to this involves great labour, except to those persons whom
it is our Lord's good pleasure to lead quickly to the prayer of quiet.
I know of some. For those who walk in this way, a book is profitable,
that by the help thereof they may the more quickly recollect
themselves. It was a help to me also to look on fields, water, and
flowers.[155] In them I saw traces of the
Creatorâ€”I mean, that the sight of these things was as a book unto me;
it roused me, made me recollected, and reminded me of my ingratitude
and of my sins. My understanding was so dull, that I could never
represent in the imagination either heavenly or high things in any
form whatever until our Lord placed them before me in
another way.[156]

7. I was so little able to put things before me
by the help of my understanding, that, unless I saw a thing with my
eyes, my imagination was of no use whatever. I could not do as others
do, who can put matters before themselves so as to become thereby
recollected. I was able to think of Christ only as man. But so it
was; and I never could form any image of Him to myself, though I read
much of His beauty, and looked at pictures of Him. I was like one who
is blind, or in the dark, who, though speaking to a person present,
and feeling his presence, because he knows for certain that he is
presentâ€”I mean, that he understands him to be present, and believes
itâ€”yet does not see him. It was thus with me when I used to think of
our Lord. This is why I was so fond of images. Wretched are they
who, through their own fault, have lost this blessing; it is clear
enough that they do not love our Lordâ€”for if they loved Him, they
would rejoice at the sight of His picture, just as men find pleasure
when they see the portrait of one they love.

8. At this time, the Confessions of
St. Augustine

were given me. Our Lord seems to have so ordained it, for I did
not seek them myself, neither had I ever seen them before. I had a
very great devotion to St. Augustine,
because the monastery in which I lived when I was yet in the world was
of his Order;[157] and also because he had been a
sinnerâ€”for I used to find great comfort in those Saints whom, after
they had sinned, our Lord converted to Himself. I thought they would
help me, and that, as our Lord had forgiven them, so also He would
forgive me. One thing, however, there was that troubled meâ€”I have
spoken of it before[158]â€”our Lord had called
them but once, and they never relapsed; while my relapses were now so
many. This it was that vexed me. But calling to mind the love that
He bore me, I took courage again. Of His mercy I never doubted once,
but I did very often of myself.

9. O my God, I amazed at the hardness of my
heart amidst so many succours from Thee. I am filled with dread when
I see how little I could do with myself, and how I was clogged, so
that I could not resolve to give myself entirely to God. When I began
to read the Confessions, I thought I saw myself there
described, and began to recommend myself greatly to this glorious
Saint. When I came to his conversion, and read how he heard that
voice in the garden, it seemed to me nothing less than that our Lord
had uttered it for me: I felt so in my heart. I remained for some
time lost in tears, in great inward affliction and distress. O my
God, what a soul has to suffer because it has lost the liberty it had
of being mistress over itself! and what torments it has to endure! I
wonder now how I could live in torments so great: God be praised Who
gave me life, so that I might escape from so fatal a death! I believe
that my soul obtained great strength from His Divine Majesty, and that
He must have heard my cry, and had compassion upon so many tears.

10. A desire to spend more time with Him began
to grow within me, and also to withdraw from the occasions of sin: for
as soon as I had done so, I turned lovingly to His Majesty at once. I
understood clearly, as I thought, that I loved Him; but I did not
understand, as I ought to have understood it, wherein the true love of
God consists. I do not think I had yet perfectly disposed myself to
seek His service when His Majesty turned towards me with His
consolations. What others strive after with great labour, our Lord
seems to have looked out for a way to make me willing to acceptâ€”that
is, in these later years to give me joy and comfort. But as for
asking our Lord to give me either these things or sweetness in
devotion, I never dared to do it; the only thing I prayed Him to give
me was the grace never to offend Him, together with the forgiveness of
my great sins. When I saw that my sins were so great, I never
ventured deliberately to ask for consolation or for sweetness. He had
compassion enough upon me, I thinkâ€”and, in truth, He dealt with me
according to His great mercyâ€”when He allowed me to stand before Him,
and when He drew me into His presence; for I saw that, if He had not
drawn me, I should not have come at all.

11. Once only in my life do I remember asking
for consolation, being at the time in great aridities. When I
considered what I had done, I was so confounded, that the very
distress I suffered from seeing how little humility I had, brought me
that which I had been so bold as to ask for. I knew well that it was
lawful to pray for it; but it seemed to me that it is lawful only for
those who are in good dispositions, who have sought with all their
might to attain to true devotionâ€”that is, not to offend God, and to
be disposed and resolved for all goodness. I looked upon those tears
of mine as womanish and weak, seeing that I did not obtain my desires
by them; nevertheless, I believe that they did me some service; for,
specially after those two occasions

of great compunction and sorrow
of heart,[159]
accompanied by tears, of which I am speaking, I began in an especial
way to give myself more to prayer, and to occupy myself less with
those things which did me harmâ€”though I did not give them up
altogether. But God Himself, as I have just said, came to my aid, and
helped me to turn away from them. As His Majesty was only waiting for
some preparation on my part, the spiritual graces grew in me as I
shall now explain. It is not the custom of our Lord to give these
graces to any but to those who keep their consciences in
greater pureness.[160]

The Life

Chapter X

The Graces She Received in Prayer. What We Can Do Ourselves.
The Great Importance of Understanding What Our Lord Is Doing for Us.
She Desires Her Confessors to Keep Her Writings Secret, Because of the
Special Graces of Our Lord to Her, Which They Had Commanded Her
to Describe.

I used to have at times, as I have
said,[161] though it used to pass quickly
awayâ€”certain commencements of that which I am going now to describe.
When I formed those pictures within myself of throwing myself at the
feet of Christ, as I
said before,[162] and
sometimes even when I was reading, a feeling of the presence of God
would come over me unexpectedly, so that I could in no wise doubt
either that He was within me, or that I was wholly absorbed in Him.
It was not by way of vision; I believe it was what is called
mystical theology.

The soul is suspended in such a way that it seems to be utterly
beside itself. The will loves; the memory, so it seems to me, is as
it were lost; and the understanding, so I think, makes no
reflectionsâ€”yet is not lost: as I have just said, it is not at work,
but it stands as if amazed at the greatness of the things it
understands; for God wills it to understand that it understands
nothing whatever of that which His Majesty places before it.

2. Before this, I had a certain tenderness of
soul which was very abiding, partially attainable, I believe, in some
measure, by our own efforts: a consolation which is not wholly in the
senses, nor yet altogether in the spirit, but is all of it the gift of
God. However, I think we can contribute much towards the attaining of
it by considering our vileness and our ingratitude towards Godâ€”the
great things He has done for usâ€”His Passion, with its grievous
painsâ€”and His life, so full of sorrows; also, by rejoicing in the
contemplation of His works, of His greatness, and of the love that He
bears us. Many other considerations there are which he who really
desires to make progress will often stumble on, though he may not be
very much on the watch for them. If with this there be a little love,
the soul is comforted, the heart is softened, and tears flow.
Sometimes it seems that we do violence to ourselves and weep; at other
times, our Lord seems to do so, so that we have no power to resist
Him. His Majesty seems to reward this slight carefulness of ours with
so grand a gift as is this consolation which He ministers to the soul
of seeing itself weeping for so great a Lord. I am not surprised; for
the soul has reason enough, and more than enough, for its joy. Here
it comforts itselfâ€”here it rejoices.

3. The comparison which now presents itself
seems to me to be good. These joys in prayer are like what those of
heaven must be. As the vision of the saints, which is measured by
their merits there, reaches no

further than our Lord wills, and as the blessed see how little
merit they had, every one of them is satisfied with the place assigned
him: there being the very greatest difference between one joy and
another in heaven, and much greater than between one spiritual joy and
another on earthâ€”which is, however, very great. And in truth, in the
beginning, a soul in which God works this grace thinks that now it has
scarcely anything more to desire, and counts itself abundantly
rewarded for all the service it has rendered Him. And there is reason
for this: for one of those tearsâ€”which, as I have just said, are
almost in our own power, though without God nothing can be
doneâ€”cannot, in my opinion, be purchased with all the labours of the
world, because of the great gain it brings us. And what greater gain
can we have than some testimony of our having pleased God? Let him,
then, who shall have attained to this, give praise unto
Godâ€”acknowledge himself to be one of His greatest debtors; because it
seems to be His will to take him into His house, having chosen him for
His kingdom, if he does not turn back.

4. Let him not regard certain kinds of humility
which exist, and of which I mean
to speak.[163]
Some think it humility not to believe that God is bestowing His gifts
upon them. Let us clearly understand this, and that it is perfectly
clear God bestows His gifts without any merit whatever on our part;
and let us be grateful to His Majesty for them; for if we do not
recognize the gifts received at His hands, we shall never be moved to
love Him. It is a most certain truth, that the richer we see
ourselves to be, confessing at the same time our poverty, the greater
will be our progress, and the more real our humility.

5. An opposite course tends to take away all
courage; for we shall think ourselves incapable of great blessings, if
we begin to frighten ourselves with the dread of vain-glory when our
Lord begins to show His

mercy upon us.[164] Let us believe that He
Who gives these gifts will also, when the devil begins to tempt us
herein, give us the grace to detect him, and the strength to resist
himâ€”that is, He will do so if we walk in simplicity before God,
aiming at pleasing Him only, and not men. It is a most evident truth,
that our love for a person is greater, the more distinctly we remember
the good he has done us.

6. If, then, it is lawful, and so meritorious,
always to remember that we have our being from God, that He has
created us out of nothing, that He preserves us, and also to remember
all the benefits of His death and Passion, which He suffered long
before He made us for every one of us now aliveâ€”why should it not be
lawful for me to discern, confess, and consider often that I was once
accustomed to speak of vanities, and that now our Lord has given me
the grace to speak only of Himself?

7. Here, then, is a precious pearl, which, when
we remember that it is given us, and that we have it in possession,
powerfully invites us to love. All this is the fruit of prayer
founded on humility. What, then, will it be when we shall find
ourselves in possession of other pearls of greater price, such as
contempt of the world and of self, which some servants of God have
already received? It is clear that such souls must consider
themselves greater debtorsâ€”under greater obligations to serve Him: we
must acknowledge that we have nothing of ourselves, and confess the
munificence of our Lord, Who, on a soul so wretched and poor, and so
utterly undeserving, as mine is,â€”for whom the first of these pearls
was enough, and more than enough,â€”would bestow greater riches than I
could desire.

8. We must renew our strength to serve Him, and
strive not to be ungrateful, because it is on this condition that our
Lord dispenses His treasures; for if we do not make a good use of
them, and of the high estate to which He raises us, He will return and
take them

from us, and we shall be poorer than ever. His Majesty will give
the pearls to him who shall bring them forth and employ them usefully
for himself and others. For how shall he be useful, and how shall he
spend liberally, who does not know that he is rich? It is not
possible, I think, our nature being what it is, that he can have the
courage necessary for great things who does not know that God is on
his side; for so miserable are we, so inclined to the things of this
world, that he can hardly have any real abhorrence of, with great
detachment from, all earthly things who does not see that he holds
some pledges for those things that are above. It is by these gifts
that our Lord gives us that strength which we through our sins
have lost.

9. A man will hardly wish to be held in
contempt and abhorrence, nor will he seek after the other great
virtues to which the perfect attain, if he has not some pledges of the
love which God bears him, together with a living faith. Our nature is
so dead, that we go after that which we see immediately before us; and
it is these graces, therefore, that quicken and strengthen our faith.
It may well be that I, who am so wicked, measure others by myself, and
that others require nothing more than the verities of the faith, in
order to render their works most perfect; while I, wretched that I am!
have need of everything.

10. Others will explain this. I speak from my
own experience, as I have been commanded; and if what I say be not
correct, let him[165] to whom I send it destroy
it; for he knows better than I do what is wrong in it. I entreat him,
for the love of our Lord, to publish abroad what I have thus far said
of my wretched life, and of my sins. I give him leave to do so; and
to all my confessors, also,â€”of whom he is oneâ€”to whom this is to be
sent, if it be their pleasure, even during my life, so that I may no
longer deceive people who think there

must be some good
in me.[166] Certainly, I
speak in all sincerity, so far as I understand myself. Such
publication will give me great comfort.

11. But as to that which I am now going to
say, I give no such leave; nor, if it be shown to any one, do I
consent to its being said who the person is whose experience it
describes, nor who wrote it. This is why I mention neither my own
name, nor that of any other person whatever. I have written it in the
best way I could, in order not to be known; and this I beg of them for
the love of God. Persons so learned and grave as they
are[167] have authority enough to approve of
whatever right things I may say, should our Lord give me the grace to
do so; and if I should say anything of the kind, it will be His, and
not mineâ€”because I am neither learned nor of good life, and I have no
person of learning or any other to teach me; for they only who ordered
me to write know that I am writing, and at this moment they are not
here. I have, as it were, to steal the time, and that with
difficulty, because my writing hinders me from spinning. I am living
in a house that is poor, and have many things to
do.[168] If, indeed, our Lord had given me
greater abilities and a better memory, I might then profit by what I
have seen and read; but my abilities are very slight. If, then, I
should say anything that is right, our Lord will have it said for some
good purpose; that which may be wrong will be mine, and your reverence
will strike it out.

12. In neither case will it be of any use to
publish my name: during my life, it is clear that no good I may have
done ought to be told; after death, there is no reason against it,
except that it will lose all authority and credit, because related of
a person so vile and so wicked as I am. And because I think your
reverence and the others who may see this writing will do this that I
ask of you, for the love of our Lord, I write with

freedom. If it were not so, I should have great scruples, except
in declaring my sins: and in that matter I should have none at all.
For the rest, it is enough that I am a woman to make my sails droop:
how much more, then, when I am a woman, and a wicked one?

13. So, then, everything here beyond the
simple story of my life your reverence must take upon yourselfâ€”since
you have so pressed me to give some account of the graces which our
Lord bestowed upon me in prayerâ€”if it he consistent with the truths
of our holy Catholic faith; if it be not, your reverence must burn it
at onceâ€”for I give my consent. I will recount my experience, in
order that, if it be consistent with those truths, your reverence may
make some use of it; if not, you will deliver my soul from delusion,
so that Satan may gain nothing there where I seemed to be gaining
myself. Our Lord knows well that I, as I shall show
hereafter,[169] have always laboured to find out
those who could give me light.

14. How clear soever I may wish to make my
account of that which relates to prayer, it will be obscure enough for
those who are without experience. I shall speak of certain
hindrances, which, as I understand it, keep men from advancing on this
roadâ€”and of other things which are dangerous, as our Lord has taught
me by experience. I have also discussed the matter with men of great
learning, with persons who for many years had lived spiritual lives,
who admit that, in the twenty-seven years only during which I have
given myself to prayerâ€”though I walked so ill, and stumbled so often
on the roadâ€”His Majesty granted me that experience which others
attain to in seven-and-thirty, or seven-and-forty, years; and they,
too, being persons who ever advanced in the way of penance and
of virtue.

15. Blessed be God for all, and may His
infinite Majesty make use of me! Our Lord knoweth well that I have no
other end in this than that He may be praised and magnified a little,
when men shall see that on a dunghill so foul and rank He has made a
garden of flowers so sweet. May it please His Majesty that I may not
by my own fault root them out, and become again what I was before.
And I entreat your reverence, for the love of our Lord, to beg this of
Him for me, seeing that you have a clearer knowledge of what I am than
you have allowed me to give of myself here.

The Life

Chapter XI

Why Men Do Not Attain Quickly to the Perfect Love of God. Of
Four Degrees of Prayer. Of the First Degree. The Doctrine Profitable
for Beginners, and for Those Who Have No Sensible Sweetness.

I speak now of those who begin to be the
servants of love; that seems to me to be nothing else but to resolve
to follow Him in the way of prayer, who has loved us so much. It is a
dignity so great, that I have a strange joy in thinking of it; for
servile fear vanishes at once, if we are, as we ought to be, in the
first degree. O Lord of my soul, and my good, how is it that, when a
soul is determined to love Theeâ€”doing all it can, by forsaking all
things, in order that it may the better occupy itself with the love of
Godâ€”it is not Thy will it should have the joy of ascending at once to
the possession of perfect love? I have spoken amiss; I ought to have
said, and my complaint should have been, why is it we do not? for the
fault is wholly our own that we do not rejoice at once in a dignity so
great, seeing that the attaining to the perfect possession of this
true love brings all blessings with it.

2. We think so much of ourselves, and are so
dilatory in giving ourselves wholly to God, that, as His Majesty will
not let us have the fruition of that which is so precious but at a
great cost, so neither do we perfectly prepare ourselves for it. I
see plainly that there is nothing by which so great a good can be
procured in this world. If, however, we did what we could, not
clinging to anything upon earth, but having all our thoughts and
conversation in Heaven, I believe that this blessing would quickly be
given us, provided we perfectly prepared ourselves for it at once, as
some of the saints have done. We think we are giving all to God; but,
in fact, we are offering only the revenue or the produce, while we
retain the fee-simple of the land in our own possession.

3. We resolve to become poor, and it is a
resolution of great merit; but we very often take great care not to be
in want, not simply of what is necessary, but of what is superfluous:
yea, and to make for ourselves friends who may supply us; and in this
way we take more pains, and perhaps expose ourselves to greater
danger, in order that we may want nothing, than we did formerly, when
we had our own possessions in our own power.

4. We thought, also, that we gave up all desire
of honour when we became religious, or when we began the spiritual
life, and followed after perfection; and yet, when we are touched on
the point of honour, we do not then remember that we had given it up
to God. We would seize it again, and take it, as they say, out of His
Hands, even after we had made Him, to all appearance, the Lord of our
own will. So is it in every thing else.

5. A pleasant way this of seeking the love of
God! we retain our own affections, and yet will have that love, as
they say, by handfuls. We make no efforts to bring our desires to
good effect, or to raise them resolutely above the earth; and yet,
with all this, we

must have many spiritual consolations. This is not well, and we
are seeking things that are incompatible one with the other. So,
because we do not give ourselves up wholly and at once, this treasure
is not given wholly and at once to us. May it be the good pleasure of
our Lord to give it us drop by drop, though it may cost us all the
trials in the world.

6. He showeth great mercy unto him to whom He
gives the grace and resolution to strive for this blessing with all
his might; for God withholds Himself from no one who perseveres. He
will by little and little strengthen that soul, so that it may come
forth victorious. I say resolution, because of the multitude of those
things which Satan puts before it at first, to keep it back from
beginning to travel on this road; for he knoweth what harm will befall
him therebyâ€”he will lose not only that soul, but many others also.
If he who enters on this road does violence to himself, with the help
of God, so as to reach the summit of perfection, such a one, I
believe, will never go alone to Heaven; he will always take many with
him: God gives to him, as to a good captain, those who shall be of
his company.

7. Thus, then, the dangers and difficulties
which Satan puts before them are so many, that they have need, not of
a little, but of a very great, resolution, and great grace from God,
to save them from falling away.

8. Speaking, then, of their beginnings who are
determined to follow after this good, and to succeed in their
enterpriseâ€”what I began
to say[170] of mystical
theologyâ€”I believe they call it by that nameâ€”I shall proceed with
hereafterâ€”I have to say that the labour is greatest at first; for it
is they who toil, our Lord, indeed, giving them strength. In the
other degrees of prayer, there is more of fruition; although they who
are in the beginning, the middle, and the end, have their crosses to
carry: the crosses, however, are different. They who would follow
Christ, if they do not wish to be

lost, must walk in the way He walked Himself. Blessed labours!
even here, in this life, so superabundantly rewarded!

9. I shall have to make use of a comparison; I
should like to avoid it, because I am a woman, and write simply what I
have been commanded. But this language of spirituality is so
difficult of utterance for those who are not learned, and such am I.
I have therefore to seek for some means to make the matter plain. It
may be that the comparison will very rarely be to the purposeâ€”your
reverence will be amused when you see my stupidity. I think, now, I
have either read or heard of this comparison; but as my memory is bad,
I know not where, nor on what occasion; however, I am satisfied with
it for my
present purpose.[171]

10. A beginner must look upon himself as
making a garden, wherein our Lord may take His delight, but in a soil
unfruitful, and abounding in weeds. His Majesty roots up the weeds,
and has to plant good herbs. Let us, then, take for granted that this
is already done when a soul is determined to give itself to prayer,
and has begun the practice of it. We have, then, as good gardeners,
by the help of God, to see that the plants grow, to water them
carefully, that they may not die, but produce blossoms, which shall
send forth much fragrance, refreshing to our Lord, so that He may come
often for His pleasure into this garden, and delight Himself in the
midst of these virtues.

11. Let us now see how this garden is to be
watered, that we may understand what we have to do: how much trouble
it will cost us, whether the gain be greater than the trouble, or how
long a time it will take us. It seems to me that the garden may be
watered in four ways: by water taken out of a well, which is very
laborious; or with water raised by means of an engine and buckets,
drawn by a windlassâ€”I have drawn it this

way sometimesâ€”it is a less troublesome way than the first, and
gives more water; or by a stream or brook, whereby the garden is
watered in a much better wayâ€”for the soil is more thoroughly
saturated, and there is no necessity to water it so often, and the
labour of the gardener is much less; or by showers of rain, when our
Lord Himself waters it, without labour on our partâ€”and this way is
incomparably better than all the others of which I have spoken.

12. Now, then, for the application of these
four ways of irrigation by which the garden is to be maintained; for
without water it must fail. The comparison is to my purpose, and it
seems to me that by the help of it I shall be able to explain, in some
measure, the four degrees of prayer to which our Lord, of His
goodness, has occasionally raised my soul. May He graciously grant
that I may so speak as to be of some service to one of those who has
commanded me to write, whom our Lord has raised in four months to a
greater height than I have reached in seventeen years! He prepared
himself better than I did, and therefore is his garden without labour
on his part, irrigated by these four watersâ€”though the last of them
is only drop by drop; but it is growing in such a way, that soon, by
the help of our Lord, he will be swallowed up therein, and it will be
a pleasure to me, if he finds my explanation absurd, that he should
laugh at it.

13. Of those who are beginners in prayer, we
may say, that they are those who draw the water up out of the wellâ€”a
process which, as I have said, is very laborious; for they must be
wearied in keeping the senses recollected, and this is a great labour,
because the senses have been hitherto accustomed to distractions. It
is necessary for beginners to accustom themselves to disregard what
they hear or see, and to put it away from them during the time of
prayer; they must be alone, and in retirement think over their past
life. Though all must do this many times, beginners

as well as those more advanced; all, however, must not do so
equally, as I shall
show hereafter.[172]
Beginners at first suffer much, because they are not convinced that
they are penitent for their sins; and yet they are, because they are
so sincerely resolved on serving God. They must strive to meditate on
the life of Christ, and the understanding is wearied thereby. Thus
far we can advance of ourselvesâ€”that is, by the grace of Godâ€”for
without that, as every one knows, we never can have one
good thought.

14. This is beginning to draw water up out of
the well. God grant there may be water in it! That, however, does
not depend on us; we are drawing it, and doing what we can towards
watering the flowers. So good is God, that when, for reasons known to
His Majestyâ€”perhaps for our greater goodâ€”it is His will the well
should be dry, He Himself preserves the flowers without waterâ€”we,
like good gardeners, doing what lies in our powerâ€”and makes our
virtues grow. By water here I mean tears, and if there be none, then
tenderness and an inward feeling of devotion.

15. What, then, will he do here who sees that,
for many days, he is conscious only of aridity, disgust, dislike, and
so great an unwillingness to go to the well for water, that he would
give it up altogether, if he did not remember that he has to please
and serve the Lord of the garden; if he did not trust that his service
was not in vain, and did not hope for some gain by a labour so great
as that of lowering the bucket into the well so often, and drawing it
up without water in it? It will happen that he is often unable to
move his arms for that purpose, or to have one good thought: working
with the understanding is drawing water out of the well.

16. What, then, once more, will the gardener
do now? He must rejoice and take comfort, and consider it as the
greatest favour to labour in the garden of so

great an Emperor; and as he knows that he is pleasing Him in the
matterâ€”and his purpose must not be to please himself, but Himâ€”let
him praise Him greatly for the trust He has in himâ€”for He sees that,
without any recompense, he is taking so much care of that which has
been confided to him; let him help Him to carry the Cross, and let him
think how He carried it all His life long; let him not seek his
kingdom here, nor ever intermit his prayer; and so let him resolve, if
this aridity should last even his whole life long, never to let Christ
fall down beneath
the Cross.[173]

17. The time will come when he shall be paid
once for all. Let him have no fear that his labour is in vain: he
serves a good Master, Whose eyes are upon him. Let him make no
account of evil thoughts, but remember that Satan suggested them to
St. Jerome also in the
desert.[174] These labours have their reward, I
know it; for I am one who underwent them for many years. When I drew
but one drop of water out of this blessed well, I considered it was a
mercy of God. I know these labours are very great, and require, I
think, greater courage than many others in this world; but I have seen
clearly that God does not leave them without a great recompense, even
in this life; for it is very certain that in one hour, during which
our Lord gave me to taste His sweetness, all the anxieties which I
had to bear when persevering in prayer seem to me ever afterwards
perfectly rewarded.

18. I believe that it is our Lord's good
pleasure frequently in the beginning, and at times in the end, to send
these torments, and many other incidental temptations,

to try those who love Him, and to ascertain if they will drink the
chalice,[175] and help Him to carry the Cross,
before He intrusts them with His great treasures. I believe it to be
for our good that His Majesty should lead us by this way, so that we
may perfectly understand how worthless we are; for the graces which He
gives afterwards are of a dignity so great, that He will have us by
experience know our wretchedness before He grants them, that it may
not be with us as it was with Lucifer.

19. What canst Thou do, O my Lord, that is not
for the greater good of that soul which Thou knowest to be already
Thine, and which gives itself up to Thee to follow Thee whithersoever
Thou goest, even to the death of the Cross; and which is determined to
help Thee to carry that Cross, and not to leave Thee alone with it?
He who shall discern this resolution in himself has nothing to fear:
no, no; spiritual people have nothing to fear. There is no reason why
he should be distressed who is already raised to so high a degree as
this is of wishing to converse in solitude with God, and to abandon
the amusements of the world. The greater part of the work is done;
give praise to His Majesty for it, and trust in His goodness who has
never failed those who love Him. Close the eyes of your imagination,
and do not ask why He gives devotion to this person in so short a
time, and none to me after so many years. Let us believe that all is
for our greater good; let His Majesty guide us whithersoever He will:
we are not our own, but His. He shows us mercy enough when it is His
pleasure we should be willing to dig in His garden, and to be so near
the Lord of it: He certainly is near to us. If it be His will that
these plants and flowers should growâ€”some of them when He gives water
we may draw from the well, others when He gives noneâ€”what is that to
me? Do Thou, O Lord,

accomplish Thy will; let me never offend Thee, nor let my virtues
perish; if Thou hast given me any, it is out of Thy mere goodness. I
wish to suffer, because Thou, O Lord, hast suffered; do Thou in every
way fulfil Thy will in me, and may it never be the pleasure of Thy
Majesty that a gift of so high a price as that of Thy love, be given
to people who serve Thee only because of the sweetness they
find thereby.

20. It is much to be observed, and I say so
because I know by experience, that the soul which, begins to walk in
the way of mental prayer with resolution, and is determined not to
care much, neither to rejoice nor to be greatly afflicted, whether
sweetness and tenderness fail it, or our Lord grants them, has already
travelled a great part of the road. Let that soul, then, have no fear
that it is going back, though it may frequently stumble; for the
building is begun on a firm foundation. It is certain that the love
of God does not consist in tears, nor in this sweetness and tenderness
which we for the most part desire, and with which we console
ourselves; but rather in serving Him in justice, fortitude, and
humility. That seems to me to be a receiving rather than a giving of
anything on our part.

21. As for poor women, such as I am, weak and
infirm of purpose, it seems to me to be necessary that I should be led
on through consolations, as God is doing now, so that I might be able
to endure certain afflictions which it has pleased His Majesty I
should have. But when the servants of God, who are men of weight,
learning, and sense, make so much account, as I see they do, whether
God gives them sweetness in devotion or not, I am disgusted when I
listen to them. I do not say that they ought not to accept it, and
make much of it, when God gives itâ€”because, when He gives it, His
Majesty sees it to be necessary for themâ€”but I do say that they ought
not to grow weary when they have it not. They should then understand
that they have no need of it, and be masters of themselves, when His

Majesty does not give it. Let them be convinced of this, there is
a fault here; I have had experience of it, and know it to be so. Let
them believe it as an imperfection: they are not advancing in liberty
of spirit, but shrinking like cowards from the assault.

22. It is not so much to beginners that I say
thisâ€”though I do insist upon it, because it is of great importance to
them that they should begin with this liberty and resolutionâ€”as to
others, of whom there are many, who make a beginning, but never come
to the end; and that is owing, I believe, in great measure, to their
not having embraced the Cross from the first. They are distressed,
thinking they are doing nothing; the understanding ceases from its
acts, and they cannot bear it. Yet, perhaps, at that very time, the
will is feeding and gathering strength, and they know it not.

23. We must suppose that our Lord does not
regard these things; for though they seem to us to be faults, yet they
are not. His Majesty knoweth our misery and natural vileness better
than we do ourselves. He knoweth that these souls long to be always
thinking of Him and loving Him. It is this resolution that He seeks
in us; the other anxieties which we inflict upon ourselves serve to no
other end but to disquiet the soulâ€”which, if it be unable to derive
any profit in one hour, will by them be disabled for four. This comes
most frequently from bodily indispositionâ€”I have had very great
experience in the matter, and I know it is true; for I have carefully
observed it and discussed it afterwards with spiritual personsâ€”for we
are so wretched, that this poor prisoner of a soul shares in the
miseries of the body. The changes of the seasons, and the alterations
of the humours, very often compel it, without fault of its own, not to
do what it would, but rather to suffer in every way. Meanwhile, the
more we force the soul on these occasions, the greater the mischief,
and the longer it lasts. Some discretion must

be used, in order to ascertain whether ill-health be the occasion
or not. The poor soul must not be stifled. Let those who thus suffer
understand that they are ill; a change should be made in the hour of
prayer, and oftentimes that change should be continued for some days.
Let souls pass out of this desert as they can, for it is very often
the misery of one that loves God to see itself living in such
wretchedness, unable to do what it would, because it has to keep so
evil a guest as the body.

24. I spoke of discretion, because sometimes
the devil will do the same work; and so it is not always right to omit
prayer when the understanding is greatly distracted and disturbed, nor
to torment the soul to the doing of that which is out of its power.
There are other things then to be doneâ€”exterior works, as of charity
and spiritual readingâ€”though at times the soul will not be able to do
them. Take care, then, of the body, for the love of God, because at
many other times the body must serve the soul; and let recourse be had
to some recreationsâ€”holy onesâ€”such as conversation, or going out
into the fields, as the confessor shall advise. Altogether,
experience is a great matter, and it makes us understand what is
convenient for us. Let God be served in all thingsâ€”His yoke is
sweet;[176] and it is of great importance that
the soul should not be dragged, as they say, but carried gently, that
it may make greater progress.

25. So, then, I come back to what I advised
before[177]â€”and though I repeat it often, it
matters not; it is of great importance that no one should distress
himself on account of aridities, or because his thoughts are restless
and distracted; neither should he be afflicted thereat, if he would
attain to liberty of spirit, and not be always in trouble. Let him
begin by not being afraid of the Cross, and he will see how our Lord
will help him to carry it, how joyfully he will advance, and

what profit he will derive from it all. It is now clear, if there
is no water in the well, that we at least can put none into it. It is
true we must not be careless about drawing it when there is any in it,
because at that time it is the will of God to
multiply our virtues by means thereof.

The Life

Chapter XII

What We Can Ourselves Do. The Evil of Desiring to Attain to
Supernatural States Before Our Lord Calls Us.

My aim in the foregoing chapterâ€”though I
digressed to many other matters, because they seemed to me very
necessaryâ€”was to explain how much we may attain to of ourselves; and
how, in these beginnings of devotion, we are able in some degree to
help ourselves: because thinking of, and pondering on, the sufferings
of our Lord for our sakes moves us to compassion, and the sorrow and
tears which result therefrom are sweet. The thought of the
blessedness we hope for, of the love our Lord bore us, and of His
resurrection, kindle within us a joy which is neither wholly spiritual
nor wholly sensual; but the joy is virtuous, and the sorrow is
most meritorious.

2. Of this kind are all those things which
produce a devotion acquired in part by means of the understanding,
though it can neither be merited nor had, if God grants it not. It is
best for a soul which God has not raised to a higher state than this
not to try to rise of itself. Let this be well considered, because
all the soul will gain in that way will be a loss. In this state it
can make many acts of good resolutions to do much for God, and
enkindle its love; other acts also, which may help the growth of
virtues, according to that which is written in a book called The
Art of Serving

God,[178] a most excellent work,
and profitable for those who are in this state, because the
understanding is active now.

3. The soul may also place itself in the
presence of Christ, and accustom itself to many acts of love directed
to His sacred Humanity, and remain in His presence continually, and
speak to Him, pray to Him in its necessities, and complain to Him of
its troubles; be merry with Him in its joys, and yet not forget Him
because of its joys. All this it may do without set prayers, but
rather with words befitting its desires and its needs.

4. This is an excellent way whereby to advance,
and that very quickly. He that will strive to have this precious
companionship, and will make much of it, and will sincerely love our
Lord, to whom we owe so much, is one, in my opinion, who has made some
progress. There is therefore no reason why we should trouble
ourselves because we have no sensible devotion, as I said
before.[179] But let us rather give thanks to
our Lord, who allows us to have a desire to please Him, though our
works be poor. This practice of the presence of Christ is profitable
in all states of prayer, and is a most safe way of advancing in the
first state, and of attaining quickly to the second; and as for the
last states, it secures us against those risks which the devil
may occasion.

5. This, then, is what we can do. He who would
pass out of this state, and upraise his spirit, in order to taste
consolations denied him, will, in my opinion, lose both the one and
the other.[180] These consolations being
supernatural, and the understanding inactive, the soul

is then left desolate and in great aridity. As the foundation of
the whole building is humility, the nearer we draw unto God the more
this virtue should grow; if it does not, everything is lost. It seems
to be a kind of pride when we seek to ascend higher, seeing that God
descends so low, when He allows us, being what we are, to draw near
unto Him.

6. It must not be supposed that I am now
speaking of raising our thoughts to the consideration of the high
things of heaven and of its glory, or unto God and His great wisdom.
I never did this myself, because I had not the capacity for itâ€”as I
said before;[181] and I was so worthless, that,
as to thinking even of the things of earth, God gave me grace to
understand this truth: that in me it was no slight boldness to do so.
How much more, then, the thinking of heavenly things? Others,
however, will profit in that way, particularly those who are learned;
for learning, in my opinion, is a great treasury in the matter of this
exercise, if it be accompanied with humility. I observed this a few
days ago in some learned men who had shortly before made a beginning,
and had made great progress. This is the reason why I am so very
anxious that many learned men may become spiritual. I shall speak of
this by and by.[182]

7. What I am sayingâ€”namely, let them not rise
if God does not raise themâ€”is the language of spirituality. He will
understand me who has had any experience; and I know not how to
explain it, if what I have said does not make it plain.

8. In mystical theologyâ€”of which I spoke
before[183]â€”the understanding ceases from its
acts, because God suspends itâ€”as I shall explain by and by, if I
can;[184] and God give me the grace to do so.
We must neither imagine nor think that we can of ourselves bring about
this suspension. That is what I say must not be

done; nor must we allow the understanding to cease from its acts;
for in that case we shall be stupid and cold, and the result will be
neither the one nor the other. For when our Lord suspends the
understanding, and makes it cease from its acts, He puts before it
that which astonishes and occupies it: so that without making any
reflections, it shall comprehend in a
moment[185] more than we
could comprehend in many years with all the efforts in the world.

9. To have the powers of the mind occupied, and
to think that you can keep them at the same time quiet, is folly. I
repeat it, though it be not so understood, there is no great humility
in this; and, if it be blameless, it is not left unpunishedâ€”it is
labour thrown away, and the soul is a little disgusted: it feels like
a man about to take a leap, and is held back. Such a one seems to
have used up his strength already, and finds himself unable to do that
which he wished to have done: so here, in the scanty gain that
remains, he who will consider the matter will trace that slight want
of humility of which I
have spoken;[186] for
that virtue has this excellence: there is no good work attended by
humility that leaves the soul disgusted. It seems to me that I have
made this clear enough; yet, after all, perhaps only for myself. May
our Lord open their eyes who read this, by giving them experience; and
then however slight that experience may be, they will immediately
understand it.

10. For many years I read much, and understood
nothing; and for a long time, too, though God gave me understanding
herein, I never could utter a word by which I might explain it to
others. This was no little trouble to me. When His Majesty pleases,
He teaches everything in a moment, so that I am lost in wonder. One
thing I can truly say: though I conversed with many spiritual persons,
who sought to make me understand

what our Lord was giving me, in order that I might be able to speak
of it, the fact is, that my dulness was so great, that I derived no
advantage whatever, much or little, from their teaching.

11. Or it may be, as His Majesty has always
been my Masterâ€”may He be blessed for ever! for I am ashamed of myself
that I can say so with truthâ€”that it was His good pleasure I should
meet with no one to whom I should be indebted in this matter. So,
without my wishing or asking itâ€”I never was careful about this, for
that would have been a virtue in me, but only about vanityâ€”God gave
me to understand with all distinctness in a moment, and also enabled
me to express myself, so that my confessors were astonished but I more
than they, because I knew my own dulness better. It is not long since
this happened. And so that which our Lord has not taught me, I seek
not to know it, unless it be a matter that touches my conscience.

12. Again I repeat my advice: it is of great
moment not to raise our spirit ourselves, if our Lord does not raise
it for us; and if He does, there can be no mistaking it. For women,
it is specially wrong, because the devil can delude themâ€”though I am
certain our Lord will never allow him to hurt any one who labours to
draw near unto God in humility. On the contrary, such a one will
derive more profit and advantage out of that attack by which Satan
intended to hurt him.

13. I have dwelt so long upon this matter
because this way of prayer is the most common with beginners, and
because the advice I have given is very important. It will be found
much better given elsewhere: that I admit; and I admit, also, that in
writing it I am ashamed of myself, and covered with confusionâ€”though
not so much so as I ought to be. Blessed for ever be our Lord, of
whose will and pleasure it is that I am allowed, being what I am, to
speak of things which are His, of such a nature, and so deep.

The Life

Chapter XIII

Of Certain Temptations of Satan. Instructions
Relating Thereto.

I have thought it right to speak of certain
temptations I have observed to which beginners are liableâ€”some of
them I have had myselfâ€”and to give some advice about certain things
which to me seem necessary. In the beginning, then, we should strive
to be cheerful and unconstrained; for there are people who think it is
all over with devotion if they relax themselves ever so little. It is
right to be afraid of self; so that, having no confidence in
ourselves, much or little, we may not place ourselves in those
circumstances wherein men usually sin against God; for it is a most
necessary fear, till we become very perfect in virtue. And there are
not many who are so perfect as to be able to relax themselves on those
occasions which offer temptations to their natural temper; for always
while we live, were it only to preserve humility, it is well we should
know our own miserable nature; but there are many occasions on which
it is permitted usâ€”as I said
just now[187]â€”to
take some recreation, in order that we may with more vigour resume
our prayer.

2. Discretion is necessary throughout. We must
have great confidence; because it is very necessary for us not to
contract our desires, but put our trust in God; for, if we do violence
to ourselves by little and little, we shall, though not at once, reach
that height which many Saints by His grace have reached. If they had
never resolved to desire, and had never by little and little acted
upon that resolve, they never could have ascended to so high
a state.

3. His Majesty seeks and loves courageous
souls; but they must be humble in their ways, and have no

confidence in themselves. I never saw one of those lag behind on
the road; and never a cowardly soul, though aided by humility, make
that progress in many years which the former makes in a few. I am
astonished at the great things done on this road by encouraging
oneself to undertake great things, though we may not have the strength
for them at once; the soul takes a flight upwards and ascends high,
though, like a little bird whose wings are weak, it grows weary
and rests.

4. At one time I used often to think of those
words of St. Paul: "That all things are
possible in God."[188] I saw clearly that
of myself I could do nothing. This was of great service to me. So
also was the saying of St. Augustine:
"Give me, O Lord, what Thou commandest, and command what Thou
wilt."[189] I was often thinking how St. Peter lost nothing by throwing himself into
the sea, though he was
afterwards afraid.[190]
These first resolutions are a great matterâ€”although it is necessary
in the beginning that we should be very reserved, controlled by the
discretion and authority of a director; but we must take care that he
be one who does not teach us to crawl like toads, nor one who may be
satisfied when the soul shows itself fit only to catch lizards.
Humility must always go before: so that we may know that this strength
can come out of no strength of our own.

5. But it is necessary we should understand
what manner of humility this should be, because Satan, I believe, does
great harm; for he hinders those who begin to pray from going onwards,
by suggesting to them false notions of humility. He makes them think
it is pride to have large desires, to wish to imitate the Saints, and
to long for martyrdom. He tells us forthwith, or he makes us think,
that the actions of the

Saints are to be admired, not to be imitated, by us who are
sinners. I, too, say the same thing; but we must see what those
actions are which we are to admire, and what those are which we are to
imitate; for it would be wrong in a person who is weak and sickly to
undertake much fasting and sharp penances to retire into the desert,
where he could not sleep, nor find anything to eat; or, indeed, to
undertake any austerities of this kind.

6. But we ought to think that we can force
ourselves, by the grace of God, to hold the world in profound
contemptâ€”to make light of honour, and be detached from our
possessions. Our hearts, however, are so mean that we think the earth
would fail us under our feet, if we were to cease to care even for a
moment for the body, and give ourselves up to spirituality. Then we
think that to have all we require contributes to recollection, because
anxieties disturb prayer. It is painful to me that our confidence in
God is so scanty, and our self-love so strong, as that any anxiety
about our own necessities should disturb us. But so it is; for when
our spiritual progress is so slight, a mere nothing will give us as
much trouble as great and important matters will give to others. And
we think ourselves spiritual!

7. Now, to me, this way of going on seems to
betray a disposition to reconcile soul and body together, in order
that we may not miss our ease in this world, and yet have the fruition
of God in the next; and so it will be if we walk according to justice,
clinging to virtue; but it is the pace of a henâ€”it will never bring
us to liberty of spirit. It is a course of proceeding, as it seems to
me, most excellent for those who are in the married state, and who
must live according to their vocation; but for the other state, I by
no means wish for such a method of progress, neither can I be made to
believe it to be sound; for I have tried it, and I should have
remained in that way, if our Lord in His goodness had not taught me
another and a shorter road.

8. Though, in the matter of desires, I always
had generous ones; but I laboured, as I said
before,[191] to make my prayer, and, at the same
time, to live at my ease. If there had been any one to rouse me to a
higher flight, he might have brought me, so I think, to a state in
which these desires might have had their effects; but, for our sins,
so few and so rare are they whose discretion in that matter is not
excessive. That, I believe, is reason enough why those who begin do
not attain more quickly to great perfection; for our Lord never fails
us, and it is not His fault; the fault and the wretchedness of this
being all our own.

9. We may also imitate the Saints by striving
after solitude and silence, and many other virtues that will not kill
these wretched bodies of ours, which insist on being treated so
orderly, that they may disorder the soul; and Satan, too, helps much
to make them unmanageable. When he sees us a little anxious about
them, he wants nothing more to convince us that our way of life must
kill us, and destroy our health; even if we weep, he makes us afraid
of blindness. I have passed through this, and therefore I know it;
but I know of no better sight or better health that we can desire,
than the loss of both in such a cause. Being myself so sickly, I was
always under constraint, and good for nothing, till I resolved to make
no account of my body nor of my health; even now I am
worthless enough.

10. But when it pleased God to let me find out
this device of Satan, I used to say to the latter, when he suggested
to me that I was ruining my health, that my death was of no
consequence; when he suggested rest, I replied that I did not want
rest, but the Cross. His other suggestions I treated in the same way.
I saw clearly that in most things, though I was really very sickly, it
was either a temptation of Satan, or a weakness on my part. My health
has been much better

since I have ceased to look after my ease and comforts. It is of
great importance not to let our own thoughts frighten us in the
beginning, when we set ourselves to pray. Believe me in this, for I
know it by experience. As a warning to others, it may be that this
story of my failures may be useful.

11. There is another temptation, which is very
common: when people begin to have pleasure in the rest and the fruit
of prayer, they will have everybody else be very spiritual also. Now,
to desire this is not wrong, but to try to bring it about may not be
right, except with great discretion and with much reserve, without any
appearance of teaching. He who would do any good in this matter ought
to be endowed with solid virtues, that he may not put temptation in
the way of others. It happened to meâ€”that is how I know itâ€”when, as
I said before,[192] I made others apply
themselves to prayer, to be a source of temptation and disorder; for,
on the one hand, they heard me say great things of the blessedness of
prayer, and, on the other, saw how poor I was in virtue,
notwithstanding my prayer. They had good reasons on their side, and
afterwards they told me of it; for they knew not how these things
could be compatible one with the other. This it was that made them
not to regard that as evil which was really so in itself, namely, that
they saw me do it myself, now and then, during the time that they
thought well of me in some measure.

12. This is Satan's work: he seems to take
advantage of the virtues we may have, for the purpose of giving a
sanction, so far as he can, to the evil he aims at; how slight soever
that evil may be, his gain must be great, if it prevail in a religious
house. How much, then, must his gain have been, when the evil I did
was so very great! And thus, during many years, only three persons
were the better for what I said to them; but now that our Lord has
made me stronger in virtue,

in the course of two or three years many persons have profited, as
I shall
show hereafter.[193]

13. There is another great inconvenience in
addition to this: the loss to our own soul; for the utmost we have to
do in the beginning is to take care of our own soul only, and consider
that in the whole world there is only God and our soul. This is a
point of great importance.

14. There is another temptationâ€”we ought to
be aware of it, and be cautious in our conduct: persons are carried
away by a zeal for virtue, through the pain which the sight of the
sins and failings of others occasions them. Satan tells them that
this pain arises only out of their desire that God may not be
offended, and out of their anxiety about His honour; so they
immediately seek to remedy the evil. This so disturbs them, that they
cannot pray. The greatest evil of all is their thinking this an act
of virtue, of perfection, and of a great zeal for God. I am not
speaking of the pain which public sins occasion, if they be habitual
in any community, nor of wrongs done to the Church, nor of heresies by
which so many souls are visibly lost; for this pain is most wholesome,
and being wholesome is no source of disquiet. The security,
therefore, of that soul which would apply itself to prayer lies in
casting away from itself all anxiety about persons and things, in
taking care of itself, and in pleasing God. This is the most
profitable course.

15. If I were to speak of the mistakes which I
have seen people make, in reliance on their own good intentions, I
should never come to an end. Let us labour, therefore, always to
consider the virtues and the good qualities which we discern in
others, and with our own great sins cover our eyes, so that we may see
none of their failings. This is one way of doing our work; and though
we may not be perfect in it at once, we shall acquire one great
virtueâ€”we shall look upon all

men as better than ourselves; and we begin to acquire that virtue
in this way, by the grace of God, which is necessary in all
thingsâ€”for when we have it not, all our endeavours are in vainâ€”and
by imploring Him to give us this virtue; for He never fails us, if we
do what we can.

16. This advice, also, they must take into
their consideration who make much use of their understanding,
eliciting from one subject many thoughts and conceptions. As to those
who, like myself, cannot do it, I have no advice to give, except that
they are to have patience, until our Lord shall send them both matter
and light; for they can do so little of themselves, that their
understanding is a hindrance to them rather than a help.

17. To those, then, who can make use of their
understanding, I say that they are not to spend the whole time in that
way; for though it be most meritorious, yet they must not, when prayer
is sweet, suppose that there never will be a Sunday or a time when no
work ought to be done. They think it lost time to do otherwise; but I
think that loss their greatest gain. Let them rather, as I have
said,[194] place themselves in the presence of
Christ, and, without fatiguing the understanding, converse with Him,
and in Him rejoice, without wearying themselves in searching out
reasons; but let them rather lay their necessities before Him, and the
just reasons there are why He should not suffer us in His presence: at
one time this, at another time that, lest the soul should be wearied
by always eating of the same food. These meats are most savoury and
wholesome, if the palate be accustomed to them; they will furnish a
great support for the life of the soul, and they have many other
advantages also.

18. I will explain myself further; for the
doctrine of prayer is difficult, and, without a director, very hard to
understand. Though I would willingly be concise, and

though a mere hint is enough for his clear intellect who has
commanded me to write on the subject of prayer, yet so it is, my
dulness does not allow me to say or explain in a few words that which
it is so important to explain well. I, who have gone through so much,
am sorry for those who begin only with books; for there is a strange
difference between that which we learn by reading, and that which we
learn by experience.

19. Going back, then, to what I was saying.
We set ourselves to meditate upon some mystery of the Passion: let us
say, our Lord at the pillar. The understanding goeth about seeking
for the sources out of which came the great dolours and the bitter
anguish which His Majesty endured in that desolation. It considers
that mystery in many lights, which the intellect, if it be skilled in
its work, or furnished with learning, may there obtain. This is a
method of prayer which should be to everyone the beginning, the
middle, and the end: a most excellent and safe way, until our Lord
shall guide them to other supernatural ways.

20. I say to all, because there are many souls
who make greater progress by meditation on other subjects than on the
Sacred Passion; for as there are many mansions in heaven, so there are
also many roads leading thither. Some persons advance by considering
themselves in hell, others in heavenâ€”and these are distressed by
meditations on hell. Others meditate on death; some persons, if
tender-hearted, are greatly fatigued by continual meditations on the
Passion; but are consoled and make progress when they meditate on the
power and greatness of God in His creatures, and on His love visible
in all things. This is an admirable methodâ€”not omitting, however,
from time to time, the Passion and Life of Christ, the Source of all
good that ever came, and that ever shall come.

21. He who begins is in need of instruction,
whereby he may ascertain what profits him most. For this end

it is very necessary he should have a director, who ought to be a
person of experience; for if he be not, he will make many mistakes,
and direct a soul without understanding its ways, or suffering it to
understand them itself; for such a soul, knowing that obedience to a
director is highly meritorious, dares not transgress the commandments
it receives. I have met with souls cramped and tormented, because he
who directed them had no experience: that made me sorry for them.
Some of them knew not what to do with themselves; for directors who do
not understand the spirit of their penitents afflict them soul and
body, and hinder
their progress.[195]

22. One person I had to do with had been kept
by her director for eight years, as it were, in prison; he would not
allow her to quit the subject of self-knowledge; and yet our Lord had
already raised her to the prayer of quiet; so she had much
to suffer.

23. Although this matter of self-knowledge
must never be put asideâ€”for there is no soul so great a giant on this
road but has frequent need to turn back, and be again an infant at the
breast; and this must never be forgotten. I shall repeat
it,[196] perhaps, many times, because of its
great importanceâ€”for among all the states of prayer, however high
they may be, there is not one in which it is not often necessary to go
back to the beginning. The knowledge of our sins, and of our own
selves, is the bread which we have to eat with all the meats, however
delicate they may be, in the way of prayer; without this bread, life
cannot be sustained, though it must be taken by measure. When a soul
beholds itself resigned, and clearly understands that there is no
goodness in itâ€”when it feels itself abashed in the presence of so
great a King, and sees how little it pays of the great debt it owes
Himâ€”why should it be necessary for it to waste its time on
this subject?

Why should it not rather proceed to other matters which our Lord
places before it, and for neglecting which there is no reason? His
Majesty surely knows better than we do what kind of food is proper
for us.

24. So, then, it is of great consequence that
the director should be prudentâ€”I mean, of sound understandingâ€”and a
man of experience. If, in addition to this, he is a learned man, it
is a very great matter. But if these three qualities cannot be had
together, the first two are the most important, because learned men
may be found with whom we can communicate when it is necessary. I
mean, that for beginners learned men are of little use, if they are
not men of prayer. I do not say that they are to have nothing to do
with learned men, because a spirituality, the foundations of which are
not resting on the truth, I would rather were not accompanied with
prayer. Learning is a great thing, for it teaches us who know so
little, and enlightens us; so when we have come to the knowledge of
the truths contained in the holy writings, we do what we ought to do.
From silly devotions, God deliver us!

25. I will explain myself further, for I am
meddling, I believe, with too many matters. It has always been my
failing that I could never make myself understoodâ€”as I said
before[197]â€”but at the cost of many words. A
nun begins to practise prayer; if her director be silly, and if he
should take it into his head, he will make her feel that it is better
for her to obey him than her own superior. He will do all this
without any evil purpose, thinking that he is doing right. For if he
be not a religious himself, he will think this right enough. If his
penitent be a married woman, he will tell her that it is better for
her to give herself unto prayer, when she ought to attend to her
house, although she may thereby displease her husband. And so it is,
he knows not how to make arrangements for time and business,
so that

everything may be done as it ought to be done; he has no light
himself, and can therefore give none to others, however much he may
wish to do so.

26. Though learning does not seem necessary
for discretion, my opinion has always been, and will be, that every
Christian should continue to be guided by a learned director if he
can, and the more learned the better. They who walk in the way of
prayer have the greater need of learning; and the more spiritual they
are the greater is that need. Let them not say that learned men not
given to prayer are not fit counsellors for those who pray: that is a
delusion. I have conversed with many; and now for some years I have
sought them the more, because of my greater need of them. I have
always been fond of them; for though some of them have no experience,
they do not dislike spirituality, neither are they ignorant of what it
is, because in the sacred writings with which they are familiar they
always find the truth about spirituality. I am certain myself that a
person given to prayer, who treats of these matters with learned men,
unless he is deceived with his own consent, will never be carried away
by any illusions of the devil. I believe that the evil spirits are
exceedingly afraid of learned men who are humble and virtuous, knowing
that they will be found out and defeated by them.

27. I have said this because there are
opinions held to the effect that learned men, if they are not
spiritual, are not suited for persons given to prayer. I have just
said that a spiritual director is necessary; but if he be not a
learned man, he is a great hindrance. It will help us much if we
consult those who are learned, provided they be virtuous; even if they
be not spiritual, they will be of service to me, and God will enable
them to understand what they should teach; He will even make them
spiritual, in order that they may help us on. I do not say this
without having had experience of it; and I have met with more
than two.

28. I say, then, that a person who shall
resign his soul to be wholly subject to one director will make a great
mistake, if he is in religion, unless he finds a director of this
kind, because of the obedience due to his own superior. His director
may be deficient in the three requisites I speak
of,[198] and that will be no slight cross,
without voluntarily subjecting the understanding to one whose
understanding is none of the best. At least, I have never been able
to bring myself to do it, neither does it seem to me to be right.

29. But if he be a person living in the world,
let him praise God for the power he has of choosing whom he will obey,
and let him not lose so excellent a liberty; yea, rather let him be
without a director till he finds himâ€”for our Lord will give him one,
if he is really humble, and has a desire to meet with the right
person. I praise God greatlyâ€”we women, and those who are unlearned,
ought always to render Him unceasing thanksâ€”because there are persons
who, by labours so great, have attained to the truth, of which we
unlearned people are ignorant. I often wonder at learned
menâ€”particularly those who are in religionâ€”when I think of the
trouble they have had in acquiring that which they communicate to me
for my good, and that without any more trouble to me than the asking
for it. And yet there are people who will not take advantage of their
learning: God grant it may not be so!

30. I see them undergo the poverty of the
religious life, which is great, together with its penances, its meagre
food, the yoke of obedience, which makes me ashamed of myself at
times; and with all this, interrupted sleep, trials everywhere,
everywhere the Cross. I think it would be a great evil for any one to
lose so great a good by his own fault. It may be some of us, who are
exempted from these burdensâ€”who have our food put into our mouths, as
they say, and live at our easeâ€”may think, because we give

ourselves a little more to prayer, that we are raised above the
necessity of such great hardships. Blessed be Thou, O Lord, who hast
made me so incapable and so useless; but I bless Thee still more for
thisâ€”that Thou quickenest so many to quicken us. Our prayer must
therefore be very earnest for those who give us light. What should we
be without them in the midst of these violent storms which now disturb
the Church? If some have fallen, the good will shine more and
more.[199] May it please our Lord to hold
them in His hand, and help them, that they may help us.

31. I have gone far away from the subject I
began to speak of; but all is to the purpose for those who are
beginners, that they may begin a journey which is so high in such a
way as that they shall go on by the right road. Coming back, then, to
what I spoke
of before,[200] the meditation on
Christ bound to the pillar, it is well we should make reflections for
a time, and consider the sufferings He there endured, for whom He
endured them, who He is who endured them, and the love with which He
bore them. But a person should not always fatigue himself in making
these reflections, but rather let him remain there with Christ, in the
silence of the understanding.

32. If he is able, let him employ himself in
looking upon Christ, who is looking upon him; let him accompany Him,
and make his petitions to Him; let him humble himself, and delight
himself in Christ, and keep in mind that he never deserved to be
there. When he shall be able to do this, though it may be in the
beginning of his prayer, he will find great advantage; and this way of
prayer brings great advantages with itâ€”at least, so my soul has found
it. I do not know whether I am describing it aright; you, my father,
will see to it. May our Lord grant me to please Him rightly for
ever! Amen.

The Life

Chapter XIV

The Second State of Prayer. Its Supernatural
Character.

Having spoken of the toilsome efforts and of
the strength required for watering the garden when we have to draw the
water out of the well, let us now speak of the second manner of
drawing the water, which the Lord of the vineyard has ordained; of the
machine of wheel and buckets whereby the gardener may draw more water
with less labour, and be able to take some rest without being
continually at work. This, then, is what I am now going to describe;
and I apply it to the prayer called the prayer of quiet.

2. Herein the soul begins to be recollected; it
is now touching on the supernaturalâ€”for it never could by any efforts
of its own attain to this. True, it seems at times to have been
wearied at the wheel, labouring with the understanding, and filling
the buckets; but in this second degree the water is higher, and
accordingly the labour is much less than it was when the water had to
be drawn up out of the well; I mean, that the water is nearer to it,
for grace reveals itself more distinctly to the soul.

3. This is a gathering together of the
faculties of the soul within itself, in order that it may have the
fruition of that contentment in greater sweetness; but the faculties
are not lost, neither are they asleep: the will alone is occupied in
such a way that, without knowing how it has become a captive, it gives
a simple consent to become the prisoner of God; for it knows well what
is to be the captive of Him it loves. O my Jesus and my Lord, how
pressing now is
Thy love![201] It binds our
love in bonds so straitly, that it is not in its power at this moment
to love anything else but Thee.

4. The other two faculties help the will, that
it may render itself capable of the fruition of so great a good;
nevertheless, it occasionally happens, even when the will is in union,
that they hinder it very much: but then it should never heed them at
all, simply abiding in its fruition and
quiet.[202] For if it tried to make them
recollected, it would miss its way together with them, because they
are at this time like doves which are not satisfied with the food the
master of the dovecot gives them without any labouring for it on their
part, and which go forth in quest of it elsewhere, and so hardly find
it that they come back. And so the memory and the understanding come
and go, seeking whether the will is going to give them that into the
fruition ofwhich it has entered itself.

5. If it be our Lord's pleasure to throw them
any food, they stop; if not, they go again to seek it. They must be
thinking that they are of some service to the will; and now and then
the memory or the imagination, seeking to represent to it that of
which it has the fruition, does it harm. The will, therefore, should
be careful to deal with them as I shall explain. Everything that takes
place now in this state brings the very greatest consolation; and the
labour is so slight, that prayer, even if persevered in for some time,
is never wearisome. The reason is, that the understanding is now
working very gently, and is drawing very much more water than it drew
out of the well. The tears, which God now sends, flow with joy;
though we feel them, they are not the result of any efforts of
our own.

6. This water of grand blessings and graces,
which our Lord now supplies, makes the virtues thrive much more,
beyond all comparison, than they did in the previous state of prayer;
for the soul is already ascending out of its wretched state, and some
little knowledge of the blissfulness of glory is communicated

to it. This, I believe, is it that makes the virtues grow the
more, and also to draw nearer to essential virtue, God Himself, from
Whom all virtues proceed; for His Majesty has begun to communicate
Himself to this soul, and will have it feel how He is
communicating Himself.

7. As soon as the soul has arrived thus far, it
begins to lose the desire of earthly
things,[203] and no wonder; for it sees clearly
that, even for a moment, this joy is not to be had on earth; that
there are no riches, no dominion, no honours, no delights, that can
for one instant, even for the twinkling of an eye, minister such a
joy; for it is a true satisfaction, and the soul sees that it really
does satisfy. Now, we who are on earth, as it seems to me, scarcely
ever understand wherein our satisfaction lies, for it is always liable
to disappointment; but in this, at that time, there is none: the
disappointment cometh afterwards, when the soul sees that all is over,
and that it has no power to recover it, neither does it know how; for
if it cut itself in pieces by penance and prayer, and every other kind
of austerities, all would be of little use, if our Lord did not grant
it. God, in His great mercy, will have the soul comprehend that His
Majesty is so near to it, that it need not send messengers to Him, but
may speak to Him itself, and not with a loud crying, because so near
is He already, that He understands even the movements of its lips.

8. It seems absurd to say this, seeing that we
know that God understands us always, and is present with us. It is
so, and there can be no doubt of it; but our Emperor and Lord will
have us now understand that He understands us; and also have us
understand what His presence bringeth about, and that He means in a
special way to begin a work in the soul, which is manifested in the
great joy, inward and outward, which He communicates, and in the
difference there is, as I said just now, between this joy and delight
and all the joys

of earth; for He seems to be filling up the void in our souls
occasioned by our sins.

9. This satisfaction lies in the innermost part
of the soul, and the soul knows not whence, nor how, it came, very
often it knows not what to do, or wish, or pray for. It seems to find
all this at once, and knoweth not what it hath found; nor do I know
how to explain it, because learning is necessary for many things.
Here, indeed, learning would be very much to the purpose, in order to
explain the general and particular helps of grace; for there are many
who know nothing about them. Learning would serve to show how our
Lord now will have the soul to see, as it were, with the naked eye, as
men speak, this particular help of grace, and be also useful in many
other ways wherein I am likely to go astray. But as what I write is
to be seen by those who have the learning to discover whether I make
mistakes or not, I go on without anxiety; for I know I need have none
whatever about either the letter or the spirit, because it is in their
power to whom it is to be sent to do with it as they will: they will
understand it, and blot out whatever may be amiss.

10. I should like them to explain this,
because it is a principal point, and because a soul, when our Lord
begins to bestow these graces upon it, does not understand them, and
does not know what to do with itself; for if God leads it by the way
of fear, as He led me, its trial will be heavy, if there be no one who
understands the state it is in; and to see itself as in a picture is a
great comfort; and then it sees clearly that it is travelling on that
road. The knowledge of what it has to do is a great blessing for it,
so that it may advance forwards in every one of these degrees of
prayer; for I have suffered greatly, and lost much time, because I did
not know what to do; and I am very sorry for those souls who find
themselves alone when they come to this state; for though I read many
spiritual books, wherein this very matter is discussed, they threw
very little

light upon it. And if it be not a soul much exercised in prayer,
it will find it enough to understand its state, be the books ever
so clear.

11. I wish much that our Lord would help me to
describe the effects on the soul of these things, now that they begin
to be supernatural, so that men might know by these effects whether
they come from the Spirit of God. I mean, known as things are known
here belowâ€”though it is always well to live in fear, and on our
guard; for even if they do come from God, now and then the devil will
be able to transform himself into an angel of
light;[204] and the soul, if not experienced
herein, will not understand the matter; and it must have so much
experience for the understanding thereof, that it is necessary it
should have attained to the highest perfection of prayer.

12. The little time I have helps me but
little, and it is therefore necessary His Majesty should undertake it
Himself; for I have to live in community, and have very many things to
employ me, as I am in a house which is newly foundedâ€”as will appear
hereafter;[205] and so I am writing, with very
many interruptions, by little and little at a time. I wish I had
leisure; for when our Lord gives the spirit, it is more easily and
better done; it is then as with a person working embroidery with the
pattern before her; but if the spirit be wanting, there is no more
meaning in the words than in gibberish, so to speak, though many years
may have been spent in prayer. And thus I think it a very great
advantage to be in this state of prayer when I am writing this; for I
see clearly that it is not I who speak, nor is it I who with her
understanding has arranged it; and afterwards

I do not know how I came to speak so
accurately.[206] It has often happened to
me thus.

13. Let us now return to our orchard, or
flower-garden, and behold now how the trees begin to fill with sap for
the bringing forth of the blossoms, and then of the fruitâ€”the flowers
and the plants, also, their fragrance. This illustration pleases me;
for very often, when I was beginningâ€”and our Lord grant that I have
really begun to serve His Majestyâ€”I mean, begun in relation to what I
have to say of my life,â€”it was to me a great joy to consider my soul
as a garden, and our Lord as walking in it. I used to beseech Him to
increase the fragrance of the little flowers of virtuesâ€”which were
beginning, as it seemed to budâ€”and preserve them, that they might be
to His glory; for I desired nothing for myself. I prayed Him to cut
those He liked, because I already knew that they would grow
the better.

14. I say cut; for there are times in which
the soul has no recollection of this gardenâ€”everything seems parched,
and there is no water to be had for preserving itâ€”and in which it
seems as if the soul had never possessed any virtue at all. This is
the season of heavy trials; for our Lord will have the poor gardener
suppose all the trouble he took in maintaining and watering the garden
to have been taken to no purpose. Then is the time really for weeding
and rooting out every plant, however small it may be, that is
worthless, in the knowledge that no efforts of ours are sufficient, if
God withholds from us the waters of His grace; and in despising
ourselves as being nothing, and even less than nothing.

In this way we gain great humilityâ€”the flowers grow afresh.

15. O my Lord and my God! I cannot utter
these words without tears, and rejoicing in my soul; for Thou wilt be
thus with us, and art with us, in the Sacrament. We may believe so
most truly; for so it is, and the comparison I make is a great truth;
and, if our sins stand not in the way, we may rejoice in Thee, because
Thou rejoicest in us; for Thou hast told us that Thy delight is to be
with the children
of men.[207] O my Lord, what
does it mean? Whenever I hear these words, they always give me great
consolation, and did so even when I was most wicked.

16. Is it possible, Lord, that there can be
a soul which, after attaining to this state wherein Thou bestowest
upon it the like graces and consolations, and wherein it understands
that Thou delightest to be with it, can yet fall back and offend Thee
after so many favours, and such great demonstrations of the love Thou
bearest it, and of which there cannot be any doubt, because the effect
of it is so visible? Such a soul there certainly is; for I have done
so, not once, but often. May it please Thy goodness, O Lord, that I
may be alone in my ingratitudeâ€”the only one who has committed so
great an iniquity, and whose ingratitude has been so immeasurable!
But even out of my ingratitude Thine infinite goodness has brought
forth some good; and the greater my wickedness, the greater the
splendour of the great mercy of Thy compassions. Oh, what reasons
have I to magnify them for ever!

17. May it be so, I beseech Thee, O my God,
and may I sing of them for ever, now that Thou hast been pleased to
show mercies so great unto me that they who see them are astonished,
mercies which draw me out of myself continually, that I may praise
Thee more and more! for, remaining in myself, without Thee, I could
do nothing, O my Lord, but be as the withered flowers

of the garden; so that this miserable earth of mine becomes a heap
of refuse, as it was before. Let it not be so, O Lord!â€”let not a
soul which Thou hast purchased with so many labours be lost, one which
Thou hast so often ransomed anew, and delivered from between the teeth
of the hideous dragon!

18. You, my father, must forgive me for
wandering from the subject; and, as I am speaking to the purpose I
have in view, you must not be surprised. What I write is what my soul
has understood; and it is very often hard enough to abstain from the
praises of God when, in the course of writing, the great debt I owe
Him presents itself before me. Nor do I think that it can be
disagreeable to you; because both of us, I believe, may sing the same
song, though in a different way; for my debt is much the greater,
seeing that God has forgiven me more, as you, my father, know.

The Life

Chapter XV

Instructions for Those Who Have Attained to the Prayer of
Quiet. Many Advance So Far, But Few Go Farther.

Let us now go back to the subject. This
quiet and recollection of the soul makes itself in great measure felt
in the satisfaction and peace, attended with very great joy and repose
of the faculties, and most sweet delight, wherein the soul is
established.[208] It thinks, because it has not
gone beyond it, that there is nothing further to wish for, but that
its abode might be there, and it would willingly say so with St. Peter.[209] It dares
not move nor stir, because it thinks that this blessing it has
received must then escape out of its hands; now and then, it could
wish it did not
even breathe.[210] The

poor little soul is not aware that, as of itself it could do
nothing to draw down this blessing on itself, it is still less able to
retain it a moment longer than our Lord wills it should remain.

2. I have already said that, in the prior
recollection
and quiet,[211] there is no failure
of the powers of the soul; but the soul is so satisfied in God that,
although two of its powers be distracted, yet, while the recollection
lasts, as the will abides in union with God, so its peace and quiet
are not disturbed; on the contrary, the will by degrees brings the
understanding and the memory back again; for though the will is not
yet altogether absorbed, it continues still occupied without knowing
how, so that, notwithstanding all the efforts of the memory and the
understanding, they cannot rob it of its delight and
joy[212]â€”yea, rather, it helps without any
labour at all to keep this little spark of the love of God from
being quenched.

3. Oh, that His Majesty would be gracious unto
me, and enable me to give a clear account of the matter; for many are
the souls who attain to this state, and few are they who go farther:
and I know not who is in fault; most certainly it is not God; for when
His Majesty shows mercy unto a soul, so that it advances so far, I
believe that He will not fail to be more merciful still, if there be
no shortcomings on our part.

4. And it is of great importance for the soul
that has advanced so far as this to understand the great dignity of
its state, the great grace given it by our Lord, and how in all reason
it should not belong to earth; because He, of His goodness, seems to
make it here a denizen of heaven, unless it be itself in fault. And
miserable will that soul be if it turns back; it will go down, I think
so, even to the abyss, as I was going myself, if the mercy of our Lord
had not brought me back; because, for the most part, it must be the
effect of grave faultsâ€”that is my opinion: nor is it possible to

forsake so great a good otherwise than through the blindness
occasioned by much evil.

5. Therefore, for the love of our Lord, I
implore those souls to whom His Majesty has given so great a
graceâ€”the attainment of this stateâ€”to know and make much of
themselves, with a humble and holy presumption, in order that they may
never return to the flesh-pots of Egypt. And if through weakness and
wickedness, and a mean and wretched nature, they should fall, as I
did, let them always keep in mind the good they have lost; let them
suspect and fearâ€”they have reason to do soâ€”that, if they do not
resume their prayer, they may go on from bad to worse. I call that a
real fall which makes us hate the way by which so great a good was
obtained. I address myself to those souls; but I am not saying that
they will never offend God, nor fall into sin,â€”though there are good
reasons why those who have received these graces should keep
themselves carefully from sin; but we are miserable creatures. What I
earnestly advise is this: let there be no giving up of prayer; it is
by prayer they will understand what they are doing, and obtain from
our Lord the grace to repent, and strength to rise again; they must
believe and believe again that, if they cease from praying, they
runâ€”so I thinkâ€”into danger. I know not if I understand what I am
saying; for, as I said before, I measure others
by myself.[213]

6. The prayer of quiet, then, is a little spark
of the true love of Himself, which our Lord begins to enkindle in the
soul; and His will is, that the soul should understand what this love
is by the joy it brings. This quiet and recollection and little
spark, if it is the work of the Spirit of God, and not a sweetness
supplied by Satan, or brought about by ourselves, produces great
results. A person of experience, however, cannot possibly fail to
understand at once that it is not a thing that can be acquired, were
it not that our nature is so greedy of

sweetness, that it seeks for it in every way. But it becomes cold
very soon; for, however much we try to make the fire burn, in order to
obtain this sweetness, it does not appear that we do anything else but
throw water on it, to put it out. This spark, then, given of God,
however slight it may be, causes a great crackling; and if men do not
quench it by their faults, it is the beginning of the great fire,
which sends forthâ€”I shall speak of it in the proper
place[214]â€”the flames of that most vehement
love of God which His Majesty will have perfect souls to possess.

7. This little spark is a sign or pledge which
God gives to a soul, in token of His having chosen it for great
things, if it will prepare to receive them. It is a great gift, much
too great for me to be able to speak of it. It is a great sorrow to
me; because, as I
said before,[215] I know that
many souls come thus far, and that those who go farther, as they ought
to go, are so few, that I am ashamed to say it. I do not mean that
they are absolutely few: there must be many, because God is patient
with us, for some reasons; I speak of what I have seen.

8. I should like much to recommend these souls
to take care that they do not hide their talent; for it may be that
God has chosen them to be the edification of many others, especially
in these days, when the friends of God should be strong, in order that
they may support the weak. Those who discern in themselves this
grace, must look upon themselves as such friends, if they would fulfil
the law which even the honourable friendship of the world respects; if
not, as I said
just now,[216] let them fear and
tremble, lest they should be doing mischief to themselvesâ€”and
God grant it be to themselves only!

9. What the soul has to do at those seasons
wherein it is raised to the prayer of quiet is nothing more than to be
gentle and without noise. By noise, I mean going

about with the understanding in search of words and reflections
whereby to give God thanks for this grace, and heaping up its sins and
imperfections together to show that it does not deserve it. All this
commotion takes place now, and the understanding comes forward, and
the memory is restless, and certainly to me these powers bring much
weariness at times; for, though my memory is not strong, I cannot
control it. Let the will quietly and wisely understand that it is not
by dint of labour on our part that we can converse to any good purpose
with God, and that our own efforts are only great logs of wood, laid
on without discretion to quench this little spark; and let it confess
this, and in humility say, O Lord, what can I do here? what has the
servant to do with her Lord, and earth with heaven? or words of love
that suggest themselves now, firmly grounded in the conviction that
what it says is truth; and let it make no account of the
understanding, which is simply tiresome.

10. And if the will wishes to communicate to
the understanding any portion of that the fruition of which itself has
entered on, or if it labours to make the understanding recollected, it
shall not succeed; for it will often happen that the will is in union
and at rest, while the understanding is in extreme disorder. It is
better for it to leave it alone, and not to run after itâ€”I am
speaking of the will; for the will should abide in the fruition of
that grace, recollected itself, like the prudent bee; for if no bees
entered the hive, and each of them wandered abroad in search of the
rest, the honey would hardly be made. In the same way, the soul will
lose much if it be not careful now, especially if the understanding be
acute; for when it begins to make reflections and search for reasons,
it will think at once that it is doing something if its reasons and
reflections are good.

11. The only reason that ought to be admitted
now is to understand clearly that there is no reason whatever,

except His mere goodness, why God should grant us so great a grace,
and to be aware that we are so near Him, and to pray to His Majesty
for mercies, to make intercession for the Church, for those who had
been recommended to us, and for the souls in purgatory,â€”not, however,
with noise of words, but with a heartfelt desire to be heard. This is
a prayer that contains much, and by it more is obtained than by many
reflections of the understanding. Let the will stir up some of those
reasons, which proceed from reason itself, to quicken its love, such
as the fact of its being in a better state, and let it make certain
acts of love, as what it will do for Him to whom it owes so much,â€”and
that, as I said just now, without any noise of the understanding, in
the search after profound reflections. A little straw,â€”and it will
be less than straw, if we bring it ourselves,â€”laid on with humility,
will be more effectual here, and will help to kindle a fire more than
many fagots of most learned reasons, which, in my opinion, will put it
out in a moment.

12. This is good for those learned men who
have commanded me
to write,[217] and who all,
by the goodness of God, have come to this state; for it may be that
they spend the time in making applications of passages of the
Scriptures. And though learning could not fail to be of great use to
them, both before and after prayer, still, in the very time of prayer
itself, there is little necessity for it, in my opinion, unless it be
for the purpose of making the will tepid; for the understanding then,
because of its nearness to the light, is itself illuminated; so that
even I, who am what I am, seem to be a different person. And so it
is; for it has happened to me, who scarcely understand a word of what
I read in Latin, and specially in the Psalms, when in the prayer of
quiet, not only to understand the Latin as if it were Spanish, but,
still more, to take a delight in dwelling on the meaning of that I
knew through the

Spanish. We must make an exception: if these learned men have to
preach or to teach, they will do well to take advantage of their
learning, that they may help poor people of little learning, of whom I
am one. Charity is a great thing; and so always is ministering unto
souls, when done simply for God.

13. So, then, when the soul is in the prayer
of quiet, let it repose in its restâ€”let learning be put on one side.
The time will come when they may make use of it in the service of our
Lordâ€”when they that possess it will appreciate it so highly as to be
glad that they had not neglected it even for all the treasures of the
world, simply because it enables them to serve His Majesty; for it is
a great help. But in the eyes of Infinite Wisdom, believe me, a
little striving after humility, and a single act thereof, are worth
more than all the science in the world. This is not the time for
discussing, but for understanding plainly what we are, and presenting
ourselves in simplicity before God, who will have the soul make itself
as a foolâ€”as, indeed, it isâ€”in His presence, seeing that His Majesty
so humbles Himself as to suffer it to be near Him, we being what
we are.

14. Moreover, the understanding bestirs itself
to make its thanksgiving in phrases well arranged; but the will, in
peace, not daring to lift up its eyes with the
publican,[218] makes perhaps a better act of
thanksgiving than the understanding, with all the tropes of its
rhetoric. In a word, mental prayer is not to be abandoned altogether
now, nor even vocal prayer, if at any time we wish, or can, to make
use of either of them; for if the state of quiet be profound, it
becomes difficult to speak, and it can be done only with
great pain.

15. I believe myself that we know whether this
proceeds from the Spirit of God, or is brought about by endeavours of
our own, in the commencement of devotion which God gives; and we seek
of ourselves,

as I
said before,[219] to pass onwards to
this quiet of the will. Then, no effect whatever is produced; it is
quickly over, and aridity is the result. If it comes from Satan, the
practised soul, in my opinion, will detect it, because it leaves
trouble behind, and scant humility and poor dispositions for those
effects which are wrought if it comes from God; it leaves neither
light in the understanding nor steadiness in
the truth.[220]

16. Here Satan can do little or no harm, if
the soul directs unto God the joy and sweetness it then feels; and if
it fixes the thoughts and desires on Him, according to the advice
already given, the devil can gain nothing whateverâ€”on the contrary,
by the permission of God, he will lose much by that very joy which he
causes in the soul, because that joy will help the soul, inasmuch as
it thinks the joy comes from God, to betake itself often to prayer in
its desire for it. And if the soul is humble, indifferent to, and
detached from, all joy, however spiritual, and if it loves the cross,
it will make no account of the sweetness which Satan sends. But it
cannot so deal with that which comes from the Spirit of God; of that
it will make much. Now, when Satan sends it, as he is nothing but a
lie, and when he sees that the soul humbles itself through that joy
and sweetnessâ€”and here, in all things relating to prayer and
sweetness, we must be very careful to endeavour to make ourselves
humble,â€”Satan will not often repeat his work, when he sees that he
loses by it.

17. For this and for many other reasons, when
I was speaking of the first degree of prayer, and of the first method
of drawing the water,[221] I insisted upon
it that

the great affair of souls is, when they begin to pray, to begin
also to detach themselves from every kind of joy, and to enter on it
resolved only on helping to carry the cross of Christ like good
soldiers, willing to serve their King without present pay, because
they are sure of it at last, having their eyes directed to the true
and everlasting kingdom at the conquest of which we are aiming.

18. It is a very great matter to have this
always before our eyes, especially in the beginning; afterwards, it
becomes so clear, that it is rather a matter of necessity to forget
it, in order to live on. Now, labouring to keep in mind that all
things here below are of short duration, that they are all nothing,
that the rest we have here is to be accounted as none,â€”all this, I
say, seems to be exceedingly low; and so, indeed, it is,â€”because
those who have gone on to greater perfection would look upon it as a
reproach, and be ashamed of themselves, if they thought that they were
giving up the goods of this world because they are perishable, or that
they would not be glad to give them up for Godâ€”even if they were to
last for ever. The greater the perfection of these persons, the
greater their joy, and the greater also would that joy be if the
duration of these worldly goods were greater.

19. In these persons, thus far advanced, love
is already grown, and love is that which does this work. But as to
beginners, to them it is of the utmost importance, and they must not
regard this consideration as unbecoming, for the blessings to be
gained are great,â€”and that is why I recommend it so much to them; for
they will have need of itâ€”even those who have attained to great
heights of prayerâ€”at certain times, when God will try them, and when
His Majesty seems to have forsaken them.

20. I have said as much already, and I would
not have it forgotten,[222] in this our life
on earth, the growth of the soul is not like that of the body.
We, however,

so speak of itâ€”and, in truth, it does grow. A youth that is grown
up, whose body is formed, and who is become a man, does not ungrow,
nor does his body lessen in size; but as to the soul, it so is by our
Lord's will, so far as I have seen it in my own experience,â€”but I
know nothing of it in any other way. It must be in order to humble us
for our greater good, and to keep us from being careless during our
exile; seeing that he who has ascended the higher has the more reason
to be afraid, and to be less confident in himself. A time may come
when they whose will is so wrapt up in the will of Godâ€”and who,
rather than fall into a single imperfection, would undergo torture and
suffer a thousand deathsâ€”will find it necessary, if they would be
delivered from offending God, and from the commission of sin, to make
use of the first armour of prayer, to call to mind how everything is
coming to an end, that there is a heaven and a hell, and to make use
of other reflections of that nature, when they find themselves
assailed by temptations and persecutions.

21. Let us go back to what I was saying. The
great source of our deliverance from the cunning devices and the
sweetness which Satan sends is to begin with a resolution to walk in
the way of the Cross from the very first, and not to desire any
sweetness at all, seeing that our Lord Himself has pointed out to us
the way of perfection, saying, "Take up thy cross and follow
Me."[223] He is our example; and
whosoever follows His counsels only to please Him has nothing to fear.
In the improvement which they detect in themselves, they who do so
will see that this is no work of Satan and if they fall, they have a
sign of the presence of our Lord in their rising again at once. They
have other signs, also, of which I am going to speak.

22. When it is the work of the Spirit of God,
there is no necessity for going about searching for reasons, on the
strength of which we may elicit acts of humility

and of shame, because our Lord Himself supplies them in a way very
different from that by which we could acquire them by our own poor
reflections, which are as nothing in comparison with that real
humility arising out of the light which our Lord here gives us, and
which begets a confusion of face that undoes us. The knowledge with
which God supplies us, in order that we may know that of ourselves we
have no good in us, is perfectly apprehendedâ€”and the more perfectly,
the greater the graces. It fills us with a great desire of advancing
in prayer, and of never giving it up, whatever troubles may arise.
The soul offers to suffer everything. A certain security, joined with
humility and fear concerning our salvation, casts out servile fear at
once from the soul, and in its place plants a loyal
fear[224] of more perfect
growth.[225] There is a visible beginning of
a love of God, utterly divested of all self-interest, together with a
longing after seasons of solitude, in order to obtain a greater
fruition of this good.

23. In short, not to weary myself, it is the
beginning of all good; the flowers have so thriven, that they are on
the point of budding. And this the soul sees most clearly, and it is
impossible to persuade it now that God was not with it, till it turns
back upon itself, and beholds its own failings and imperfections.
Then it fears for everything; and it is well it should do soâ€”though
there are souls whom the certain conviction that God is with them
benefits more than all the fear they may ever have. If a soul love
greatly, and is thankful naturally, the remembrance of the mercies of
God makes it turn to Him more effectually than all the chastisements
of hell it can ever picture to itselfâ€”at least, it was so with me,
though I am so wicked.

24. As I shall speak at greater length of the
signs of a good spirit[226]â€”it has cost me
much labour to be clear about themâ€”I do not treat of them here.
I believe,

too, that, with the help of God, I shall be able to speak somewhat
to the point, becauseâ€”setting aside the experience I have had, and by
which I learned muchâ€”I have had the help of some most learned men and
persons of great holiness, whom we may reasonably believe in the
matter. Souls, therefore, are not to weary themselves so much as I
did, when, by the goodness of our Lord, they may have come to
this state.

The Life

Chapter XVI

The Third State of Prayer. Deep Matters. What the Soul Can
Do That Has Reached It. Effects of the Great Graces of
Our Lord.

Let us now speak of the third water
wherewith this garden is watered,â€”water running from a river or from
a brook,â€”whereby the garden is watered with very much less trouble,
although there is some in directing the
water.[227] In this state our Lord will help
the gardener, and in such a way as to be, as it were, the Gardener
Himself, doing all the work. It is a sleep of the powers of the soul,
which are not wholly lost, nor yet understanding how they are at work.
The pleasure, sweetness, and delight are incomparably greater than in
the former state of prayer; and the reason is, that the waters of
grace have risen up to the neck of the soul, so that it can neither
advance nor retreatâ€”nor does it know how to do so; it seeks only the
fruition of exceeding bliss. It is like a dying man with the candle
in his hand, on the point of dying the death desired. It is rejoicing
in this agony with unutterable joy; to me it seems to be nothing else
but a death, as it were,

to all the things of this world, and a fruition of God. I know of
no other words whereby to describe it or to explain it; neither does
the soul then know what to do,â€”for it knows not whether to speak or
be silent, whether it should laugh or weep. It is a glorious folly, a
heavenly madness, wherein true wisdom is acquired; and to the soul a
kind of fruition most full
of delight.[228]

2. It is now some five or six years, I believe,
since our Lord raised me to this state of prayer, in its fulness, and
that more than once,â€”and I never understood it, and never could
explain it; and so I was resolved, when I should come thus far in my
story, to say very little or nothing at all. I knew well enough that
it was not altogether the union of all the faculties, and yet most
certainly it was higher than the previous state of prayer; but I
confess that I could not determine and understand the difference.

3. The humility of your reverence, willing to
be helped by a simplicity so great as mine, has been the cause, I
believe, why our Lord, to-day, after Communion, admitted me to this
state of prayer, without the power of going further, and suggested to
me these comparisons, and taught me how to speak of it, and of what
the soul must do therein. Certainly, I was amazed, and in a moment
understood it all. I have often been thus, as it were, beside myself,
drunk with love, and yet never could understand how it was. I knew
well that it was the work of God, but I never was able to understand
the manner of His working here; for, in fact, the faculties are almost
all completely in union, yet not so absorbed that they do not act. I
have been singularly delighted in that I have been able to comprehend
the matter at last. Blessed be our Lord, who has thus
consoled me!

4. The faculties of the soul now retain only
the power of occupying themselves wholly with God; not

one of them ventures to stir, neither can we move one of them
without making great efforts to distract ourselvesâ€”and, indeed, I do
not think we can do it at all at this time. Many words are then
uttered in praise of Godâ€”but disorderly, unless it be that our Lord
orders them himself. At least, the understanding is utterly powerless
here; the soul longs to send forth words of praise, but it has no
control over itself,â€”it is in a state of sweet restlessness. The
flowers are already opening; they are beginning to send forth
their fragrance.

5. The soul in this state would have all men
behold and know of its bliss, to the praise of God, and help it to
praise Him. It would have them to be partakers of its joy; for its
joy is greater than it can bear. It seems to me that it is like the
woman in the Gospel, who would, or used to, call in her
neighbours.[229] The admirable spirit of David,
the royal prophet, must have felt in the same way, so it seems to me,
when he played on the harp, singing the praises of God. I have a very
great devotion to this
glorious king;[230] and I
wish all had it, particularly those who are sinners like myself.

6. O my God, what must that soul be when it is
in this state? It wishes it were all tongue, in order that it may
praise our Lord. It utters a thousand holy follies, striving
continually to please Him by whom it is thus possessed. I know
one[231] who, though she was no poet, yet
composed, without any preparation, certain stanzas, full of feeling,
most expressive of her pain: they were not the work of her own
understanding; but, in order to have a greater fruition of that bliss
which so sweet a pain occasioned her, she complained of it in that way
to God. She was willing to be cut in pieces, soul and body, to show
the delight she felt in that pain. To what torments could she be then
exposed, that would not be delicious to endure for her Lord? She

sees clearly that the martyrs did little or nothing, so far as they
were concerned, when they endured their tortures, because the soul is
well aware that its strength is derived from another source.

7. But what will be its sufferings when it
returns to the use of the senses, to live in the world, and go back to
the anxieties and the fashions thereof? I do not think that I have
exaggerated in any way, but rather have fallen short, in speaking of
that joy, which our Lord, of His good pleasure, gives to the soul in
this its exile. Blessed for ever be Thou, O Lord! and may all created
things praise Thee for ever!

8. O my King, seeing that I am now, while
writing this, still under the power of this heavenly madness, an
effect of Thy mercy and goodness,â€”and it is a mercy I never
deserved,â€”grant, I beseech Thee, that all those with whom I may have
to converse may become mad through Thy love, or let me converse with
none, or so order it that I may have nothing to do in the world, or
take me away from it. This Thy servant, O my God, is no longer able
to endure sufferings so great as those are which she must bear when
she sees herself without Thee if she must live, she seeks no repose in
this life,â€”and do Thou give her none. This my soul longs to be
freeâ€”eating is killing it, and sleep is wearisome; it sees itself
wasting the time of this life in comforts, and that there is no
comfort for it now but in Thee; it seems to be living contrary to
natureâ€”for now, it desires to live not in itself, but in Thee.

9. O my true Lord and my happiness! what a
cross hast Thou prepared for those who attain to this state!â€”light
and most heavy at the same time: light, because sweet; heavy, because
now and then there is no patience left to endure itâ€”and yet the soul
never wishes to be delivered from it, unless it be that it may come to
Thee. When the soul remembers that it has never served Thee at all,
and that by living on it may do Thee some service, it longs for a
still heavier cross, and never

to die before the end of the world. Its own repose it counts as
nothing in comparison with doing a slight service to Thee. It knows
not what to desire; but it clearly understands that it desires nothing
else but Thee.

10. O
my son,[232] so
humble is he to whom this writing is directed, and who has commanded
me to write, that he suffers himself to be thus addressed,â€”you, my
father, only must see these things, in which I seem to have
transgressed all bounds; for no reason can keep me reasonable when our
Lord draws me out of myself. Since my communion this
morning,[233] I do not believe that I am the
person who is speaking; I seem to be dreaming the things I see, and I
wish I might never see any but people ill, as I am now. I beseech
you, my father, let us all be mad, for the love of Him who for our
sakes suffered men to say of Him that He
was mad.[234]

11. You, my father, say that you wish me well.
I wish you would prove it by disposing yourself so that God may bestow
this grace upon you; for I see very few people who have not too much
sense for everything they have to do: and it may be that I have more
than anybody else. Your reverence must not allow it; you are my
father, for you are my confessor, and the person to whom I have
trusted my soul; disperse my delusions by telling the truth; for
truths of this sort are very rarely told.

12. I wish we five, who now love one another
in our Lord, had made some such arrangement as this: as others in
these times have met together
in secret[235] to
plot wickedness and heresies against His Majesty, so we might contrive
to meet together now and then, in order to undeceive one another, to
tell each other

wherein we might improve ourselves, and be more pleasing unto God;
for there is no one that knows himself as well as he is known of
others who see him, if it be with eyes of love and the wish to do him
good. I say; in secret; for language of this kind is no longer in
use; even preachers go about arranging their sermons so as to
displease no one.[236] They have a good
intention, and their work is good; yet still few amend their lives.
But how is it that they are not many who, in consequence of these
sermons, abstain from public sins? Well, I think it is because the
preachers are highly sensible men. They are not burning with the
great fire of the love of God, as the Apostles were, casting worldly
prudence aside; and so their fire throws out but little heat. I do
not say that their fire ought to burn like that of the Apostles, but I
do wish it were a stronger fire than I see it is. Do you, my father,
know wherein much of this fire consists? In the hatred of this life,
in the desertion of its honours, in being utterly indifferent whether
we lose or gain anything or everything, provided the truth be told and
maintained for the glory of God; for he who is courageously in earnest
for God, looks upon loss or gain indifferently. I do not say that I
am a person of this kind, but I wish I was.

13. Oh, grand freedom, to regard it as a
captivity to be obliged to live and converse with men according to the
laws of the world! It is the gift of our Lord; there is not a slave
who would not imperil everything that he might escape and return to
his country; and as this is the true road, there is no reason why we
should linger; for we shall never effectually gain a treasure so
great, so long as this life is not ended. May our Lord give us His
grace for that end! You, my father, if it shall seem good to you,
will tear up what I have written, and consider it as a letter for
yourself alone, and forgive me that I have been very bold.

The Life

Chapter XVII

The Third State of Prayer. The Effects Thereof. The
Hindrance Caused by the Imagination and the Memory.

Enough has been said of this manner of
prayer, and of what the soul has to do, or rather, to speak more
correctly, of what God is doing within it; for it is He who now takes
upon Himself the gardener's work, and who will have the soul take its
ease; except that the will is consenting to the graces, the fruition
of which it has, and that it must resign itself to all that the True
Wisdom would accomplish in itâ€”for which it is certain it has need of
courage; because the joy is so great, that the soul seems now and then
to be on the very point of going forth out of the body: and what a
blessed death that would be! Now, I think it is for the soul's
goodâ€”as you, my father, have been toldâ€”to abandon itself into the
arms of God altogether; if He will take it to heaven, let it go; if to
hell, no matter, as it is going thither with its sovereign Good. If
life is to come to an end for ever, so it wills; if it is to last a
thousand years, it wills that also: His Majesty may do with it as with
His own property,â€”the soul no longer belongs to itself, it has been
given wholly to our Lord; let it cast all care utterly away.

2. My meaning is that, in a state of prayer, so
high as this, the soul understands that God is doing His work without
any fatiguing of the understanding, except that, as it seems to me, it
is as if amazed in beholding our Lord taking upon Himself the work of
the good gardener, refusing to let the soul undergo any labour
whatever, but that of taking its pleasure in the flowers beginning to
send forth their fragrance; for when God raises a soul up to this
state, it can do all this, and much more,â€”for these are the effects
of it.

3. In one of these visits, how brief soever it
may be, the Gardener, being who He is,â€”in a word, the Creator of the
water,â€”pours the water without stint; and what the poor soul, with
the labour, perhaps, of twenty years in fatiguing the understanding,
could not bring about, that the heavenly Gardener accomplishes in an
instant, causing the fruit both to grow and ripen; so that the soul,
such being the will of our Lord, may derive its sustenance from its
garden. But He allows it not to divide the fruit with others, until
by eating thereof, it is strong enough not to waste it in the mere
tasting of it,â€”giving to Him none of the produce, nor making any
compensation for it to Him who supplies it,â€”lest it should be
maintaining others, feeding them at its own cost, and itself perhaps
dying of hunger.[237] The meaning of this is
perfectly clear for those who have understanding enough to apply
itâ€”much more clear than I can make it; and I am tired.

4. Finally, the virtues are now stronger than
they were during the preceding prayer of quiet; for the soul sees
itself to be other than it was, and it knows not how it is beginning
to do great things in the odour which the flowers send forth; it being
our Lord's will that the flowers should open, in order that the soul
may believe itself to be in possession of virtue; though it sees most
clearly that it cannot, and never could, acquire them in many years,
and that the heavenly Gardener has given them to it in that instant.
Now, too, the humility of the soul is much greater and deeper than it
was before; because it sees more clearly that it did neither much nor
little, beyond giving its consent that our Lord might work those
graces in it, and then accepting them willingly.

5. This state of prayer seems to me to be a
most distinct union of the whole soul with God, but for this, that His
Majesty appears to give the faculties leave to be intent upon, and
have the fruition of, the great work

He is doing then. It happens at times, and indeed very often,
that, the will being in union, the soul should be aware of it, and see
that the will is a captive and in joy, that the will alone is abiding
in great peace,â€”while, on the other hand, the understanding and the
memory are so free, that they can be employed in affairs and be
occupied in works of charity. I say this, that you, my father, may
see it is so, and understand the matter when it shall happen to
yourself; at least, it carried me out of myself, and that is the
reason why I speak of it here.

6. It differs from the prayer of quiet, of
which I have spoken,[238] though it does seem as
if it were all one with it. In that prayer, the soul, which would
willingly neither stir nor move, is delighting in the holy repose of
Mary; but in this prayer it can be like Martha
also.[239] Accordingly, the soul is, as it
were, living the active and contemplative life at once, and is able to
apply itself to works of charity and the affairs of its state, and to
spiritual reading. Still, those who arrive at this state, are not
wholly masters of themselves, and are well aware that the better part
of the soul is elsewhere. It is as if we were speaking to one person,
and another speaking to us at the same time, while we ourselves are
not perfectly attentive either to the one or the other. It is a state
that is most easily ascertained, and one, when attained to, that
ministers great joy and contentment, and that prepares the soul in the
highest degree, by observing times of solitude, or of freedom from
business, for the attainment of the most tranquil quietude. It is
like the life of a man who is full, requiring no food, with his
appetite satisfied, so that he will not eat of everything set before
him, yet not so full either as to refuse to eat if he saw any
desirable food. So the soul has no satisfaction in the world,
and seeks

no pleasure in it then; because it has in itself that which gives
it a greater satisfaction, greater joys in God, longings for the
satisfaction of its longing to have a deeper joy in being with
Himâ€”this is what the soul seeks.

7. There is another kind of union, which,
though not a perfect union, is yet more so than the one of which I
have just spoken; but not so much so as this spoken of as the third
water. You, my father, will be delighted greatly if our Lord should
bestow them all upon you, if you have them not already, to find an
account of the matter in writing, and to understand it; for it is one
grace that our Lord gives grace; and it is another grace to understand
what grace and what gift it is; and it is another and further grace to
have the power to describe and explain it to others. Though it does
not seem that more than the first of theseâ€”the giving of the
graceâ€”is necessary to enable the soul to advance without confusion
and fear, and to walk with the greater courage in the way of our Lord,
trampling under foot all the things of this world, it is a great
advantage and a great grace to understand it; for every one who has it
has great reason to praise our Lord; and so, also, has he who has it
not: because His Majesty has bestowed it upon some person living who
is to make us profit by it.

8. This union, of which I would now speak,
frequently occurs, particularly to myself. God has very often
bestowed such a grace upon me, whereby He constrains the will, and
even the understanding, as it seems to me, seeing that it makes no
reflections, but is occupied in the fruition of God: like a person who
looks on, and sees so many things, that he knows not where to
lookâ€”one object puts another out of sight, and none of them leaves
any impression behind.

9. The memory remains free, and it must be so,
together with the imagination; and so, when it finds itself alone, it
is marvellous to behold what war it

makes on the soul, and how it labours to throw everything into
disorder. As for me, I am wearied by it, and I hate it; and very
often do I implore our Lord to deprive me of it on these occasions, if
I am to be so much troubled by it. Now and then, I say to Him: O my
God, when shall my soul praise Thee without distraction, not
dissipated in this way, unable to control itself! I understand now
the mischief that sin has done, in that it has rendered us unable to
do what we desireâ€”to be always occupied
in God.[240]

10. I say that it happens to me from time to
time,â€”it has done so this very day, and so I remember it well,â€”to
see my soul tear itself, in order to find itself there where the
greater part of it is, and to see, at the same time, that it is
impossible: because the memory and the imagination assail it with such
force, that it cannot prevail against them; yet, as the other
faculties give them no assistance, they are not able to do it any
harmâ€”none whatever; they do enough when they trouble its rest. When
I say they do no harm, my meaning is, that they cannot really hurt it,
because they have not strength enough, and because they are too
discursive. As the understanding gives no help, neither much nor
little, in the matters put before the soul, they never rest anywhere,
but hurry to and fro, like nothing else but gnats at night,
troublesome and unquiet: and so they go about from one subject
to another.

11. This comparison seems to me to be
singularly to the purpose; for the memory and the imagination, though
they have no power to do any harm, are very troublesome. I know of no
remedy for it; and, hitherto, God has told me of none. If He had,
most gladly would I make use of it; for I am, as I say, tormented very
often. This shows our wretchedness and brings out most distinctly the
great power of God, seeing that the faculty which is free hurts
and wearies

us so much; while the others, occupied with His Majesty, give
us rest.

12. The only remedy I have found, after many
years of weariness, is that I spoke of when I was describing the
prayer of quiet:[241] to make no more account of
it than of a madman, but let it go with its subject; for God alone can
take it from it,â€”in short, it is a slave here. We must bear
patiently with it, as Jacob bore with Lia; for our Lord showeth us
mercy enough when we are allowed to have Rachel with us.

13. I say that it remains a slave; for, after
all, let it do what it will, it cannot drag the other faculties in its
train; on the contrary, they, without taking any trouble, compel it to
follow after them. Sometimes God is pleased to take pity on it, when
He sees it so lost and so unquiet, through the longing it has to be
united with the other faculties, and His Majesty consents to its
burning itself in the flame of that divine candle by which the others
are already reduced to ashes, and their nature lost, being, as it
were, supernaturally in the fruition of blessings so great.

14. In all these states of prayer of which I
have spoken, while explaining this last method of drawing the water
out of the well, so great is the bliss and repose of the soul, that
even the body most distinctly shares in its joy and delight,â€”and this
is most plain; and the virtues continue to grow, as I said
before.[242] It seems to have been the good
pleasure of our Lord to explain these states of prayer, wherein the
soul finds itself, with the utmost clearness possible, I think, here
on earth.

15. Do you, my father, discuss it with any
spiritual person who has arrived at this state, and is learned. If he
says of it, it is well, you may believe that God has spoken it, and
you will give thanks to His Majesty; for, as I said just
now,[243] in the course of time you will

rejoice greatly in that you have understood it. Meanwhile, if He
does not allow you to understand what it is, though He does give you
the possession of it, yet, with your intellect and learning, seeing
that His Majesty has given you the first, you will know what it is, by
the help of what I have written here. Unto Him be praise for ever and
ever! Amen.

The Life

Chapter XVIII

The Fourth State of Prayer. The Great Dignity of the Soul
Raised to It by Our Lord. Attainable on Earth, Not by Our Merit, But
by the Goodness of Our Lord.

May our Lord teach me words whereby I may in
some measure describe the
fourth water.[244] I
have great need of His helpâ€”even more than I had while speaking of
the last; for in that the soul still feels that it is not dead
altogether. We may thus speak, seeing that to the world it is really
dead. But, as I
have said,[245] it retains the
sense to see that it is in the world, and to feel its own loneliness;
and it makes use of that which is outward for the purpose of
manifesting its feelings, at least by signs. In the whole of the
prayer already spoken of, and in all the states of it, the gardener
undergoes some labour: though in the later states the labour is
attended with so much bliss and comfort of the soul, that the soul
would never willingly pass out of it,â€”and thus the labour is not felt
as labour, but as bliss.

2. In this the fourth state there is no sense
of anything, only fruition, without understanding what that is the
fruition of which is granted. It is understood that the fruition is
of a certain good containing in itself all good together at once; but
this good is not

comprehended. The senses are all occupied in this fruition in such
a way that not one of them is at liberty, so as to be able to attend
to anything else, whether outward or inward.

3. The senses were permitted before, as I have
said,[246] to give some signs of the great joy
they feel; but now, in this state, the joy of the soul is incomparably
greater, and the power of showing it is still less; for there is no
power in the body, and the soul has none, whereby this fruition can be
made known. Everything of that kind would be a great hindrance, a
torment, and a disturbance of its rest. And I say, if it really be a
union of all the faculties, that the soul, even if it wished,â€”I mean,
when it is in union,â€”cannot make it known; and if it can, then it is
not union at all.

4. How this, which we call union, is effected,
and what it is, I cannot tell. Mystical theology explains it, and I
do not know the terms of that science; nor can I understand what the
mind is, nor how it differs from the soul or the spirit either: all
three seem to me but one; though I do know that the soul sometimes
leaps forth out of itself, like a fire that is burning and is become a
flame; and occasionally this fire increases violentlyâ€”the flame
ascends high above the fire; but it is not therefore a different
thing: it is still the same flame of the same fire. Your learning, my
fathers, will enable you to understand the matter; I can go
no further.

5. What I undertake to explain is that which
the soul feels when it is in the divine union. It is plain enough
what union isâ€”two distinct things becoming one. O my Lord, how good
Thou art! Blessed be Thou for ever, O my God! Let all creatures
praise Thee, Who hast so loved us that we can truly speak of this
communication which Thou hast with souls in this our exile! Yea, even
if they be good souls, it is on Thy part great munificence and
magnanimity,â€”in a

word, it is Thy munificence, O my Lord, seeing that Thou givest
like Thyself. O infinite Munificence!â€”how magnificent are Thy works!
Even he whose understanding is not occupied with the things of earth
is amazed that he is unable to understand these truths. Why, then,
give graces so high to souls who have been such great sinners? Truly,
this passeth my understanding; and when I come to think of it, I can
get no further. Is there any way at all for me to go on which is not
a going back? For, as to giving Thee thanks for mercies so great, I
know not how to do it. Sometimes I relieve myself by giving utterance
to follies. It often happens to me, either when I receive these
graces, or when God is about to bestow them,â€”for, in the midst of
them, I have
already said,[247] I was able to do
nothing,â€”that I would break out into words like these.

6. O Lord, consider what Thou art doing; forget
not so soon the great evils that I have done. To forgive me, Thou
must already have forgotten them; yet, in order that there may be some
limit to Thy graces, I beseech Thee remember them. O my Creator, pour
not a liquor so precious into a vessel so broken; for Thou hast
already seen how on other occasions I allowed it to run waste. Lay
not up treasure like this, where the longing after the consolations of
this life is not so mortified as it ought to be; for it will be
utterly lost. How canst Thou commit the defence of the city, and the
keys of its fortress to a commander so cowardly, who at the first
assault will let the enemy enter within? Oh, let not Thy love be so
great, O King Eternal, as to imperil jewels so precious! O my Lord,
to me it seems that it becomes a ground for undervaluing them, when
Thou puttest them in the power of one so wretched, so vile, so frail,
so miserable, and so worthless as I am, who, though she may labour not
to lose them, by the help of Thy grace,â€”and I have need of no little
grace for that end, being what I am,â€”is not

able to win over any one to Thee,â€”in short, I am a woman, not
good, but wicked. It seems to me that the talents are not only
hidden, but buried, when they are committed to earth so vile. It is
not Thy wont, O Lord, to bestow graces and mercies like these upon a
soul, unless it be that it may edify many.

7. Thou, O my God, knowest already that I beg
this of Thee with my whole will, from the bottom of my heart, and that
I have done so more than once, and I account it a blessing to lose the
greatest blessings which may be had on earth, if Thou wouldst but
bestow these graces upon him who will make a better use of them to the
increase of Thy glory. These, and expressions like these, it has
happened to me often to utter. I saw afterwards my own foolishness
and want of humility; for our Lord knoweth well what is expedient, and
that there is no strength in my soul to be saved, if His Majesty did
not give it with graces so great.

8. I purpose also to speak of the graces and
effects which abide in the soul, and of that which the soul itself can
do, or rather, if it can do anything of itself towards attaining to a
state so high. The elevation of the spirit, or union, comes together
with heavenly love but, as I understand it, union is a different thing
from elevation in union itself. To him who may not have had any
experience of the latter, it must seem that it is not; and, according
to my view of it, even if they are both one, the operations of our
Lord therein are different: there is a growth of the soul's detachment
from creatures more abundantly still in the flight of the
spirit.[248] I have clearly seen that this is a
particular grace, though, as I say, it may be the same, or seem to be
so, with the other; but a little fire, also, is as much fire as a
great fireâ€”and yet there is a visible difference between them.
Before a small piece of iron is made red-hot in a little fire, some
time must pass; but

if the fire be great, the iron very quickly, though bulky, loses
its nature altogether in appearance.

9. So, it seems to me, is it with these two
kinds of graces which our Lord bestows. He who has had raptures will,
I am sure, understand it well; to him who has not had that experience,
it must appear folly. And, indeed, it may well be so; for if a person
like myself should speak of a matter of this kind, and give any
explanation at all of that for the description of which no words ever
can possibly be found, it is not to be wondered at that I may be
speaking foolishly.

10. But I have this confidence in our Lord,
that He will help me here; for His Majesty knoweth that my object in
writingâ€”the first is to obeyâ€”is to inspire souls with a longing
after so high a good. I will speak of nothing that I do not know by
great experience: and so, when I began to describe the last kind of
water, I thought it more impossible for me to speak of it at all than
to speak Greek. It is a very difficult matter; so I left it, and went
to Communion. Blessed be our Lord, who is merciful to the ignorant!
Oh, virtue of obedience! it can do everything! God enlightened my
understandingâ€”at one time suggesting the words, at another showing me
how to use them; for, as in the preceding state of prayer, so also
now, His Majesty seems to utter what I can neither speak
nor understand.[249]

11. What I am saying is the simple truth; and
therefore whatever is good herein is His teaching; what is erroneous,
clearly comes out of that sea of evilâ€”myself. If there be anyâ€”and
there must be manyâ€”who, having attained to these states of prayer
whereunto our Lord in His mercy has brought meâ€”wretch that I am!â€”and
who, thinking they have missed their way, desire to treat of these
matters with me, I am sure that our Lord will help His servant to
declare the truth more plainly.

12. I am now speaking of the water which
cometh down from heaven to fill and saturate in its abundance the
whole of this garden with water. If our Lord never ceased to pour it
down whenever it was necessary, the gardener certainly would have
plenty of rest; and if there were no winter, but an ever temperate
season, fruits and flowers would never fail. The gardener would have
his delight therein; but in this life that is impossible. We must
always be careful, when one water fails, to obtain another. This
water from heaven comes down very often when the gardener least
expects it.

13. The truth is that, in the beginning, this
almost always happens after much mental prayer. Our Lord advances
step by step to lay hold of the little bird, and to lay it in the nest
where it may repose. He observed it fluttering for a long time,
striving with the understanding and the will, and with all its might,
to seek God and to please Him; so now it is His pleasure to reward it
even in this life. And what a reward!â€”one moment is enough to repay
all the possible trials of this life.

14. The soul, while thus seeking after God, is
conscious, with a joy excessive and sweet, that it is, as it were,
utterly fainting away in a kind of trance: breathing, and all the
bodily strength, fail it, so that it cannot even move the hands
without great pain; the eyes close involuntarily, and if they are
open, they are as if they saw nothing; nor is reading possible,â€”the
very letters seem strange, and cannot be distinguished,â€”the letters,
indeed, are visible, but, as the understanding furnishes no help, all
reading is impracticable, though seriously attempted. The ear hears;
but what is heard is not comprehended. The senses are of no use
whatever, except to hinder the soul's fruition; and so they rather
hurt it. It is useless to try to speak, because it is not possible to
conceive a word; nor, if it were conceived, is there strength
sufficient to utter it;

for all bodily strength vanishes, and that of the soul increases,
to enable it the better to have the fruition of its joy. Great and
most perceptible, also, is the outward joy now felt.

15. This prayer, however long it may last,
does no harmâ€”at least, it has never done any to me; nor do I
remember, however ill I might have been when our Lord had mercy upon
me in this way, that I ever felt the worse for itâ€”on the contrary, I
was always better afterwards. But so great a blessing, what harm can
it do? The outward effects are so plain as to leave no doubt possible
that there must have been some great cause, seeing that it thus robs
us of our bodily powers with so much joy, in order to leave
them greater.

16. The truth is, it passes away so quickly in
the beginningâ€”at least, so it was with meâ€”that neither by the
outward signs, nor by the failure of the senses, can it be perceived
when it passes so quickly away. But it is plain, from the overflowing
abundance of grace, that the brightness of the sun which had shone
there must have been great, seeing that it has thus made the soul to
melt away. And this is to be considered; for, as it seems to me, the
period of time, however long it may have been, during which the
faculties of the soul were entranced, is very short; if half an hour,
that would be a long time. I do not think that I have ever been so
long.[250] The truth of the matter is this: it
is extremely difficult to know how long, because the senses are in
suspense; but I think that at any time it cannot be very long before
some one of the faculties recovers itself. It is the will that
persists in the work; the other two faculties quickly begin to molest
it. As the will is calm, it entrances them again; they are quiet for
another moment, and then they recover themselves once more.

17. In this way, some hours may be, and are,
passed in prayer; for when the two faculties begin to

drink deep, and to perceive the taste of this divine wine, they
give themselves up with great readiness, in order to be the more
absorbed: they follow the will, and the three rejoice together. But
this state of complete absorption, together with the utter rest of the
imagination,â€”for I believe that even the imagination is then wholly
at rest,â€”lasts only for a short time; though the faculties do not so
completely recover themselves as not to be for some hours afterwards
as if in disorder: God, from time to time, drawing them
to Himself.

18. Let us now come to that which the soul
feels interiorly. Let him describe it who knows it; for as it is
impossible to understand it, much more is it so to describe it. When
I purposed to write this, I had just communicated, and had risen from
the very prayer of which I am speaking. I am thinking of what the
soul was then doing. Our Lord said to me: It undoes itself utterly,
My daughter, in order that it may give itself more and more to Me: it
is not itself that then lives, it is I. As it cannot comprehend what
it understands, it understands by
not understanding.[251]

19. He who has had experience of this will
understand it in some measure, for it cannot be more clearly
described, because what then takes place is so obscure. All I am able
to say is, that the soul is represented as being close to God; and
that there abides a conviction thereof so certain and strong, that it
cannot possibly help believing so. All the faculties fail now, and
are suspended in such a way that, as I said
before,[252] their

operations cannot be traced. If the soul is making a meditation on
any subject, the memory of it is lost at once, just as if it had never
been thought of. If it reads, what is read is not remembered nor
dwelt upon; neither is it otherwise with vocal prayer. Accordingly,
the restless little butterfly of the memory has its wings burnt now,
and it cannot fly. The will must be fully occupied in loving, but it
understands not how it loves; the understanding, if it understands,
does not understand how it understandsâ€”at least, it can comprehend
nothing of that it understands: it does not understand, as it seems to
me, because, as I said just now, this cannot be understood. I do not
understand it at all myself.

20. In the beginning, it happened to me that I
was ignorant of one thingâ€”I did not know that God was in all
things:[253] and when He seemed to me to be so
near, I thought it impossible. Not to believe that He was present,
was not in my power; for it seemed to me, as it were, evident that I
felt there His very presence. Some unlearned men used to say to me,
that He was present only by His grace. I could not believe that,
because, as I am saying, He seemed to me to be present Himself: so I
was distressed. A most learned man, of the Order of the glorious
Patriarch St. Dominic, delivered me from
this doubt; for he told me that He was present, and how He communed
with us: this was a great comfort to me.

21. It is to be observed and understood that
this water from heaven,â€”this greatest grace of our Lordâ€”always
leaves in the soul the greatest fruits, as I shall now show.

The Life

Chapter XIX

The Effects of This Fourth State of Prayer. Earnest
Exhortations to Those Who Have Attained to It Not to Go Back, Nor to
Cease from Prayer, Even If They Fall. The Great Calamity of
Going Back.

There remains in the soul, when the prayer
of union is over, an exceedingly great tenderness; so much so, that it
would undo itselfâ€”not from pain, but through tears of joy it finds
itself bathed therein, without being aware of it, and it knows not how
or when it wept them. But to behold the violence of the fire subdued
by the water, which yet makes it burn the more, gives it great
delight. It seems as if I were speaking an unknown language. So it
is, however.

2. It has happened to me occasionally, when
this prayer was over, to be so beside myself as not to know whether I
had been dreaming, or whether the bliss I felt had really been mine;
and, on finding myself in a flood of tearsâ€”which had painlessly
flowed, with such violence and rapidity that it seemed as if a cloud
from heaven[254] had shed themâ€”to perceive that
it was no dream. Thus it was with me in the beginning, when it passed
quickly away. The soul remains possessed of so much courage, that if
it were now hewn in pieces for God, it would be a great consolation to
it. This is the time of resolutions, of heroic determinations, of the
living energy of good desires, of the beginning of hatred of the
world, and of the most clear perception of its vanity. The soul makes
greater and higher progress than it ever made before in the previous
states of prayer; and grows in humility more and more, because it sees
clearly that neither for obtaining nor for retaining this grace,
great beyond all measure, has it ever

done, or ever been able to do, anything of itself. It looks upon
itself as most unworthyâ€”for in a room into which the sunlight enters
strongly, not a cobweb can be hid; it sees its own misery;
self-conceit is so far away, that it seems as if it never could have
had anyâ€”for now its own eyes behold how very little it could ever do,
or rather, that it never did anything, that it hardly gave even its
own consent, but that it rather seemed as if the doors of the senses
were closed against its will in order that it might have more
abundantly the fruition of our Lord. It is abiding alone with Him:
what has it to do but to love Him? It neither sees nor hears, unless
on compulsion: no thanks to it. Its past life stands before it then,
together with the great mercy of God, in great distinctness; and it is
not necessary for it to go forth to hunt with the understanding,
because what it has to eat and ruminate upon, it sees now ready
prepared. It sees, so far as itself is concerned, that it has
deserved hell, and that its punishment is bliss. It undoes itself in
the praises of God, and I would gladly undo myself now.

3. Blessed be Thou, O my Lord, who, out of a
pool so filthy as I am, bringest forth water so clean as to be meet
for Thy table! Praised be Thou, O Joy of the Angels, who hast been
thus pleased to exalt so vile a worm!

4. The good effects of this prayer abide in the
soul for some time. Now that it clearly apprehends that the fruit is
not its own, the soul can begin to share it with others, and that
without any loss to itself. It begins to show signs of its being a
soul that is guarding the treasures of heaven, and to be desirous of
communicating them
to others,[255] and to pray
to God that itself may not be the only soul that is rich in them. It
begins to benefit its neighbours, as it were, without being aware of
it, or doing anything consciously: its neighbours understand the
matter, because the odour

of the flowers has grown so strong as to make them eager to
approach them. They understand that this soul is full of virtue: they
see the fruit, how delicious it is, and they wish to help that soul to
eat it.

5. If this ground be well dug by troubles, by
persecutions, detractions, and infirmities,â€”they are few who ascend
so high without this,â€”if it be well broken up by great detachment
from all self-interest, it will drink in so much water that it can
hardly ever be parched again. But if it be ground which is mere
waste, and covered with thorns (as I was when I began); if the
occasions of sin be not avoided; if it be an ungrateful soil, unfitted
for so great a grace,â€”it will be parched up again. If the gardener
become careless,â€”and if our Lord, out of His mere goodness, will not
send down rain upon it,â€”the garden is ruined. Thus has it been with
me more than once, so that I am amazed at it; and if I had not found
it so by experience, I could not have believed it.

6. I write this for the comfort of souls which
are weak, as I am, that they may never despair, nor cease to trust in
the power of God; even if they should fall after our Lord has raised
them to so high a degree of prayer as this is, they must not be
discouraged, unless they would lose themselves utterly. Tears gain
everything, and one drop of water attracts another.

7. One of the reasons that move me, who am what
I am, under obedience to write this, and give an account of my
wretched life, and of the graces our Lord has wrought in me,â€”though I
never served Him, but offended Him rather,â€”is what I have just given:
and, certainly, I wish I was a person of great authority, that people
might believe what I say. I pray to our Lord that His Majesty would
be pleased to grant me this grace. I repeat it, let no one who has
begun to give himself to prayer be discouraged, and say: If I fall
into sin, it will be worse for me if I go on now with the practice of
prayer. I think so too, if he gives up

prayer, and does not correct his evil ways; but if he does not give
up prayer, let him be assured of thisâ€”prayer will bring him to the
haven of light.

8. In this the devil turned his batteries
against me, and I suffered so much because I thought it showed but
little humility if I persevered in prayer when I was so wicked,
thatâ€” as I have
already said[256]â€”I gave it up
for a year and a halfâ€”at least, for a year, but I do not remember
distinctly the other six months. This could not have been, neither
was it, anything else but to throw myself down into hell; there was no
need of any devils to drag me thither. O my God, was there ever
blindness so great as this? How well Satan prepares his measures for
his purpose, when he pursues us in this way! The traitor knows that
he has already lost that soul which perseveres in prayer, and that
every fall which he can bring about helps it, by the goodness of God,
to make greater progress in His service. Satan has some interest
in this.

9. O my Jesus, what a sight that must beâ€”a
soul so highly exalted falling into sin, and raised up again by Thee;
who, in Thy mercy, stretchest forth Thine hand to save! How such a
soul confesses Thy greatness and compassion and its own wretchedness!
It really looks on itself as nothingness, and confesses Thy power. It
dares not lift up its eyes; it raises them, indeed, but it is to
acknowledge how much it oweth unto Thee. It becomes devout to the
Queen of Heaven, that she may propitiate Thee; it invokes the Saints,
who fell after Thou hadst called them, for succour. Thou seemest now
to be too bountiful in Thy gifts, because it feels itself to be
unworthy of the earth it treads on. It has recourse to the
Sacraments, to a quickened faith, which abides in it at the
contemplation of the power which Thou hast lodged in them. It praises
Thee because Thou hast left us such medicines and ointment for our
wounds, which not only heal them on the surface, but remove all traces
whatever of them.

10. The soul is amazed at it. Who is there, O
Lord of my soul, that is not amazed at compassion so great and mercy
so surpassing, after treason so foul and so hateful? I know not how
it is that my heart does not break when I write this, for I am wicked.
With these scanty tears which I am now weeping, but yet Thy
gift,â€”water out of a well, so far as it is mine, so impure,â€”I seem
to make Thee some recompense for treachery so great as mine, in that I
was always doing evil, labouring to make void the graces Thou hast
given me. Do Thou, O Lord, make my tears available; purify the water
which is so muddy; at least, let me not be to others a temptation to
rash judgments, as I have been to myself, when I used to think such
thoughts as these. Why, O Lord, dost Thou pass by most holy persons,
who have always served Thee, and who have been tried; who have been
brought up in religion, and are really religiousâ€”not such as I am,
having only the nameâ€”so as to make it plain that they are not
recipients of those graces which Thou hast bestowed upon me?

11. I see clearly now, O Thou my Good, Thou
hast kept the reward to give it them all at once: my weakness has need
of these succours. They, being strong, serve Thee without them, and
Thou dealest with them as with a strong race, free from all
self-interest. But yet Thou knowest, O my Lord, that I have often
cried unto Thee, making excuses for those who murmured against me; for
I thought they had reason on their side. This I did then when Thou of
Thy goodness hadst kept me back from offending Thee so much, and when
I was departing from everything which I thought displeasing unto Thee.
It was when I did this that Thou, O Lord, didst begin to lay open Thy
treasures for Thy servant. It seemed as if Thou wert looking for
nothing else but that I should be willing and ready to receive them;
accordingly, Thou didst begin at once, not only to give them, but also
to make others know that Thou wert giving them.

12. When this was known, there began to
prevail a good opinion of her, of whom all had not yet clearly
understood how wicked she was, though much of that wickedness was
plain enough. Calumny and persecution began at once, and, as I think,
with good reason; so I looked on none of them as an enemy, but made my
supplications to Thee, imploring Thee to consider the grounds they
had. They said that I wished to be a saint, and that I invented
novelties; but I had not then attained in many things even to the
observance of my rule; nor had I come near those excellent and holy
nuns who were in the house,â€”and I do not believe I ever shall, if God
of His goodness will not do that for me Himself; on the contrary, I
was there only to do away with what was good, and introduce customs
which were not good; at least, I did what I could to bring them in,
and I was very powerful for evil. Thus it was that they were
blameless, when they blamed me. I do not mean the nuns only, but the
others as well: they told me truths; for it was Thy will.

13. I was once saying the Office,â€”I had had
this temptation for some time,â€”and when I came to these words, "Justus es, Domine, et rectum judicium
tuum,"[257] I began to think what a
deep truth it was. Satan never was strong enough to tempt me in any
way to doubt of Thy goodness, or of any article of the faith: on the
contrary, it seems to me that the more these truths were above nature,
the more firmly I held them, and my devotion grew; when I thought of
Thy omnipotence, I accepted all Thy wonderful works, and I say it
again, I never had a doubt. Then, as I was thinking how it could be
just in Thee to allow so many, who, as I said, are Thy most faithful
servants, to remain without those consolations and graces which Thou
hast given to me, who am what I am, Thou, O my Lord, didst answer me:
Serve thou Me, and meddle not with this.

14. This was the first word which I ever heard
Thee speak to me, and it made me greatly afraid. But as I shall speak
hereafter[258] of this way of hearing, and of
other matters, I say nothing here; for to do so would be to digress
from my subject, and I have already made digressions enough. I
scarcely know what I have said, nor can it be otherwise; but you, my
father, must bear with these interruptions; for when I consider what
God must have borne with from me, and when I see the state I am in, it
is not strange that I should wander in what I am saying, and what I
have still to say.

15. May it please our Lord that my wanderings
may be of this kind, and may His Majesty never suffer me to have
strength to resist Him even in the least; yea, rather than that, may
He destroy me this moment. It is evidence enough of His great
compassions, that He has forgiven so much ingratitude, not once, but
often. He forgave St. Peter once; but I
have been forgiven many times. Satan had good reasons for tempting
me: I ought never to have pretended to a strict friendship with One,
my hatred of whom I made so public. Was there ever blindness so great
as mine? Where could I think I should find help but in Thee? What
folly to run away from the light, to be for ever stumbling! What a
proud humility was that which Satan devised for me, when I ceased to
lean upon the pillar, and threw the staff away which supported me, in
order that my fall might not
be great![259]

16. I make the sign of the cross this moment.
I do not think I ever escaped so great a danger as this device of
Satan, which he would have imposed upon me in the disguise of
humility.[260] He filled me with such thoughts
as these: How could I make my prayer, who was so wicked, and yet had
received so many mercies? It was enough for me to recite the Office,
as all others did; but as I did not that much well, how could I desire
to

do more? I was not reverential enough, and made too little of the
mercies of God. There was no harm in these thoughts and feelings in
themselves; but to act upon them, that was an exceedingly great
wickedness. Blessed be Thou, O Lord; for Thou camest to my help.
This seems to me to be in principle the temptation of Judas, only that
Satan did not dare to tempt me so openly. But he might have led me by
little and little, as he led Judas, to the same pit
of destruction.

17. Let all those who give themselves to
prayer, for the love of God, look well to this. They should know that
when I was neglecting it, my life was much worse than it had ever
been; let them reflect on the excellent help and the pleasant humility
which Satan provided for me: it was a grave interior disquietude. But
how could my spirit be quiet? It was going away in its misery from
its true rest. I remembered the graces and mercies I had received,
and felt that the joys of this world were loathsome. I am astonished
that I was able to bear it. It must have been the hope I had; for, as
well as I can remember now, it is more than twenty-one years ago. I
do not think I ever gave up my purpose of resuming my prayer; but I
was waiting to be very free from sin first.

18. Oh, how deluded I was in this expectation!
The devil would have held it out before me till the day of judgment,
that he might then take me with him to hell. Then, when I applied
myself to prayer and to spiritual reading,â€”whereby I might perceive
these truths, and the evil nature of the way I was walking in, and was
often importunate with our Lord in tears,â€”I was so wicked, that it
availed me nothing; when I gave that up, and wasted my time in amusing
myself, in great danger of falling into sin, and with scanty
helps,â€”and I may venture to say no help at all, unless it was a help
to my ruin,â€”what could I expect but that of which I have spoken?

19. I believe that a certain Dominican friar,
a most

learned man, has greatly merited in the eyes of God; for it was he
who roused me from this slumber. He made meâ€”I think I said so
before[261]â€”go to Communion once a fortnight,
and be less given to evil; I began to be converted, though I did not
cease to offend our Lord all at once: however, as I had not lost my
way, I walked on in it, though slowly, falling and rising again; and
he who does not cease to walk and press onwards, arrives at last, even
if late. To lose one's way isâ€”so it seems to meâ€”nothing else but
the giving up of prayer. God, of His mercy, keeps us from this!

20. It is clear from this,â€”and, for the love
of God, consider it well,â€”that a soul, though it may receive great
graces from God in prayer, must never rely on itself, because it may
fall, nor expose itself in any way whatever to any risks of sin. This
should be well considered because much depends on it; for the delusion
here, wherein Satan is able to entangle us afterwards, though the
grace be really from God, lies in the traitor's making use of that
very grace, so far as he can, for his own purpose, and particularly
against persons not grown strong in virtues, who are neither mortified
nor detached; for these are not at present strong enoughâ€”as I shall
explain hereafter[262]â€”to expose themselves to
dangerous occasions, notwithstanding the noble desires and resolutions
they may have.

21. This doctrine is excellent, and not mine,
but the teaching of God, and accordingly I wish ignorant people like
myself knew it; for even if a soul were in this state, it must not
rely so much upon itself as to go forth to the battle, because it will
have enough to do in defending itself. Defensive armour is the
present necessity; the soul is not yet strong enough to assail Satan,
and to trample him under foot, as those are who are in the state of
which I shall speak
further on.[263]

22. This is the delusion by which Satan
prevails:

when a soul sees itself so near unto God, when it sees the
difference there is between the things of heaven and those of earth,
and when it sees the love which our Lord bears it, there grows out of
that love a certain trust and confidence that there is to be no
falling away from that the fruition of which it then possesses. It
seems to see the reward distinctly, as if it were impossible for it to
abandon that which, even in this life, is so delicious and sweet, for
anything so mean and impure as worldly joy. Through this confidence,
Satan robs it of that distrust which it ought to have in itself; and
so, as I have
just said,[264] the soul exposes
itself to dangers, and begins, in the fulness of its zeal, to give
away without discretion the fruit of its garden, thinking that now it
has no reason to be afraid for itself. Yet this does not come out of
pride; for the soul clearly understands that of itself it can do no
good thing; but rather out of an excessive confidence in God, without
discretion: because the soul does not see itself to be unfledged. It
can go forth out of its nest, and God Himself may take it out, but
still it cannot fly, because the virtues are not strong, and itself
has no experience wherewith to discern the dangers; nor is it aware of
the evil which trusting to itself may do it.

23. This it was that ruined me. Now, to
understand this, and everything else in the spiritual life, we have
great need of a director, and of conference with spiritual persons. I
fully believe, with respect to that soul which God raises to this
state, that He will not cease to be gracious to it, nor suffer it to
be lost, if it does not utterly forsake His Majesty. But when that
soulâ€”as I saidâ€”falls, let it look to it again and again, for the
love of our Lord, that Satan deceive it not by tempting it to give up
prayer, as he tempted me, through that false humility of which I have
spoken before,[265] and would gladly speak of
again and again. Let it rely on the goodness of God, which is
greater than

all the evil we can do. When we, acknowledging our own vileness,
desire to return into His grace, He remembers our ingratitude no
more,â€”no, not even the graces He has given us, for the purpose of
chastising us, because of our misuse of them; yea, rather, they help
to procure our pardon the sooner, as of persons who have been members
of His household, and who, as they say, have eaten of His bread.

24. Let them remember His words, and behold
what He hath done unto me, who grew weary of sinning before He grew
weary of forgiving. He is never weary of giving, nor can His
compassion be exhausted. Let us not grow weary ourselves of
receiving. May He be blessed for ever, Amen; and may all created
things praise Him!

The Life

Chapter XX

The Difference Between Union and Rapture. What Rapture Is.
The Blessing It Is to the Soul. The Effects of It.

I wish I could explain, with the help of
God, wherein union differs from rapture, or from transport, or from
flight of the spirit, as they speak, or from a trance, which are all
one.[266] I mean, that all these are only
different names for that one and the same thing, which is also called
ecstasy.[267] It is more excellent
than union,

the fruits of it are much greater, and its other operations more
manifold; for union is uniform in the beginning, the middle, and the
end, and is so also interiorly. But as raptures have ends of a much
higher kind, they produce effects both within and
without.[268] As our Lord has explained the
other matters, so also may He explain this; for certainly, if He had
not shown me in what way and by what means this explanation was in
some measure possible, I should never have been able to do it.

2. Consider we now that this last water, of
which I am speaking, is so abundant that, were it not that the ground
refuses to receive it, we might suppose that the cloud of His great
Majesty is here raining down upon us on earth. And when we are giving
Him thanks for this great mercy, drawing near to Him in earnest, with
all our might, then it is our Lord draws up the soul, as the clouds,
so to speak, gather the mists from the face of the earth, and carries
it away out of itself,â€”I have heard it said that the clouds, or the
sun, draw the
mists together,[269]â€”and as a
cloud, rising up to heaven, takes the soul with Him, and begins to
show it the treasures of the kingdom which He has prepared for it. I
know not whether the comparison be accurate or not; but the fact is,
that is the way in which it is brought about. During rapture, the
soul does not seem to animate the body, the natural heat of which is
perceptibly lessened; the coldness increases, though accompanied with
exceeding joy
and sweetness.[270]

3. A rapture is absolutely irresistible; whilst
union, inasmuch as we are then on our own ground, may be hindered,
though that resistance be painful and violent; it is, however, almost
always impossible. But rapture, for the most part, is irresistible.
It comes, in general, as a shock, quick and sharp, before you can
collect your thoughts, or help yourself in any way, and you see and
feel it as a cloud, or a strong eagle rising upwards, and carrying you
away on its wings.

4. I repeat it: you feel and see yourself
carried away, you know not whither. For though we feel how delicious
it is, yet the weakness of our nature makes us afraid at first, and we
require a much more resolute and courageous spirit than in the
previous states, in order to risk everything, come what may, and to
abandon ourselves into the hands of God, and go willingly whither we
are carried, seeing that we must be carried away, however painful it
may be; and so trying is it, that I would very often resist, and exert
all my strength, particularly at those times when the rapture was
coming on me in public. I did so, too, very often when I was alone,
because I was afraid of delusions. Occasionally I was able, by great
efforts, to make a slight resistance; but afterwards I was worn out,
like a person who had been contending with a strong giant; at other
times it was impossible to resist at all: my soul was carried away,
and almost always my head with it,â€”I had no power over it,â€”and now
and then the whole body as well, so that it was lifted up from
the ground.

5. This has not happened to me often: once,
however, it took place when we were all together in choir, and I, on
my knees, on the point of communicating. It was a very sore distress
to me; for I thought it a most extraordinary thing, and was afraid it
would occasion much talk; so I commanded the nunsâ€”for it happened
after I was made Prioressâ€”never to speak of it. But at other times,
the moment

I felt that our Lord was about to repeat the act, and once, in
particular, during a sermon,â€”it was the feast of our house, some
great ladies being present,â€”I threw myself on the ground; then the
nuns came around me to hold me; but still the rapture
was observed.

6. I made many supplications to our Lord, that
He would be pleased to give me no more of those graces which were
outwardly visible; for I was weary of living under such great
restraint, and because His Majesty could not bestow such graces on me
without their becoming known. It seems that, of His goodness, He has
been pleased to hear my prayer; for I have never been enraptured
since. It is true that it was not
long ago.[271]

7. It seemed to me, when I tried to make some
resistance, as if a great force beneath my feet lifted me up. I know
of nothing with which to compare it; but it was much more violent than
the other spiritual visitations, and I was therefore as one ground to
pieces; for it is a great struggle, and, in short, of little use,
whenever our Lord so wills it. There is no power against
His power.

8. At other times He is pleased to be satisfied
when He makes us see that He is ready to give us this grace, and that
it is not He that withholds it. Then, when we resist it out of
humility, He produces those very effects which would have resulted if
we had fully consented to it.

9. The effects of rapture are great: one is
that the mighty power of our Lord is manifested; and as we are not
strong enough, when His Majesty wills it, to control either soul or
body, so neither have we any power over it; but, whether we like it or
not, we see that there is one mightier than we are, that these graces
are His gifts, and that of ourselves we can do nothing whatever; and
humility is deeply imprinted in us. And

further, I confess that it threw me into great fear, very great
indeed at first; for when I saw my body thus lifted up from the earth,
how could I help it? Though the spirit draws it upwards after itself,
and that with great sweetness, if unresisted, the senses are not lost;
at least, I was so much myself as to be able to see that I was being
lifted up. The majesty of Him who can effect this so manifests
itself, that the hairs of my head stand
upright,[272] and a great fear comes upon me of
offending God, who is so mighty. This fear is bound up in exceedingly
great love, which is acquired anew, and directed to Him, who, we see,
bears so great a love to a worm so vile, and who seems not to be
satisfied with attracting the soul to Himself in so real a way, but
who will have the body also, though it be mortal and of earth so foul,
such as it is through our sins, which are so great.

10. Rapture leaves behind a certain strange
detachment also, which I shall never be able to describe; I think I
can say that it is in some respects different fromâ€”yea, higher
thanâ€”the other graces, which are simply spiritual; for though these
effect a complete detachment in spirit from all things, it seems that
in this of rapture our Lord would have the body itself to be detached
also: and thus a certain singular estrangement from the things of
earth is wrought, which makes life much more distressing. Afterwards
it causes a pain, which we can never inflict of ourselves, nor remove
when once it has come.

11. I should like very much to explain this
great pain, and I believe I shall not be able; however, I will say
something if I can. And it is to be observed that this is my present
state, and one to which I have been brought very lately, after all the
visions and revelations of which I shall speak, and after that time,
wherein I gave myself to prayer, in which our Lord gave me so

much sweetness
and delight.[273] Even now I
have that sweetness occasionally; but it is the pain of which I speak
that is the most frequent and the most common. It varies in its
intensity. I will now speak of it when it is sharpest; for I shall
speak later on[274] of the great shocks I used
to feel when our Lord would throw me into those trances, and which
are, in my opinion, as different from this pain as the most corporeal
thing is from the most spiritual; and I believe that I am not
exaggerating much. For though the soul feels that pain, it is in
company with the body;[275] both soul and body
apparently share it, and it is not attended with that extremity of
abandonment which belongs to this.

12. As I said
before,[276] we have no part in causing this
pain; but very often there springs up a desire unexpectedly,â€”I know
not how it comes,â€”and because of this desire, which pierces the soul
in a moment, the soul begins to be wearied, so much so that it rises
upwards above itself, and above all created things. God then so
strips it of everything, that, do what it may, there is nothing on
earth that can be its companion. Neither, indeed, would it wish to
have any; it would rather die in that loneliness. If people spoke to
it, and if itself made every effort possible to speak, it would be of
little use: the spirit, notwithstanding all it may do, cannot be
withdrawn from that loneliness; and though God seems, as it were, far
away from the soul at that moment, yet He reveals His grandeurs at
times in the strangest way conceivable. That way is indescribable; I
do not think any one can believe or comprehend it who has not
previously had experience of it. It is a communication made, not to
console, but to show the reason why the soul must be weary; because it
is far away from the Good which in itself comprehends all good.

13. In this communication the desire grows,
so also

does the bitterness of that loneliness wherein the soul beholds
itself, suffering a pain so sharp and piercing that, in that very
loneliness in which it dwells, it may literally say of itself,â€”and
perhaps the royal prophet said so, being in that very loneliness
himself, except that our Lord may have granted to him, being a saint,
to feel it more deeply,â€”"Vigilavi, et factus sum sicut passer
solitarius
in tecto."[277] These words
presented themselves to me in such a way that I thought I saw them
fulfilled in myself. It was a comfort to know that others had felt
this extreme loneliness; how much greater my comfort, when these
persons were such as David was! The soul is thenâ€”so I thinkâ€”not in
itself, but on the house-top, or on the roof, above itself, and above
all created things; for it seems to me to have its dwelling higher
than even in the highest part of itself.

14. On other occasions, the soul seems to be,
as it were, in the utmost extremity of need, asking itself, and
saying, "Where is
Thy God?"[278] And
it is to be remembered, that I did not know how to express in Spanish
the meaning of those words. Afterwards, when I understood what it
was, I used to console myself with the thought, that our Lord, without
any effort of mine, had made me remember them. At other times, I used
to recollect a saying of St. Paul's, to the
effect that he was crucified to the
world.[279] I do not mean that this is true
of me: I know it is not; but I think it is the state of the enraptured
soul. No consolation reaches it from heaven, and it is not there
itself; it wishes for none from earth, and it is not there either; but
it is, as it were, crucified between heaven and earth, enduring its
passion: receiving no succour from either.

15. Now, the succour it receives from
heavenâ€”which, as I
have said,[280] is a most
marvellous knowledge of God, above all that we can desireâ€”brings with
it greater pain; for the desire then so grows, that, in my opinion,
its intense painfulness now and then robs the soul of all sensation;
only, it lasts but for a short time after the senses are suspended. It
seems as if it were the point of death; only, the agony carries with
it so great a joy, that I know of nothing wherewith to compare it. It
is a sharp martyrdom, full of sweetness; for if any earthly thing be
then offered to the soul, even though it may be that which it
habitually found most sweet, the soul will have none of it; yea, it
seems to throw it away at once. The soul sees distinctly that it
seeks nothing but God; yet its love dwells not on any attribute of Him
in particular; it seeks Him as He is, and knows not what it seeks. I
say that it knows not, because the imagination forms no representation
whatever; and, indeed, as I think, during much of that time the
faculties are at rest. Pain suspends them then, as joy suspends them
in union and in a trance.

16. O Jesus! oh, that some one would clearly
explain this to you, my father, were it only that you may tell me what
it means, because this is the habitual state of my soul! Generally,
when I am not particularly occupied, I fall into these agonies of
death, and I tremble when I feel them coming on, because they are not
unto death. But when I am in them, I then wish to spend therein all
the rest of my life, though the pain be so very great, that I can
scarcely endure it. Sometimes my pulse ceases, as it were, to beat at
all,â€”so the sisters say, who sometimes approach me, and who now
understand the matter better,â€”my bones are racked, and my hands
become so rigid, that I cannot always join them. Even on the following
day I have a pain in my wrists, and over my whole body, as if my

bones were out
of joint.[281] Well, I
think sometimes, if it continues as at present, that it will end, in
the good pleasure of our Lord, by putting an end to my life; for the
pain seems to me sharp enough to cause death; only, I do not
deserve it.

17. All my anxiety at these times is that I
should die: I do not think of purgatory, nor of the great sins I have
committed, and by which I have deserved hell. I forget everything in
my eagerness to see God; and this abandonment and loneliness seem
preferable to any company in the world. If anything can be a
consolation in this state, it is to speak to one who has passed
through this trial, seeing that, though the soul may complain of it,
no one seems disposed to believe in it.

18. The soul is tormented also because the
pain has increased so much, that it seeks solitude no longer, as it
did before, nor companionship, unless it be that of those to whom it
may make its complaint. It is now like a person, who, having a rope
around his neck, and being strangled, tries to breathe. This desire of
companionship seems to me to proceed from our weakness; for, as pain
brings with it the risk of death,â€”which it certainly does; for I have
been occasionally in danger of death, in my great sickness and
infirmities, as I have
said before,[282] and I
think I may say that this pain is as great as any,â€”so the desire not
to be parted, which possesses soul and body, is that which raises the
cry for succour in order to breathe, and by speaking of it, by
complaining, and distracting itself, causes the soul to seek means of
living very much against the will of the spirit, or the higher part of
the soul, which would not wish to be delivered from this pain.

19. I am not sure that I am correct in what I
say, nor do I know how to express myself, but to the best

of my knowledge it comes to pass in this way. See, my father, what
rest I can have in this life, now that what I once had in prayer and
lonelinessâ€”therein our Lord used to comfort meâ€”has become in general
a torment of this kind; while, at the same time, it is so full of
sweetness, that the soul, discerning its inestimable worth, prefers it
to all those consolations which it formerly had. It seems also to be
a safer state, because it is the way of the cross; and involves, in my
opinion, a joy of exceeding worth, because the state of the body in it
is only pain. It is the soul that suffers and exults alone in that
joy and contentment which suffering supplies.

20. I know not how this can be, but so it is;
it comes from the hand of our Lord, and, as I said
before,[283] is not anything that I have
acquired myself, because it is exceedingly supernatural, and I think I
would not barter it for all the graces of which I shall speak further
on: I do not say for all of them together, but for any one of them
separately. And it must not be forgotten that, as I have just said,
these impetuosities came upon me after I had received those graces
from our Lord[284] which I am speaking of now,
and all those described in this book, and it is in this state our Lord
keeps me at
this moment.[285]

21. In the beginning I was afraidâ€”it happens
to me to be almost always so when our Lord leads me by a new way,
until His Majesty reassures me as I proceedâ€”and so our Lord bade me
not to fear, but to esteem this grace more than all the others He had
given me; for the soul was purified by this painâ€”burnished, or
refined as gold in the crucible, so that it might be the better
enamelled with His gifts, and the dross burnt away in this life, which
would have to be burnt away in purgatory.

22. I understood perfectly that this pain was
a great grace; but I was much more certain of it now and my confessor
tells me I did well. And though I was afraid, because I was so
wicked, I never could believe it was anything wrong: on the other
hand, the exceeding greatness of the blessing made me afraid, when I
called to mind how little I had deserved it. Blessed be our Lord, who
is so good! Amen.

23. I have, it seems, wandered from my
subject; for I began by speaking of raptures, and that of which I have
been speaking is even more than a rapture, and the effects of it are
what I have described. Now let us return to raptures, and speak of
their ordinary characteristics. I have to say that, when the rapture
was over, my body seemed frequently to be buoyant, as if all weight
had departed from it; so much so, that now and then I scarcely knew
that my feet touched the ground. But during the rapture itself the
body is very often as if it were dead, perfectly powerless. It
continues in the position it was in when the rapture came upon itâ€”if
sitting, sitting; if the hands were open, or if they were shut, they
will remain open
or shut.[286] For though the
senses fail but rarely, it has happened to me occasionally to lose
them whollyâ€”seldom, however, and then only for a short time. But in
general they are in disorder; and though they have no power whatever
to deal with outward things, there remains the power of hearing and
seeing; but it is as if the things heard and seen were at a great
distance, far away.

24. I do not say that the soul sees and hears
when the rapture is at the highest,â€”I mean by at the highest, when
the faculties are lost, because profoundly united with God,â€”for then
it neither sees, nor hears, nor perceives, as I believe; but, as I
said of the previous prayer
of union,[287]
this utter transformation of the soul in God continues only for an
instant; yet while it continues no faculty of the soul is aware
of it,

or knows what is passing there. Nor can it be understood while we
are living on the earthâ€”at least, God will not have us understand it,
because we must be incapable of understanding it. I know it
by experience.

25. You, my father, will ask me: How comes it,
then, that a rapture occasionally lasts so many hours? What has often
happened to me is this,â€”I spoke of it before, when writing of the
previous state
of prayer,[288]â€”the rapture is
not continuous, the soul is frequently absorbed, or, to speak more
correctly, our Lord absorbs it in Himself; and when He has held it
thus for a moment, the will alone remains in union with Him. The
movements of the two other faculties seem to me to be like those of
the needle of sun-dials, which is never at rest; yet when the Sun of
Justice will have it so, He can hold it still.

26. This I speak of lasts but a moment; yet,
as the impulse and the upraising of the spirit were vehement, and
though the other faculties bestir themselves again, the will continues
absorbed, and causes this operation in the body, as if it were the
absolute mistress; for now that the two other faculties are restless,
and attempt to disturb it, it takes careâ€”for if it is to have
enemies, the fewer the betterâ€”that the senses also shall not trouble
it: and thus it comes to pass that the senses are suspended; for so
our Lord wills it. And for the most part the eyes are closed, though
we may not wish to close them; and if occasionally they remain open,
as I said just now, the soul neither discerns nor considers what
it sees.

27. What the body then can do here is still
less in order that, when the faculties come together again, there may
not be so much to do. Let him, therefore, to whom our Lord has
granted this grace, be not discouraged when he finds himself in this
stateâ€”the body under constraint for many hours, the understanding

and the memory occasionally astray. The truth is that, in general,
they are inebriated with the praises of God, or with searching to
comprehend or understand that which has passed over them. And yet
even for this they are not thoroughly awake, but are rather like one
who has slept long, and dreamed, and is hardly yet awake.

28. I dwell so long on this point because I
know that there are persons now, even in this
place,[289] to whom our Lord is granting these
graces; and if their directors have had no experience in the matter,
they will think, perhaps, that they must be as dead persons during the
tranceâ€” and they will think so the more if they have no learning. It
is piteous to see what those confessors who do not understand this
make people suffer. I shall speak of it by and
by.[290] Perhaps I do not know what I am
saying. You, my father, will understand it, if I am at all correct;
for our Lord has admitted you to the experience of it: yet, because
that experience is not very great, it may be, perhaps, that you have
not considered the matter so much as I have done.

29. So then, though I do all I can, my body
has no strength to move for some time; the soul took it all away.
Very often, too, he who was before sickly and full of pain remains
healthy, and even stronger; for it is something great that is given to
the soul in rapture; and sometimes, as I have said
already,[291] our Lord will have the body
rejoice, because it is obedient in that which the soul requires of it.
When we recover our consciousness, the faculties may remain, if the
rapture has been deep, for a day or two, and even for three days, so
absorbed, or as if stunned,â€”so much so, as to be in appearance no
longer themselves.

30. Here comes the pain of returning to this
life; here it is the wings of the soul grew, to enable it to fly so
high: the weak feathers are fallen off. Now the

standard of Christ is raised up aloft, which seems to be nothing
else but the going up, or the carrying up, of the Captain of the fort
to the highest tower of it, there to raise up the standard of God.
The soul, as in a place of safety, looks down on those below; it fears
no dangers nowâ€”yea, rather, it courts them, as one assured beforehand
of victory. It sees most clearly how lightly are the things of this
world to be esteemed, and the nothingness thereof. The soul now seeks
not, and possesses not, any other will but that of doing our Lord's
will,[292] and so it prays Him to let it be
so; it gives to Him the keys of its own will. Lo, the gardener is now
become the commander of a fortress! The soul will do nothing but the
will of our Lord; it will not act as the owner even of itself, nor of
anything, not even of a single apple in the orchard; only, if there be
any good thing in the garden, it is at His Majesty's disposal; for
from henceforth the soul will have nothing of its own,â€”all it seeks
is to do everything for His glory, and according to His will.

31. This is really the way in which these
things come to pass; if the raptures be true raptures, the fruits and
advantages spoken of abide in the soul; but if they did not, I should
have great doubts about their being from Godâ€”yea, rather, I should be
afraid they were those frenzies of which St. Vincent speaks.[293]
I have seen it myself, and I know it by experience, that the soul in
rapture is mistress of everything, and acquires such freedom in one
hour, and even in less, as to be unable to recognize itself. It sees
distinctly that all this does not belong to it, neither knows it
how it

came to possess so great a good; but it clearly perceives the very
great blessing which every one of these raptures always brings. No
one will believe this who has not had experience of it, and so they do
not believe the poor soul: they saw it lately so wicked, and now they
see it pretend to things of so high an order; for it is not satisfied
with serving our Lord in the common way,â€”it must do so forthwith in
the highest way it can. They consider this a temptation and a folly;
yet they would not be astonished, if they knew that it comes not from
the soul, but from our Lord, to whom it has given up the keys of
its will.

32. For my part, I believe that a soul which
has reached this state neither speaks nor acts of itself, but rather
that the supreme King takes care of all it has to do. O my God, how
clear is the meaning of those words, and what good reason the Psalmist
had, and all the world will ever have, to pray for the wings of a
dove![294] It is plain that this is the
flight of the spirit rising upwards above all created things, and
chiefly above itself: but it is a sweet flight, a delicious flightâ€”a
flight without noise.

33. Oh, what power that soul possesses which
our Lord raises to this state! how it looks down upon everything,
entangled by nothing! how ashamed it is of the time when it was
entangled! how it is amazed at its own blindness! how it pities those
who are still in darkness, especially if they are men of prayer, and
have received consolations from God! It would like to cry out to
them, that they might be made to see the delusions they are in: and,
indeed, it does so now and then; and then a thousand persecutions fall
upon it as a shower. People consider it wanting in humility, and
think it means to teach those from whom it should learn, particularly
if it be a woman. Hence its condemnation; and not without reason;
because they know not how strong the influence is that moves it.

The soul at times cannot help itself; nor can it refrain from
undeceiving those it loves, and whom it longs to see delivered out of
the prison of this life; for that state in which the soul itself had
been before neither is, nor seems to be, anything else but
a prison.

34. The soul is weary of the days during which
it respected points of honour, and the delusion which led it to
believe that to be honour which the world calls by that name; now it
sees it to be the greatest lie, and that we are all walking therein.
It understands that true honour is not delusive, but real, esteeming
that which is worthy of esteem, and despising that which is
despicable; for everything is nothing, and less than nothing, whatever
passeth away, and is not pleasing unto God. The soul laughs at itself
when it thinks of the time in which it regarded money, and desired to
possess it,â€”though, as to this, I verily believe that I never had to
confess such a fault; it was fault enough to have regarded money at
all. If I could purchase with money the blessings which I possess, I
should make much of it; but it is plain that these blessings are
gained by abandoning all things.

35. What is there that is procurable by this
money which we desire? Is it anything of worth, and anything lasting?
Why, then, do we desire it? A dismal resting place it provides, which
costs so dear! Very often it obtains for us hell itself, fire
everlasting, and torments without end. Oh, if all men would but
regard it as profitless dross, how peaceful the world would be! how
free from bargaining! How friendly all men would be one with another,
if no regard were paid to honour and money! I believe it would be a
remedy for everything.

36. The soul sees how blind men are to the
nature of pleasureâ€”how by means of it they provide for themselves
trouble and disquietude even in this life. What restlessness! how
little satisfaction! what labour in vain! It sees, too, not only the
cobwebs that cover it, and its great faults, but also the specks of
dirt, however

slight they may be; for the sun shines most clearly; and thus,
however much the soul may have laboured at its own perfection, it sees
itself to be very unclean, if the rays of the sun fall really upon it.
The soul is like water in a vessel, which appears pellucid when the
sun does not shine through it; but if it does, the water then is found
to be full of motes.

37. This comparison is literally correct.
Before the soul fell into the trance, it thought itself to be careful
about not offending God, and that it did what it could in proportion
to its strength; but now that it has attained to this state, in which
the Sun of Justice shines upon it, and makes it open its eyes, it
beholds so many motes, that it would gladly close them again. It is
not so truly the child of the noble eagle, that it can gaze upon the
sun; but, for the few instants it can keep them open, it beholds
itself wholly unclean. It remembers the words: "Who shall be just
in Thy presence?"[295] When it looks on
this Divine Sun, the brightness thereof dazzles it,â€”when it looks on
itself, its eyes are blinded by the dust: the little dove is blind.
So it happens very often: the soul is utterly blinded, absorbed,
amazed, dizzy at the vision of so much grandeur.

38. It is in rapture that true humility is
acquiredâ€”humility that will never say any good of self, nor suffer
others to do so. The Lord of the garden, not the soul, distributes
the fruit thereof, and so none remains in its hands; all the good it
has, it refers to God; if it says anything about itself, it is for His
glory. It knows that it possesses nothing here; and even if it
wished, it cannot continue ignorant of that. It sees this, as it
were, with the naked eye; for, whether it will or not, its eyes are
shut against the things of this world, and open to see the truth.

The Life

Chapter XXI

Conclusion of the Subject. Pain of the Awakening. Light
Against Delusions.

To bring this matter to an end, I say that
it is not necessary for the soul to give its consent here; it is
already given: the soul knows that it has given up its will into His
hands,[296] and that it cannot deceive Him,
because He knoweth all things. It is not here as it is in the world,
where all life is full of deceit and double-dealing. When you think
you have gained one man's good will, because of the outward show he
makes, you afterwards learn that all was a lie. No one can live in
the midst of so much scheming, particularly if there be any interests
at stake.

2. Blessed, then, is that soul which our Lord
draws on to the understanding of the truth! Oh, what a state for
kings! How much better it would be for them if they strove for this,
rather than for great dominions! How justice would prevail under
their rule! What evils would be prevented, and might have been
prevented already! Here no man fears to lose life or honour for the
love of God. What a grand thing this would be to him who is more
bound than those beneath him to regard the honour of our Lord!â€”for it
is kings whom the crowd must follow. To make one step in the
propagation of the faith, and to give one ray of light to heretics, I
would forfeit a thousand kingdoms. And with good reason: for it is
another thing altogether to gain a kingdom that shall never end,
because one drop of the water of that kingdom, if the soul but tastes
it, renders the things of this world utterly loathsome.

3. If, then, the soul should be wholly
engulfed, what then? O Lord, if Thou wert to give me the right to
publish this abroad, people would not believe meâ€”

as they do not believe many who are able to speak of it in a way
very different from mine; but I should satisfy myself, at least. I
believe I should count my life as nothing, if I might make others
understand but one of these truths. I know not what I shall do
afterwards, for I cannot trust myself; though I am what I am, I have a
violent desire, which is wasting me, to say this to those who are in
authority. And now that I can do no more, I betake myself to Thee, O
my Lord, to implore a remedy for all. Thou knowest well that I would
gladly divest myself of all the graces which Thou hast given
me,â€”provided I remained in a condition never to offend Thee,â€”and
give them up to those who are kings; for I know it would then be
impossible for them to allow what they allow now, or fail to receive
the very greatest blessings.

4. O my God, make kings to understand how far
their obligations reach! Thou hast been pleased to distinguish them
on earth in such a way thatâ€”so I have heardâ€”Thou showest signs in
the heavens when Thou takest any of them away. Certainly, when I
think of this, my devotion is stirred, because Thou wilt have them
learn, O my King, even from this, that they must imitate Thee in their
lives, seeing that, when they die, signs are visible in the heavens,
as it was when Thou wert dying Thyself.

5. I am very bold; if it be wrong, you, my
father, will tear this out: only believe that I should speak much more
to the purpose in the presence of kings,â€”if I might, or thought they
would listen to me,â€”for I recommend them greatly to God, and I wish I
might be of service to them. All this makes one risk life; for I long
frequently to lose mine,â€”and that would be to lose a little for the
chance of gaining much; for surely it is not possible to live, when we
see with our eyes the great delusion wherein we are walking, and the
blindness in which we are living.

6. A soul that has attained to this is not
limited to

the desires it has to serve God; for His Majesty gives it strength
to bring those desires to good effect. Nothing can be put before it
into which it will not throw itself, if only it thinks that God may be
served thereby: and yet it is doing nothing, because, as I said
before,[297] it sees clearly that all is
nothing, except pleasing God. The trial is, that those who are so
worthless as I am, have no trial of the kind. May it be Thy good
pleasure, O my God, that the time may come in which I may be able to
pay one farthing at least, of the heavy debt I owe Thee! Do Thou, O
Lord, so dispose matters according to Thy will, that this Thy servant
may do Thee some service. Other women there have been who did heroic
deeds for Thee; I am good only to talk; and so it has not been Thy
pleasure, O my God, that I should do any thing: all ends in talk and
desiresâ€”that is all my service. And yet even in this I am not free,
because it is possible I might fail altogether.

7. Strengthen Thou my soul, and prepare it, O
Good of all good; and, my Jesus, then ordain Thou the means whereby I
may do something for Thee, so that there may be not even one who can
bear to receive so much, and make no payment in return. Cost what it
may, O Lord, let me not come before Thee with hands so
empty,[298] seeing that the reward of every one
will be according to
his works.[299] Behold my
life, behold my good name and my will; I have given them all to Thee;
I am Thine: dispose of me according to Thy will. I see well enough, O
Lord, how little I can do; but now, having drawn near to Thee,â€”having
ascended to this watchtower, from which the truth may be seen,â€”and
while Thou departest not from me, I can do all things; but if Thou
departest from me, were it but for a moment, I shall go thither where
I was onceâ€”that is,
to hell.[300]

8. Oh, what it is for a soul in this state to
have to return to the commerce of the world, to see and look on the
farce of this life,[301] so ill-ordered; to
waste its time in attending to the body by sleeping and
eating![302] All is wearisome; it cannot run
away,â€”it sees itself chained and imprisoned; it feels then most
keenly the captivity into which the body has brought us, and the
wretchedness of this life. It understands the reason why St. Paul prayed to God to deliver him from
it.[303] The soul cries with the Apostle, and
calls upon God to deliver it, as I said on another
occasion.[304] But here it often cries with so
much violence, that it seems as if it would go out of the body in
search of its freedom, now that they do not take it away. It is as a
slave sold into a strange land; and what distresses it most is, that
it cannot find many who make the same complaint and the same prayer:
the desire of life is more common.

9. Oh, if we were utterly detached,â€”if we
never placed our happiness in anything of this world,â€”how the pain,
caused by living always away from God, would temper the fear of death
with the desire of enjoying the true life! Sometimes I consider, if a
person like myselfâ€”because our Lord has given this light to me, whose
love is so cold, and whose true rest is so uncertain, for I have not
deserved it by my worksâ€”frequently feels her banishment so much, what
the feelings of the Saints must have been. What must St. Paul and the Magdalene, and others like them,
have suffered, in whom the fire of the love of God has grown so
strong? Their life must have been a continual martyrdom. It seems to
me that they who bring me any comfort, and whose conversation is any
relief, are those persons in whom I find these desiresâ€”I mean,
desires with acts. I say with acts, for there are people who

think themselves detached, and who say so of themselves,â€”and it
must be so, for their vocation demands it, as well as the many years
that are passed since some of them began to walk in the way of
perfection,â€”but my soul distinguishes clearly, and afar off, between
those who are detached in words, and those who make good those words
by deeds. The little progress of the former, and the great progress
of the latter, make it plain. This is a matter which a person of any
experience can see into most clearly.

10. So far, then, of the effects of those
raptures which come from the Spirit of God. The truth is, that these
are greater or less. I say less, because in the beginning, though the
effects are wrought, they are not tested by works, and so it cannot be
clear that a person has them; and perfection, too, is a thing of
growth, and of labouring after freedom from the cobwebs of memory; and
this requires some time. Meanwhile, the greater the growth of love
and humility in the soul, the stronger the perfume of the flowers of
virtues is for itself and for others. The truth is, that our Lord can
so work in the soul in an instant during these raptures, that but
little remains for the soul to do in order to attain to perfection.
No one, who has not had experience of it, will ever be able to believe
what our Lord now bestows on the soul. No effort of oursâ€”so I
thinkâ€”can ever reach so far.

11. However, I do not mean to say that those
persons who during many years make use of the method prescribed by
writers on prayer,â€”who discuss the principles thereof, and the means
whereby it may be acquired,â€”will not, by the help of our Lord, attain
to perfection and great detachment with much labour; but they will not
attain to it so rapidly as by the way of raptures, in which our Lord
works independently of us, draws the soul utterly away from earth, and
gives it dominion over all things here below, though the merits of
that soul may not be greater than mine were:

I cannot use stronger language, for my merits are as nothing. Why
His Majesty doeth this is, because it is His pleasure, and He doeth it
according to His pleasure; even if the soul be without the fitting
disposition, He disposes it for the reception of that blessing which
He is giving to it. Although it be most certain that He never fails
to comfort those who do well, and strive to be detached, still He does
not always give these effects because they have deserved them at His
hands by cultivating the garden, but because it is His will to show
His greatness at times in a soil which is most worthless, as I have
just said, and to prepare it for all good: and all this in such a way
that it seems as if the soul was now, in a manner, unable to go back
and live in sin against God, as it did before.

12. The mind is now so inured to the
comprehension of that which is truth indeed, that everything else
seems to it to be but child's play. It laughs to itself, at times,
when it sees grave menâ€”men given to prayer, men of religionâ€”make
much of points of honour, which itself is trampling beneath its feet.
They say that discretion, and the dignity of their callings, require
it of them as a means to do more good; but that soul knows perfectly
well that they would do more good in one day by preferring the love of
God to this their dignity, than they will do in ten years by
considering it.

13. The life of this soul is a life of
trouble: the cross is always there, but the progress it makes is
great. When those who have to do with it think it has arrived at the
summit of perfection, within a little while they see it much more
advanced; for God is ever giving it grace upon grace. God is the soul
of that soul now; it is He who has the charge of it; and so He
enlightens it; for He seems to be watching over it, always attentive
to it, that it may not offend Him,â€”giving it grace, and stirring it
up in His service. When my soul reached this state, in which God
showed me mercy so great, my wretchedness came to an end, and
our Lord

gave me strength to rise above it. The former occasions of sin, as
well as the persons with whom I was accustomed to distract myself, did
me no more harm than if they had never existed; on the contrary, that
which ordinarily did me harm, helped me on. Everything contributed to
make me know God more, and to love Him; to make me see how much I owed
Him, as well as to be sorry for being what I had been.

14. I saw clearly that this did not come from
myself, that I had not brought it about by any efforts of my own, and
that there was not time enough for it. His Majesty, of His mere
goodness, had given me strength for it. From the time our Lord began
to give me the grace of raptures, until now, this strength has gone on
increasing. He, of His goodness, hath held me by the hand, that I
might not go back. I do not think that I am doing anything
myselfâ€”certainly I do not; for I see distinctly that all this is the
work of our Lord. For this reason, it seems to me that the soul in
which our Lord worketh these graces,â€”if it walks in humility and
fear, always acknowledging the work of our Lord, and that we ourselves
can do, as it were, nothing,â€”may be thrown among any companions, and,
however distracted and wicked these may be, will neither be hurt nor
disturbed in any way; on the contrary, as I have just said, that will
help it on, and be a means unto it whereby it may derive much
greater profit.

15. Those souls are strong which are chosen by
our Lord to do good to others; still, this their strength is not their
own. When our Lord brings a soul on to this state, He communicates to
it of His greatest secrets by degrees. True revelationsâ€”the great
gifts and visionsâ€”come by ecstasies, all tending to make the soul
humble and strong, to make it despise the things of this world, and
have a clearer knowledge of the greatness of the reward which our Lord
has prepared for those who
serve Him.[305]

16. May it please His Majesty that the great
munificence with which He hath dealt with me, miserable sinner that I
am, may have some weight with those who shall read this, so that they
may be strong and courageous enough to give up everything utterly for
God. If His Majesty repays us so abundantly, that even in this life
the reward and gain of those who serve Him become visible, what will
it be in the next?

The Life

Chapter XXII

The Security of Contemplatives Lies in Their Not Ascending to
High Things if Our Lord Does Not Raise Them. The Sacred Humanity Must
Be the Road to the Highest Contemplation. A Delusion in Which the
Saint Was Once Entangled.

There is one thing I should like to sayâ€”I
think it important: and if you, my father, approve, it will serve for
a lesson that possibly may be necessary; for in some books on prayer
the writers say that the soul, though it cannot in its own strength
attain to this state,â€”because it is altogether a supernatural work
wrought in it by our Lord,â€”may nevertheless succeed, by lifting up
the spirit above all created things, and raising it upwards in
humility, after some years spent in a purgative life, and advancing in
the illuminative. I do not very well know what they mean by
illuminative: I understand it to mean the life of those who are making
progress. And they advise us much to withdraw from all bodily
imagination, and draw near to the contemplation of the Divinity; for
they say that those who have advanced so far would be embarrassed or
hindered in their way to the highest contemplation, if they regarded
even the Sacred
Humanity itself.[306] They

defend their opinion[307] by bringing forward
the words[308] of our Lord to the Apostles,
concerning the coming of the Holy Ghost; I mean that Coming which was
after the Ascension. If the Apostles had believed, as they believed
after the Coming of the Holy Ghost, that He is both God and Man, His
bodily Presence would, in my opinion, have been no hindrance; for
those words were not said to the Mother of God, though she loved Him
more than all.[309] They think that, as this
work of contemplation is wholly spiritual, any bodily object whatever
can disturb or hinder it. They say that the contemplative should
regard himself as being within a definite space, God everywhere
around, and himself absorbed in Him. This is what we should
aim at.

2. This seems to me right enough now and then;
but to withdraw altogether from Christ, and to compare His divine Body
with our miseries or with any created thing whatever, is what I cannot
endure. May God help me to explain myself! I am not contradicting
them on this point, for they are learned and spiritual persons,
understanding what they say: God, too, is guiding souls by many ways
and methods, as He has guided mine. It is of my own soul that I wish
to speak now,â€”I do not intermeddle with others,â€”and of the danger I
was in because I would comply with the directions I was reading. I
can well believe that he who has attained to union, and advances no
further,â€”that is, to raptures, visions, and other graces of God given
to souls,â€”will consider that opinion to be best, as I did myself: and
if I had continued in it, I

believe I should never have reached the state I am in now. I hold
it to be a delusion: still, it may be that it is I who am deluded.
But I will tell you what happened to me.

3. As I had no director, I used to read these
books, where, by little and little, I thought I might understand
something. I found out afterwards that, if our Lord had not shown me
the way, I should have learned but little from books; for I understood
really nothing till His Majesty made me learn by experience: neither
did I know what I was doing. So, in the beginning, when I attained to
some degree of supernatural prayer,â€”I speak of the prayer of
quiet,â€”I laboured to remove from myself every thought of bodily
objects; but I did not dare to lift up my soul, for that I saw would
be presumption in me, who was always so wicked. I thought, however,
that I had a sense of the presence of God: this was true, and I
contrived to be in a state of recollection before Him. This method of
prayer is full of sweetness, if God helps us in it, and the joy of it
is great. And so, because I was conscious of the profit and delight
which this way furnished me, no one could have brought me back to the
contemplation of the Sacred Humanity; for that seemed to me to be a
real hindrance to prayer.

4. O Lord of my soul, and my Good! Jesus
Christ crucified! I never think of this opinion, which I then held,
without pain; I believe it was an act of high treason, though done in
ignorance. Hitherto, I had been all my life long so devout to the
Sacred Humanityâ€”for this happened but lately; I mean by lately, that
it was before our Lord gave me the grace of raptures and visions. I
did not continue long of
this opinion,[310] and
so I returned to my habit of delighting in our Lord, particularly at
Communion. I wish I could have His picture and image always before my
eyes, since I

cannot have Him graven in my soul as deeply as I wish.

5. Is it possible, O my Lord, that I could have
had the thought, if only for an hour, that Thou couldst be a hindrance
to my greatest good? Whence are all my blessings? are they not from
Thee? I will not think that I was blamable, for I was very sorry for
it, and it was certainly done in ignorance. And so it pleased Thee,
in Thy goodness, to succour me, by sending me one who has delivered me
from this delusion; and afterwards by showing Thyself to me so many
times, as I shall
relate hereafter,[311] that I
might clearly perceive how great my delusion was, and also tell it to
many persons; which I have done, as well as describe it as I am doing
now. I believe myself that this is the reason why so many souls,
after advancing to the prayer of union, make no further progress, and
do not attain to very great liberty of spirit.

6. It seems to me, that there are two
considerations on which I may ground this opinion. Perhaps I am
saying nothing to the purpose, yet what I say is the result of
experience; for my soul was in a very evil plight, till our Lord
enlightened it: all its joys were but sips; and when it had come forth
therefrom, it never found itself in that company which afterwards it
had in trials and temptations.

7. The first consideration is this: there is a
little absence of humilityâ€”so secret and so hidden, that we do not
observe it. Who is there so proud and wretched as I, that, even after
labouring all his life in penances and prayers and persecutions, can
possibly imagine himself not to be exceedingly rich, most abundantly
rewarded, when our Lord permits him to stand with St. John at the foot of the cross? I know not
into whose head it could have entered to be not satisfied with this,
unless it be mine, which has gone wrong in every way where it should
have gone right onwards.

8. Then, if our constitutionâ€”or perhaps
sicknessâ€”will not permit us always to think of His Passion, because
it is so painful, who is to hinder us from thinking of Him risen from
the grave, seeing that we have Him so near us in the Sacrament, where
he is glorified, and where we shall not see Him in His great
wearinessâ€”scourged, streaming with blood, faint by the way,
persecuted by those to whom He had done good, and not believed in by
the Apostles? Certainly it is not always that one can bear to
meditate on sufferings so great as were those He underwent. Behold
Him here, before His ascension into heaven, without pain,
all-glorious, giving strength to some and courage to others. In the
most Holy Sacrament, He is our companion, as if it was not in His
power to withdraw Himself for a moment from us. And yet it was in my
power to withdraw from Thee, O my Lord, that I might serve Thee
better! It may be that I knew Thee not when I sinned against Thee;
but how could I, having once known Thee, ever think I should gain more
in this way? O Lord, what an evil way I took! and I was going out of
the way, if Thou hadst not brought me back to it. When I see Thee
near me, I see all good things together. No trial befalls me that is
not easy to bear, when I think of Thee standing before those who
judged Thee.

9. With so good a Friend and Captain ever
present, Himself the first to suffer, everything can be borne. He
helps, He strengthens, He never fails, He is the true Friend. I see
clearly, and since then have always seen, that if we are to please
God, and if He is to give us His great graces, everything must pass
through the hands of His most Sacred Humanity, in whom His Majesty
said that He is
well pleased.[312] I know this
by repeated experience: our Lord has told it me. I have seen clearly
that this is the door[313] by which we
are to

enter, if we would have His supreme Majesty reveal to us His
great secrets.

10. So, then, I would have your reverence seek
no other way, even if you were arrived at the highest contemplation.
This way is safe. Our Lord is He by whom all good things come to us;
He will teach you. Consider His life; that is the best example. What
more can we want than so good a Friend at our side, who will not
forsake us when we are in trouble and distress, as they do who belong
to this world! Blessed is he who truly loves Him, and who always has
Him near him! Let us consider the glorious St. Paul, who seems as if Jesus was never absent
from his lips, as if he had Him deep down in his heart. After I had
heard this of some great Saints given to contemplation, I considered
the matter carefully; and I see that they walked in no other way.
St. Francis with the stigmata proves it,
St. Antony of Padua with the Infant Jesus;
St. Bernard rejoiced in the Sacred
Humanity; so did St. Catherine of Siena,
and many others, as your reverence knows better than I do.

11. This withdrawing from bodily objects must
no doubt be good, seeing that it is recommended by persons who are so
spiritual; but, in my opinion, it ought to be done only when the soul
has made very great progress; for until then it is clear that the
Creator must be sought for through His creatures. All this depends on
the grace which our Lord distributes to every soul. I do not
intermeddle here. What I would say is, that the most Sacred Humanity
of Christ is not to be counted among the objects from which we have to
withdraw. Let this be clearly understood. I wish I knew how to
explain it.[314]

12. When God suspends all the powers of the
soul,â€”as we see He does in the states of prayer already
described,â€”it is clear that, whether we wish it or not, this presence
is withdrawn. Be it so, then. The loss

is a blessed one, because it takes place in order that we may have
a deeper fruition of what we seem to have lost; for at that moment the
whole soul is occupied in loving Him whom the understanding has toiled
to know; and it loves what it has not comprehended, and rejoices in
what it could not have rejoiced in so well, if it had not lost itself,
in order, as I am saying, to gain itself the more. But that we should
carefully and laboriously accustom ourselves not to strive with all
our might to have alwaysâ€”and please God it be always!â€”the most
Sacred Humanity before our eyes,â€”this, I say, is what seems to me not
to be right: it is making the soul, as they say, to walk in the air;
for it has nothing to rest on, how full soever of God it may think
itself to be.

13. It is a great matter for us to have our
Lord before us as Man while we are living and in the flesh. This is
that other inconvenience which I say must be met with. The firstâ€”I
have already begun to describe itâ€”is a little failure in humility, in
that the soul desires to rise of itself before our Lord raises it, and
is not satisfied with meditation on so excellent a subject,â€”seeking
to be Mary before it has laboured with Martha. If our Lord will have
a soul to be Mary, even on the first day, there is nothing to be
afraid of; but we must not be self-invited guests, as I think I said
on another occasion.[315] This little mote of
want of humility, though in appearance a mere nothing, does a great
deal of harm to those who wish to advance in contemplation.

14. I now come back to the second
consideration. We are not angels, for we have a body; to seek to make
ourselves angels while we are on the earth, and so much on the earth
as I was, is an act of folly. In general, our thoughts must have
something to rest on, though the soul may go forth out of itself now
and then, or it may be very often so full of God as to be in

need of no created thing by the help of which it may recollect
itself. But this is not so common a case; for when we have many
things to do, when we are persecuted and in trouble, when we cannot
have much rest, and when we have our seasons of dryness, Christ is our
best Friend; for we regard Him as Man, and behold Him faint and in
trouble, and He is our Companion; and when we shall have accustomed
ourselves in this way, it is very easy to find Him near us, although
there will be occasions from time to time when we can do neither the
one nor the other.

15. For this end, that is useful which I spoke
of before:[316] we must not show ourselves as
labouring after spiritual consolations; come what may, to embrace the
cross is the great thing. The Lord of all consolation was Himself
forsaken: they left Him alone in His sorrows. Do not let us forsake
Him; for His hand will help us to rise more than any efforts we can
make; and He will withdraw Himself when He sees it be expedient for
us, and when He pleaseth will also draw the soul forth out of itself,
as I said before.[317]

16. God is greatly pleased when He beholds a
soul in its humility making His Son a Mediator between itself and Him,
and yet loving Him so much as to confess its own unworthiness, even
when He would raise it up to the highest contemplation, and saying
with St. Peter:[318] "Go
Thou away from me, O Lord, for I am a sinful man." I know this by
experience: it was thus that God directed my soul. Others may walk,
as I said before,[319] by another and a
shorter road. What I have understood of the matter is this: that the
whole foundation of prayer must be laid in humility, and that the more
a soul humbles itself in prayer, the more God lifts it up. I do not
remember that He ever showed me any of those marvellous mercies, of
which I shall
speak hereafter,[320] at any
other time than when

I was as one brought
to nothing,[321] by
seeing how wicked I was. Moreover, His Majesty contrived to make me
understand matters that helped me to know myself, but which I could
never have even imagined of myself.

17. I believe myself that if a soul makes any
efforts of its own to further itself in the way of the prayer of
union, and though it may seem to make immediate progress, it will
quickly fall back, because the foundations were not duly laid. I
fear, too, that such a soul will never attain to true poverty of
spirit, which consists in seeking consolation or sweetness, not in
prayer,â€”the consolations of the earth are already abandoned,â€”but
rather in sorrows, for the love of Him who always lived in sorrows
Himself;[322] and in being calm in the midst
of sorrows and aridities. Though the soul may feel it in some
measure, there is no disquiet, nor any of that pain which some persons
suffer, who, if they are not always labouring with the understanding
and with a sense of devotion, think everything lost,â€”as if their
efforts merited so great a blessing!

18. I am not saying that men should not seek
to be devout, nor that they should not stand with great reverence in
the presence of God, but only that they are not to vex themselves if
they cannot find even one good thought, as I said in another
place;[323] for we are unprofitable
servants.[324] What do we think we can do?
Our Lord grant that we understand this, and that we may be those
little asses who drive the windlass I spoke
of:[325] these, though their eyes are
bandaged, and they do not understand what they are doing, yet draw up
more water than the gardener can draw with all his efforts. We must
walk in liberty on this road, committing ourselves into the hands of
God. If it be His Majesty's good pleasure to raise us and
place us

among His chamberlains and secret councillors, we must go
willingly; if not, we must serve Him in the lower offices of His
house, and not sit down on the upper
seats.[326] As I have sometimes
said,[327] God is more careful of us than we
are ourselves, and knows what each one of us is fit for.

19. What use is there in governing oneself by
oneself, when the whole will has been given up to God? I think this
less endurable now than in the first state of prayer, and it does much
greater harm; for these blessings are supernatural. If a man has a
bad voice, let him force himself ever so much to sing, he will never
improve it; but if God gives him a good voice, he has no need to try
it twice. Let us, then, pray Him always to show His mercy upon us,
with a submissive spirit, yet trusting in the goodness of God. And
now that the soul is permitted to sit at the feet of Christ, let it
contrive not to quit its place, but keep it anyhow. Let it follow the
example of the Magdalene; and when it shall be strong enough, God will
lead it into
the wilderness.[328]

20. You, then, my father, must be content with
this until you meet with some one of more experience and better
knowledge than I am. If you see people who are beginning to taste of
God, do not trust them if they think that they advance more, and have
a deeper fruition of God, when they make efforts of their own. Oh,
when God wills it, how He discovers Himself without these little
efforts of ours! We may do what we like, but He throws the spirit
into a trance as easily as a giant takes up a straw; no resistance is
possible. What a thing to believe, that God will wait till the toad
shall fly of itself, when He has already willed it should do so!
Well, it seems to me still more difficult and hard for our spirit to
rise upwards, if God does not

raise it, seeing that it is burdened with earth, and hindered in a
thousand ways. Its willingness to rise is of no service to it; for,
though an aptness for flying be more natural to it than to a toad, yet
is it so sunk in the mire as to have lost it by its own fault.

21. I come, then, to this conclusion: whenever
we think of Christ, we should remind ourselves of the love that made
Him bestow so many graces upon us, and also how great that love is
which our Lord God has shown us, in giving us such a pledge of the
love He bears us; for love draws forth love. And though we are only
at the very beginning, and exceedingly wicked, yet let us always
labour to keep this in view, and stir ourselves up to love; for if
once our Lord grants us this grace, of having this love imprinted in
our hearts, everything will be easy, and we shall do great things in a
very short time, and with very little labour. May His Majesty give us
that love,â€”He knows the great need we have of it,â€”for the sake of
that love which He bore us, and of His glorious Son, to whom it cost
so much to make it known to us! Amen.

22. There is one thing I should like to ask
you, my father. How is it that, when our Lord begins to bestow upon a
soul a grace so great as this of perfect contemplation, it is not, as
it ought to be, perfect at once? Certainly, it seems it should be so;
for he who receives a grace so great ought never more to seek
consolations on earth. How is it, I ask, that a soul which has
ecstasies and so far is more accustomed to receive graces, should yet
seem to bring forth fruits still higher and higher,â€”and the more so,
the more it is detached,â€”when our Lord might have sanctified it at
once, the moment He came near it? How is it, I ask again, that the
same Lord brings it to the perfection of virtue only in the course of
time? I should be glad to learn the reason, for I know it not. I do
know, however, that in the beginning, when a trance lasts only the
twinkling of an eye, and is almost imperceptible but for
the effects

it produces, the degree of strength which God then gives is very
different from that which He gives when this grace is a trance of
longer duration.

23. Very often, when thinking of this, have I
imagined the reason might be, that the soul does not despise itself
all at once, till our Lord instructs it by degrees, and makes it
resolute, and gives it the strength of manhood, so that it may trample
utterly upon everything. He gave this strength to the Magdalene in a
moment. He gives the same grace to others, according to the measure
of their abandonment of themselves into the hands of His Majesty, that
He may do with them as He will. We never thoroughly believe that God
rewards a hundredfold even in
this life.[329]

24. I also thought of this comparison:
supposing grace given to those who are far advanced to be the same
with that given to those who are but beginners, we may then liken it
to a certain food of which many persons partake: they who eat a little
retain the savour of it for a moment, they who eat more are nourished
by it, but those who eat much receive life and strength. Now, the
soul may eat so frequently and so abundantly of this food of life as
to have no pleasure in eating any other food, because it sees how much
good it derives from it. Its taste is now so formed upon it, that it
would rather not live than have to eat any other food; for all food
but this has no other effect than to take away the sweet savour which
this good food leaves behind.

25. Further, the conversation of good people
does not profit us in one day as much as it does in many; and we may
converse with them long enough to become like them, by the grace of
God. In short, the whole matter is as His Majesty wills. He gives
His grace to whom He pleases; but much depends on this: he who begins
to receive this grace must make a firm resolution to detach himself
from all things, and esteem this grace according to reason.

26. It seems also to me as if His Majesty were
going about to try those who love Him,â€”now one, now
another,â€”revealing Himself in supreme joy, so as to quicken our
belief, if it should be dead, in what He will give us, saying, Behold!
this is but a drop of the immense sea of blessings; for He leaves
nothing undone for those He loves; and as He sees them receive it, so
He gives, and He gives Himself. He loves those who love Him. Oh, how
dear He is!â€”how good a Friend! O my soul's Lord, who can find words
to describe what Thou givest to those who trust in Thee, and what they
lose who come to this state, and yet dwell in themselves! Oh, let not
this be so, O my Lord! for Thou doest more than this when Thou comest
to a lodging so mean as mine. Blessed be Thou for ever and ever!

27. I now humbly ask you, my father, if you
mean to discuss what I have written on prayer with spiritual persons,
to see that they are so really; for if they be persons who know only
one way, or who have stood still midway, they will not be able to
understand the matter. There are also some whom God leads at once by
the highest way; these think that others might advance in the same
mannerâ€”quiet the understanding, and make bodily objects none of their
means; but these people will remain dry as a stick. Others, also,
there are who, having for a moment attained to the prayer of quiet,
think forthwith that, as they have had the one, so they may have the
other. These instead of advancing, go back, as I said
before.[330] So, throughout, experience and
discretion are necessary. May our Lord, of His goodness, bestow them
on us!

The Life

Chapter XXIII

The Saint Resumes the History of Her Life. Aiming at
Perfection. Means Whereby It May Be Gained. Instructions
for Confessors.

I shall now return to that point in my life
where I broke off,[331] having made, I believe,
a longer digression than I need have made, in order that what is still
to come may be more clearly understood. Henceforth, it is another and
a new book,â€”I mean, another and a new life. Hitherto, my life was my
own; my life, since I began to explain these methods of prayer, is the
life which God lived in me,â€”so it seems to me; for I feel it to be
impossible that I should have escaped in so short a time from ways and
works that were so wicked. May our Lord be praised, who has delivered
me from myself!

2. When, then, I began to avoid the occasions
of sin, and to give myself more unto prayer, our Lord also began to
bestow His graces upon me, as one who desired, so it seemed, that I
too should be willing to receive them. His Majesty began to give me
most frequently the grace of the prayer of quiet, and very often that
of union, which lasted some time. But as, in these days, women have
fallen into great delusions and deceits of
Satan,[332] I began to be afraid, because the
joy and sweetness which I felt were so great, and very often beyond my
power to avoid. On the other hand, I felt in myself a very deep
conviction that God was with me, especially when I was in prayer. I
saw, too, that I grew better and stronger thereby.

3. But if I was a little distracted, I began to
be afraid, and to imagine that perhaps it was Satan that

suspended my understanding, making me think it to be good, in order
to withdraw me from mental prayer, hinder my meditation on the
Passion, and debar me the use of my understanding: this seemed to me,
who did not comprehend the matter, to be a grievous loss but, as His
Majesty was pleased to give me light to offend Him no more, and to
understand how much I owed Him, this fear so grew upon me, that it
made me seek diligently for spiritual persons with whom I might treat
of my state. I had already heard of some; for the Fathers of the
Society of Jesus had
come hither;[333] and I,
though I knew none of them, was greatly attracted by them, merely
because I had heard of their way of life and of prayer; but I did not
think myself fit to speak to them, or strong enough to obey them; and
this made me still more afraid; for to converse with them, and remain
what I was, seemed to me somewhat rude.

4. I spent some time in this state, till, after
much inward contention and fear, I determined to confer with some
spiritual person, to ask him to tell me what that method of prayer was
which I was using, and to show me whether I was in error. I was also
resolved to do everything I could not to offend God; for the want of
courage of which I was conscious, as I said
before,[334] made me so timid. Was there ever
delusion so great as mine, O my God, when I withdrew from good in
order to become good! The devil must lay much stress on this in the
beginning of a course of virtue; for I could not overcome my
repugnance. He knows that the whole relief of the soul consists in
conferring with the friends of God. Hence it was that no time was
fixed in which I should resolve to do this. I waited to grow better
first, as I did before when I ceased to
pray,[335]â€”and perhaps I never should have
become better; for I had now sunk so deeply into the

petty ways of an evil habit,â€”I could not convince myself that they
were wrong,â€”that I needed the help of others, who should hold out a
hand to raise me up. Blessed be Thou, O Lord!â€”for the first hand
outstretched to me was Thine.

5. When I saw that my fear was going so far, it
struck meâ€”because I was making progress in prayerâ€”that this must be
a great blessing, or a very great evil; for I understood perfectly
that what had happened was something supernatural, because at times I
was unable to withstand it; to have it when I would was also
impossible. I thought to myself that there was no help for it, but in
keeping my conscience pure, avoiding every occasion even of venial
sins; for if it was the work of the Spirit of God, the gain was clear;
and if the work of Satan, so long as I strove to please, and did not
offend, our Lord, Satan could do me little harm; on the contrary, he
must lose in the struggle. Determined on this course, and always
praying God to help me, striving also after purity of conscience for
some days, I saw that my soul had not strength to go forth alone to a
perfection so great. I had certain attachments to trifles, which,
though not very wrong in themselves, were yet enough to ruin all.

6. I was told of a learned
ecclesiastic,[336] dwelling in this city, whose
goodness and pious life our Lord was beginning to make known to the
world. I contrived to make his acquaintance through a saintly
nobleman[337] living in the same place. This
latter is a married man; but his life is so edifying and virtuous, so
given to

prayer, and so full of charity, that the goodness and perfection of
it shine forth in all he does: and most justly so; for many souls have
been greatly blessed through him, because of his great gifts, which,
though his condition of a layman be a hindrance to him, never lie
idle. He is a man of great sense, and very gentle with all people;
his conversation is never wearisome, but so sweet and gracious, as
well as upright and holy, that he pleases everybody very much with
whom he has any relations. He directs it all to the great good of
those souls with whom he converses and he seems to have no other end
in view but to do all he may be permitted to do for all men, and make
them content.

7. This blessed and holy man, then, seems to
me, by the pains he took, to have been the beginning of salvation to
my soul. His humility in his relations with me makes me wonder; for
he had spent, I believe, nearly forty years in prayer,â€”it may be two
or three years less,â€”and all his life was ordered with that
perfection which his state admitted. His wife is so great a servant
of God, and so full of charity, that nothing is lost to him on her
account,[338]â€”in short, she was the chosen wife
of one who God knew would serve Him so well. Some of their kindred
are married to some of mine. Besides, I had also much communication
with another great servant of God, married to one of my
first cousins.

8. It was thus I contrived that the
ecclesiastic I speak of, who was so great a servant of God, and his
great friend, should come to speak to me, intending to confess to him,
and to take him for my director. When he had brought him to speak to
me, I, in the greatest confusion at finding myself in the presence of
so holy a man, revealed to him the state of my soul, and my way of
prayer. He would not be my confessor; he said that he was very much
occupied: and so, indeed, he

was. He began with a holy resolution to direct me as if I was
strong,â€”I ought to have been strong, according to the method of
prayer which he saw I used,â€”so that I should in nothing offend God.
When I saw that he was resolved to make me break off at once with the
petty ways I spoke
of before,[339] and that I
had not the courage to go forth at once in the perfection he required
of me, I was distressed; and when I perceived that he ordered the
affairs of my soul as if I ought to be perfect at once, I saw that
much more care was necessary in my case. In a word, I felt that the
means he would have employed were not those by which my soul could be
helped onwards; for they were fitted for a soul more perfect than
mine; and though the graces I had received from God were very many, I
was still at the very beginning in the matter of virtue and
of mortification.

9. I believe certainly, if I had only had this
ecclesiastic to confer with, that my soul would have made no progress;
for the pain it gave me to see that I was not doingâ€”and, as I
thought, could not doâ€”what he told me, was enough to destroy all
hope, and make me abandon the matter altogether. I wonder at times
how it was that he, being one who had a particular grace for the
direction of beginners in the way of God, was not permitted to
understand my case, or to undertake the care of my soul. I see it was
all for my greater good, in order that I might know and converse with
persons so holy as the members of the Society of Jesus.

10. After this, I arranged with that saintly
nobleman that he should come and see me now and then. It shows how
deep his humility was; for he consented to converse with a person so
wicked as I was. He began his visits, he encouraged me, and told me
that I ought not to suppose I could give up everything in one day; God
would bring it about by degrees: he himself had for some years been
unable to free himself from some

very slight imperfections. O humility! what great blessings thou
bringest to those in whom thou dwellest, and to them who draw near to
those who possess thee! This holy manâ€”for I think I may justly call
him soâ€”told me of weaknesses of his own, in order to help me. He, in
his humility, thought them weaknesses; but, if we consider his state,
they were neither faults nor imperfections; yet, in my state, it was a
very great fault to be subject to them.

11. I am not saying this without a meaning,
though I seem to be enlarging on trifles; but these trifles contribute
so much towards the beginning of the soul's progress and its flight
upwards, though it has no wings, as they say; and yet no one will
believe it who has not had experience of it; but, as I hope in God
that your reverence will help many a soul, I speak of it here. My
whole salvation depended on his knowing how to treat me, on his
humility, on the charity with which he conversed with me, and on his
patient endurance of me when he saw that I did not mend my ways at
once. He went on discreetly, by degrees showing me how to overcome
Satan. My affection for him so grew upon me, that I never was more at
ease than on the day I used to see him. I saw him, however, very
rarely. When he was long in coming, I used to be very much
distressed, thinking that he would not see me because I was
so wicked.

12. When he found out my great imperfections,
they might well have been sins, though since I conversed with him I am
somewhat improved,â€”and when I recounted to him, in order to obtain
light from him, the great graces which God had bestowed upon me, he
told me that these things were inconsistent one with another; that
these consolations were given to people who had made great progress,
and led mortified lives; that he could not help being very much
afraidâ€”he thought that the evil spirit might have something to do in
my case; he would not decide that question,

however, but he would have me carefully consider my whole method of
prayer, and then tell him of it. That was the difficulty: I did not
understand it myself, and so I could tell him nothing of my prayer;
for the grace to understand itâ€”and, understanding it, to describe
itâ€”has only lately been given me of God. This saying of his,
together with the fear I was in, distressed me exceedingly, and I
cried; for certainly I was anxious to please God, and I could not
persuade myself that Satan had anything to do with it. But I was
afraid, on account of my great sins, that God might leave me blind, so
that I should understand nothing.

13. Looking into books to see if I could find
anything there by which I might recognise the prayer I practised, I
found in one of them, called the Ascent of the
Mount,[340] and in that part of it
which relates to the union of the soul with God, all those marks which
I had in myself, in that I could not think of anything. This is what
I most dwelt onâ€”that I could think of nothing when I was in prayer.
I marked that passage, and gave him the book, that he, and the
ecclesiastic
mentioned before,[341] saint and
servant of God, might consider it, and tell me what I should do. If
they thought it right, I would give up that method of prayer
altogether; for why should I expose myself to danger, when, at the end
of nearly twenty years, during which I had used it, I had gained
nothing, but had fallen into a delusion of the devil? It was better
for me to give it up. And yet this seemed to me hard; for I had
already discovered what my soul would become without prayer.
Everything seemed full of trouble. I was like a person in the middle
of a river, who, in whatever direction he may turn, fears a still
greater danger, and is well-nigh drowned. This is a very great trial,
and I have gone through many like it, as I shall show
hereafter;[342] and though it does not seem to
be of any

importance, it will perhaps be advantageous to understand how the
spirit is to be tried.

14. And certainly the affliction to be borne
is great, and caution is necessary, particularly in the case of
women,â€”for our weakness is great,â€”and much evil may be the result of
telling them very distinctly that the devil is busy with them; yea,
rather, the matter should be very carefully considered, and they
should be removed out of reach of the dangers that may arise. They
should be advised to keep things secret; and it is necessary, also,
that their secret should be kept. I am speaking of this as one to
whom it has been a sore trouble; for some of those with whom I spoke
of my prayer did not keep my secret, but, making inquiries one of
another, for a good purpose, did me much harm; for they made things
known which might well have remained secret, because not intended for
every one and it seemed as if I had made them
public myself.[343]

15. I believe that our Lord
permitted[344] this to be done without sin on
their part, in order that I might suffer. I do not say that they
revealed anything I discussed with them in confession; still, as they
were persons to whom, in my fears, I gave a full account of myself, in
order that they might give me light, I thought they ought to have been
silent. Nevertheless, I never dared to conceal anything from such
persons. My meaning, then, is, that women should be directed with
much discretion; their directors should encourage them, and bide the
time when our Lord will help them, as He has helped me. If He had
not, the greatest harm would have befallen me, for I was in great fear
and dread; and as I suffered from disease of the
heart,[345] I am astonished that all this did
not do me a great deal of harm.

16. Then, when I had given him the book, and
told the story of my life and of my sins, the best way I

could in general,â€”for I was not in confession, because he was a
layman; yet I gave him clearly to understand how wicked I was,â€”those
two servants of God, with great charity and affection, considered what
was best for me. When they had made up their minds what to say,â€”I
was waiting for it in great dread, having begged many persons to pray
to God for me, and I too had prayed much during those days,â€”the
nobleman came to me in great distress, and said that, in the opinion
of both, I was deluded by an evil spirit; that the best thing for me
to do was to apply to a certain father of the Society of Jesus, who
would come to me if I sent for him, saying I had need of him; that I
ought, in a general confession, to give him an account of my whole
life, and of the state I was in,â€”and all with great clearness: God
would, in virtue of the Sacrament of Confession, give him more light
concerning me; for those fathers were very experienced men in matters
of spirituality. Further, I was not to swerve in a single point from
the counsels of that father; for I was in great danger, if I had no
one to direct me.

17. This answer so alarmed and distressed me,
that I knew not what to doâ€”I did nothing but cry. Being in an
oratory in great affliction, not knowing what would become of me, I
read in a bookâ€”it seemed as if our Lord had put it into my
handsâ€”that St. Paul said, God is
faithful;[346] that He will never permit Satan
to deceive those who love Him. This gave me great consolation. I
began to prepare for my general confession, and to write out all the
evil and all the good: a history of my life, as clearly as I
understood it, and knew how to make it, omitting nothing whatever. I
remember, when I saw I had written so much evil, and scarcely anything
that was good, that I was exceedingly distressed and sorrowful. It
pained me, also, that the nuns of the community should see me
converse with

such holy persons as those of the Society of Jesus; for I was
afraid of my own wickedness, and I thought I should be obliged to
cease from it, and give up my amusements; and that if I did not do so,
I should grow worse: so I persuaded the sacristan and the portress to
tell no one of it. This was of little use, after all; for when I was
called down there was one at the door, as it happened, who told it to
the whole convent. But what difficulties and what terrors Satan
troubles them with who would draw near unto God!

18. I communicated the whole state of my soul
to that servant of God[347] and he was a great
servant of His, and very prudent. He understood all I told him,
explained it to me, and encouraged me greatly. He said that all was
very evidently the work of the Spirit of God; only it was necessary
for me to go back again to my prayer, because I was not well grounded,
and had not begun to understand what mortification meant,â€”that was
true, for I do not think I knew it even by name,â€”that I was by no
means to give up prayer; on the contrary, I was to do violence to
myself in order to practise it, because God had bestowed on me such
special graces as made it impossible to say whether it was, or was
not, the will of our Lord to do good to many through me. He went
further, for he seems to have prophesied of that which our Lord
afterwards did with me, and said that I should be very much to blame
if I did not correspond with the graces which God bestowed upon me.
It seems to me that the Holy Ghost was speaking by his mouth in order
to heal my soul, so deep was the impression he made. He made me very
much ashamed of myself, and directed me by a way which seemed to
change me altogether. What a grand thing it is to understand a soul!
He told me to make my prayer every day on some mystery of
the Passion,

and that I should profit by it, and to fix my thoughts on the
Sacred Humanity only, resisting to the utmost of my power those
recollections and delights, to which I was not to yield in any way
till he gave me further directions in the matter.

19. He left me consoled and fortified: our
Lord came to my succour and to his, so that he might understand the
state I was in, and how he was to direct me. I made a firm resolution
not to swerve from anything he might command me, and to this day I
have kept it. Our Lord be praised, who has given me grace to be
obedient to
my confessors,[348] however
imperfectly!â€”and they have almost always been those blessed men of
the Society of Jesus; though, as I said, I have but imperfectly obeyed
them. My soul began to improve visibly, as I am now going to say.

The Life

Chapter XXIV

Progress Under Obedience. Her Inability to Resist the Graces
of God. God Multiplies His Graces.

After this my confession, my soul was so
docile that, as it seems to me, there was nothing in the world I was
not prepared to undertake. I began at once to make a change in many
things, though my confessor never pressed meâ€”on the contrary, he
seemed to make light of it all. I was the more influenced by this,
because he led me on by the way of the love of God; he left me free,
and did not press me, unless I did so myself, out of love. I
continued thus nearly two months, doing all I could to resist the
sweetness and graces that God sent. As to my outward life, the change
was visible; for our Lord gave me courage to go

through with certain things, of which those who knew meâ€”and even
those in the communityâ€”said that they seemed to them extreme; and,
indeed, compared with what I had been accustomed to do, they were
extreme: people, therefore, had reason to say so. Yet, in those
things which were of obligation, considering the habit I wore, and the
profession I had made, I was still deficient. By resisting the
sweetness and joys which God sent me, I gained this, that His Majesty
taught me Himself; for, previously, I used to think that, in order to
obtain sweetness in prayer, it was necessary for me to hide myself in
secret places, and so I scarcely dared to stir. Afterwards, I saw how
little that was to the purpose; for the more I tried to distract
myself, the more our Lord poured over me that sweetness and joy which
seemed to me to be flowing around me, so that I could not in any way
escape from it: and so it was. I was so careful about this
resistance, that it was a pain to me. But our Lord was more careful
to show His mercies, and during those two months to reveal Himself
more than before, so that I might the better comprehend that it was no
longer in my power to resist Him.

2. I began with a renewed love of the most
Sacred Humanity; my prayer began to be solid, like a house, the
foundations of which are strong; and I was inclined to practise
greater penance, having been negligent in this matter hitherto because
of my great infirmities. The holy man who heard my confession told me
that certain penances would not hurt me, and that God perhaps sent me
so much sickness because I did no penance; His Majesty would therefore
impose it Himself. He ordered me to practise certain acts of
mortification not very pleasant
for me.[349] I
did so, because I felt that our Lord was enjoining it all, and giving
him grace to command me in such a way as to make me obedient
unto him.

3. My soul was now sensitive to every offence I
committed against God, however slight it might be; so much so, that if
I had any superfluity about me, I could not recollect myself in prayer
till I had got rid of it. I prayed earnestly that our Lord would hold
me by the hand, and not suffer me to fall again, now that I was under
the direction of His servants. I thought that would be a great evil,
and that they would lose their credit through me.

4. At this time, Father Francis, who was Duke
of Gandia,[350] came here; he had left all he
possessed some years before, and had entered the Society of Jesus. My
confessor, and the nobleman of whom I spoke
before,[351] contrived that he should visit me,
in order that I might speak to him, and give him an account of my way
of prayer; for they knew him to be greatly favoured and comforted of
God: he had given up much, and was rewarded for it even in this life.
When he had heard me, he said to me that it was the work of the Spirit
of God,[352] and that he thought it was not
right now to prolong that resistance; that hitherto it had been safe
enough,â€”only, I should always begin my prayer by meditating on some
part of the Passion and that if our Lord should then raise up my
spirit, I should make no resistance, but suffer His Majesty to raise
it upwards, I myself not seeking it. He gave both medicine and
advice, as one who had made great progress himself; for experience is
very important in these matters. He said that further resistance
would be a mistake. I was exceedingly consoled; so, too, was the
nobleman, who rejoiced greatly when he was told that it was the work
of God. He always helped me and gave me advice according to his
power,â€”and that power was great.

5. At this time, they changed my confessor's
residence. I felt it very much, for I thought I should go back to my
wickedness, and that it was not possible to find another such as he.
My soul was, as it were, in a desert, most sorrowful and afraid. I
knew not what to do with myself. One of my kinswomen contrived to get
me into her house, and I contrived at once to find another
confessor,[353] in the Society of Jesus. It
pleased our Lord that I should commence a friendship with a noble
lady,[354] a widow, much given to prayer, who
had much to do with the fathers. She made her own
confessor[355] hear me, and I remained in her
house some days. She lived near, and I delighted in the many
conferences I had with the fathers; for merely by observing the
holiness of their way of life, I felt that my soul
profited exceedingly.

6. This father began by putting me in the way
of greater perfection. He used to say to me, that I ought to leave
nothing undone that I might be wholly pleasing unto God. He was,
however, very prudent and very gentle at the same time; for my soul
was not at all strong, but rather very weak, especially as to giving
up certain friendships, though I did not offend God by them: there was
much natural affection in them, and I thought it would be an act of
ingratitude if I broke them off. And so, as I did not offend God, I
asked him if I must be ungrateful. He told me to lay the matter
before God for a few days, and recite the hymn, "Veni, Creator," that God might enlighten me
as to the better course. One day, having prayed for some time, and
implored our Lord to help me to please

Him in all things, I began the hymn; and as I was saying it, I fell
into a tranceâ€”so suddenly, that I was, as it were, carried out of
myself. I could have no doubt about it, for it was most plain.

7. This was the first time that our Lord
bestowed on me the grace of ecstasy. I heard these words: "I will
not have thee converse with men, but with angels." This made me
wonder very much; for the commotion of my spirit was great, and these
words were uttered in the very depth of my soul. They made me
afraid,â€”though, on the other hand, they gave me great comfort, which,
when I had lost the fear,â€”caused, I believe, by the strangeness of
the visitation,â€”remained with me.

8. Those words have been fulfilled; for I have
never been able to form friendship with, nor have any comfort in, nor
any particular love for, any persons whatever except those who, as I
believe, love God, and who strive to serve Him. It has not been in my
power to do it. It is nothing to me that they are my kindred, or my
friends, if I do not know them to be lovers of God, or persons given
to prayer. It is to me a painful cross to converse with any one.
This is the truth, so far as I
can judge.[356]
From that day forth, I have had courage so great as to leave all
things for God, who in one momentâ€”and it seems to me but a
momentâ€”was pleased to change His servant into another person.
Accordingly, there was no necessity for laying further commands upon
me in this matter. When my confessor saw how much I clung to these
friendships, he did not venture to bid me distinctly to give them up.
He must have waited till our Lord did the workâ€”as He did Himself.
Nor did I think myself that I could succeed; for I had tried before,
and the pain it gave me was so great that I abandoned the attempt, on
the ground that there was nothing unseemly in those attachments. Now
our Lord set me at liberty, and gave me strength also to use it.

9. So I told my confessor of it, and gave up
everything, according to his advice. It did a great deal of good to
those with whom I used to converse, to see my determination. God be
blessed for ever! Who in one moment set me free, while I had been for
many years making many efforts, and had never succeeded, very often
also doing such violence to myself as injured my health; but, as it
was done by Him Who is almighty, and the true Lord of all, it gave me
no pain whatever.

The Life

Chapter XXV

Divine Locutions. Discussions on That Subject.

It will be as well, I think, to explain
these locutions of God, and to describe what the soul feels when it
receives them, in order that you, my father, may understand the
matter; for ever since that time of which I am speaking, when our Lord
granted me that grace, it has been an ordinary occurrence until now,
as will appear by what I have yet
to say.[357]

2. The words are very distinctly formed; but by
the bodily ear they are not heard. They are, however, much more
clearly understood than they would be if they were heard by the ear.
It is impossible not to understand them, whatever resistance we
may offer. When we wish not to hear anything in this world, we

can stop our ears, or give attention to something else: so that,
even if we do hear, at least we can refuse to understand. In this
locution of God addressed to the soul there is no escape, for in spite
of ourselves we must listen; and the understanding must apply itself
so thoroughly to the comprehension of that which God wills we should
hear, that it is nothing to the purpose whether we will it or not; for
it is His will, Who can do all things. We should understand that His
will must be done; and He reveals Himself as our true Lord, having
dominion over us. I know this by much experience; for my resistance
lasted nearly two years,[358] because of the
great fear I was in: and even now I resist occasionally; but it is of
no use.

3. I should like to explain the delusions which
may happen here, though he who has had much experience will run little
or no risk, I think; but the experience must be great. I should like
to explain also how those locutions which come from the Good Spirit
differ from those which come from an evil spirit; and, further, how
they may be but an apprehension of the understanding,â€”for that is
possible,â€”or even words which the mind addressed to itself. I do not
know if it be so but even this very day I thought it possible. I know
by experience in many ways, when these locutions come from God. I
have been told things two or three years beforehand, which have all
come to pass; and in none of them have I been hitherto deceived.
There are also other things in which the Spirit of God may be clearly
traced, as I shall relate by
and by.[359]

4. It seems to me that a person commending a
matter to God with great love and earnestness may think that he hears
in some way or other whether his prayer will be granted or not, and
this is quite possible; but he who has heard the divine locution will
see clearly enough what this is, because there is a great

difference between the two. If it be anything which the
understanding has fashioned, however cunningly it may have done so, he
sees that it is the understanding which has arranged that locution,
and that it is speaking of itself. This is nothing else but a word
uttered by one, and listened to by another: in that case, the
understanding will see that it has not been listening only, but also
forming the words; and the words it forms are something indistinct,
fantastic, and not clear like the divine locutions. It is in our
power to turn away our attention from these locutions of our own, just
as we can be silent when we are speaking; but, with respect to the
former, that cannot be done.

5. There is another test more decisive still.
The words formed by the understanding effect nothing; but, when our
Lord speaks, it is at once word and work; and though the words may not
be meant to stir up our devotion, but are rather words of reproof,
they dispose a soul at once, strengthen it, make it tender, give it
light, console and calm it; and if it should be in dryness, or in
trouble and uneasiness, all is removed, as if by the action of a hand,
and even better; for it seems as if our Lord would have the soul
understand that He is all-powerful, and that His words are deeds.

6. It seems to me that there is as much
difference between these two locutions as there is between speaking
and listening, neither more nor less; for when I speak, as I have just
said,[360] I go on with my understanding
arranging what I am saying; but if I am spoken to by others, I do
nothing else but listen, without any labour. The human locution is as
something which we cannot well make out, as if we were half asleep;
but the divine locution is a voice so clear that not a syllable of its
utterance is lost. It may occur, too, when the understanding and the
soul are so troubled and distracted that they cannot form one sentence
correctly; and yet grand sentences, perfectly

arranged, such as the soul in its most recollected state never
could have formed, are uttered, and at the first word, as I
said,[361] change it utterly. Still less could
it have formed them if they are uttered in an ecstasy, when the
faculties of the soul are suspended; for how should the soul then
comprehend anything, when it remembers nothing?â€”yea, rather, how can
it remember them then, when the memory can hardly do anything at all,
and the imagination is, as it were, suspended?

7. But it is to be observed, that if we see
visions and hear words it never is as at the time when the soul is in
union in the very rapture itself,â€”so it seems to me. At that moment,
as I have shown,â€”I think it was when I was speaking of the second
water,[362]â€”all the faculties of the soul are
suspended; and, as I think, neither vision, nor understanding, nor
hearing, is possible at that time. The soul is then wholly in the
power of another; and in that instantâ€”a very brief one, in my
opinionâ€”our Lord leaves it free for nothing whatever; but when this
instant is passed, the soul continuing still entranced, then is the
time of which I am speaking; for the faculties, though not completely
suspended, are so disposed that they are scarcely active, being, as it
were, absorbed, and incapable of making any reflections.

8. There are so many ways of ascertaining the
nature of these locutions, that if a person be once deceived, he will
not be deceived often. I mean, that a soul accustomed to them, and on
its guard, will most clearly see what they are; for, setting other
considerations aside which prove what I have said, the human locution
produces no effect, neither does the soul accept it,â€”though it must
admit the other, whether we like it or
not,â€”nor does it believe it; on

the contrary, it is known to be a delusion of the understanding,
and is therefore put away as we would put away the ravings of
a lunatic.

9. But as to the divine locution, we listen to
that as we do to a person of great holiness, learning, or authority,
whom we know to be incapable of uttering a falsehood. And yet this is
an inadequate illustration; for these locutions proceed occasionally
in such great majesty that, without our recollecting who it is that
utters them, they make us tremble if they be words of reproof, and die
of love if words of love. They are also, as I have
said,[363] matters of which the memory has not
the least recollection; and expressions so full are uttered so
rapidly, that much time must have been spent in arranging them, if we
formed them ourselves; and so it seems to me that we cannot possibly
be ignorant at the time that we have never formed them ourselves
at all.

10. There is no reason, therefore, why I
should dwell longer on this matter. It is a wonder to me that any
experienced person, unless he deliberately chooses to do so, can fall
into delusions. It has often happened to me, when I had doubts, to
distrust what I had heard, and to think that it was all
imagination,â€”but this I did afterwards: for at the moment that is
impossible,â€”and at a later time to see the whole fulfilled; for our
Lord makes the words dwell in the memory so that they cannot be
forgotten. Now, that which comes forth from our understanding is, as
it were, the first movement of thought, which passes away and is
forgotten; but the divine locution is a work done; and though some of
it may be forgotten, and time have lapsed, yet is not so wholly
forgotten that the memory loses all traces of what was once
spoken,â€”unless, indeed, after very long time, or unless the locution
were words of grace or of instruction. But as to prophetic words,
they are never

forgotten, in my opinion; at least, I have never forgotten
any,â€”and yet my memory is weak.

11. I repeat it, unless a soul be so wicked as
to pretend that it has these locutions, which would be a great sin,
and say that it hears divine words when it hears nothing of the kind,
it cannot possibly fail to see clearly that itself arranges the words,
and utters them to itself. That seems to me altogether impossible for
any soul that has ever known the Spirit of God. If it has not, it may
continue all its life long in this delusion, and imagine that it hears
and understands, though I know not how that can be. A soul desires to
hear these locutions, or it does not; if it does not, it is distressed
because it hears them, and is unwilling to listen to them, because of
a thousand fears which they occasion, and for many other reasons it
has for being quiet in prayer without these interruptions. How is it
that the understanding has time enough to arrange these locutions?
They require time.

12. But, on the other side, the divine
locutions instruct us without loss of time, and we understand matters
which seem to require a month on our part to arrange. The
understanding itself, and the soul, stand amazed at some of the things
we understand. So it is; and he who has any experience of it will see
that what I am saying is literally true. I give God thanks that I
have been able thus to explain it. I end by saying that, in my
opinion, we may hear the locutions that proceed from the understanding
whenever we like, and think that we hear them whenever we pray. But
it is not so with the divine locutions: for many days I may desire to
hear them, and I cannot; and at other times, even when I would not, as
I said before,[364] hear them, I must. It seems
to me that any one disposed to deceive people by saying that he heard
from God that which he has invented himself, might as easily say that
he heard it with his bodily ears. It is most

certainly true that I never imagined there was any other way of
hearing or understanding till I had proof of it in myself; and so, as
I have said before,[365] it gave me
trouble enough.

13. Locutions that come from Satan not only do
not leave any good effects behind, but do leave evil effects. This
has happened to me; but not more than two or three times. Our Lord
warned me at once that they came from Satan. Over and above the great
aridity which remains in the soul after these evil locutions, there is
also a certain disquiet, such as I have had on many other occasions,
when, by our Lord's permission, I fell into great temptations and
travail of soul in diverse ways; and though I am in trouble often
enough, as I shall
show hereafter,[366] yet
this disquiet is such that I know not whence it comes; only the soul
seems to resist, is troubled and distressed, without knowing why; for
the words of Satan are good, and not evil. I am thinking whether this
may not be so because one spirit is conscious of the presence
of another.

14. The sweetness and joy which Satan gives
are, in my opinion, of a very different kind. By means of these
sweetnesses he may deceive any one who does not, or who never did,
taste of the sweetness of God,â€”by which I mean a certain sweet,
strong, impressive, delightsome, and calm refreshing. Those little,
fervid bursts of tears, and other slight emotions,â€”for at the first
breath of persecution these flowers wither,â€”I do not call devotion,
though they are a good beginning, and are holy impressions; but they
are not a test to determine whether these locutions come from a good
or an evil spirit. It is therefore best for us to proceed always with
great caution; for those persons who have advanced in prayer only so
far as this may most easily fall into delusions, if they have visions
or revelations. For myself, I never had a single vision or
revelation till

God had led me on to the prayer of union,â€”unless it be on that
occasion, of which I have
spoken before,[367]
now many years ago, when I saw our Lord. Oh, that His Majesty had
been pleased to let me then understand that it was a true vision, as I
have since understood it was! it would have been no slight blessing
to me.

15. After these locutions of the evil one, the
soul is never gentle, but is, as it were, terrified, and
greatly disgusted.

16. I look upon it as a most certain truth,
that the devil will never deceive, and that God will not suffer him to
deceive, the soul which has no confidence whatever in itself; which is
strong in faith, and resolved to undergo a thousand deaths for any one
article of the creed; which in its love of the faith, infused of God
once for all,â€”a faith living and strong,â€”always labours, seeking for
further light on this side and on that, to mould itself on the
teaching of the Church, as one already deeply grounded in the truth.
No imaginable revelations, not even if it saw the heavens open, could
make that soul swerve in any degree from the doctrine of the Church.
If, however, it should at any time find itself wavering even in
thought on this point, or stopping to say to itself, If God says this
to me, it may be true, as well as what He said to the Saintsâ€”the soul
must not be sure of it. I do not mean that it so believes, only that
Satan has taken the first step towards tempting it; and the giving way
to the first movements of a thought like this is evidently most wrong.
I believe, however, that these first movements will not take place if
the soul is so strong in the matterâ€”as that soul is to whom our Lord
sends these gracesâ€”that it seems as if it could crush the evil
spirits in defence of the very least of the truths which the
Church holds.

17. If the soul does not discern this great
strength in itself, and if the particular devotion or vision
help it

not onwards, then it must not look upon it as safe. For though at
first the soul is conscious of no harm, great harm may by degrees
ensue; because, so far as I can see, and by experience understand,
that which purports to come from God is received only in so far as it
corresponds with the sacred writings; but if it varies therefrom ever
so little, I am incomparably more convinced that it comes from Satan
than I am now convinced it comes from God, however deep that
conviction may be. In this case, there is no need to ask for signs,
nor from what spirit it proceeds, because this varying is so clear a
sign of the devil's presence, that if all the world were to assure me
that it came from God, I would not believe it. The fact is, that all
good seems to be lost out of sight, and to have fled from the soul,
when the devil has spoken to it; the soul is thrown into a state of
disgust, and is troubled, able to do no good thing whateverâ€”for if it
conceives good desires, they are not strong; its humility is
fictitious, disturbed, and without sweetness. Any one who has ever
tasted of the Spirit of God will, I think, understand it.

18. Nevertheless, Satan has many devices; and
so there is nothing more certain than that it is safer to be afraid,
and always on our guard, under a learned director, from whom nothing
is concealed. If we do this, no harm can befall us, though much has
befallen me through the excessive fears which possessed some people.
For instance, it happened so once to me, when many persons in whom I
had great confidence, and with good reason, had assembled
together,â€”five or six in number, I think,â€”and all very great
servants of God. It is true, my relations were with one of them only;
but by his orders made my state known to the others. They had many
conferences together about my necessities; for they had great
affection for me, and were afraid I was under a delusion. I, too, was
very much afraid whenever I was not occupied in prayer; but when I
prayed, and our Lord bestowed

His graces upon me, I was instantly reassured. My confessor told
me they were all of opinion that I was deceived by Satan; that I must
communicate less frequently, and contrive to distract myself in such a
way as to be less alone.

19. I was in great fear myself, as I have just
said, and my disease of
the heart[368]
contributed thereto, so that very often I did not dare to remain alone
in my cell during the day. When I found so many maintain this, and
myself unable to believe them, I had at once a most grievous scruple;
for it seemed to me that I had very little humility, especially as
they all led lives incomparably better than mine: they were also
learned men. Why should I not believe them? I did all I could to
believe them. I reflected on my wicked life, and therefore what they
said to me must be true.

20. In this distress, I quitted the
church,[369] and entered an oratory. I had
not been to Communion for many days, nor had I been alone, which was
all my comfort. I had no one to speak to, for every one was against
me. Some, I thought, made a mock of me when I spoke to them of my
prayer, as if I were a person under delusions of the imagination;
others warned my confessor to be on his guard against me; and some
said it was clear the whole was an operation of Satan. My confessor,
though he agreed with them for the sake of trying me, as I understood
afterwards, always comforted me: and he alone did so. He told me
that, if I did not offend God, my prayer, even if it was the work of
Satan, could do me no harm; that I should be delivered from it. He
bade me pray much to God: he himself, and all his penitents, and many
others did so earnestly; I, too, with all my might, and as many as I
knew to be servants of God, prayed that His Majesty would be pleased
to lead me by another

way. This lasted, I think, about two years; and this was the
subject of my continual prayer to our Lord.

21. But there was no comfort for me when I
thought of the possibility that Satan could speak to me so often. Now
that I was never alone for prayer, our Lord made me recollected even
during conversation: He spoke what He pleased,â€”I could not avoid it;
and, though it distressed me, I was forced to listen. I was by
myself, having no one in whom I could find any comfort; unable to pray
or read, like a person stunned by heavy trials, and by the dread that
the evil one had deluded me; utterly disquieted and wearied, not
knowing what would become of me. I have been occasionallyâ€”yea, very
oftenâ€”in distress, but never before in distress so great. I was in
this state for four or five hours; there was no comfort for me, either
from heaven or on earthâ€”only our Lord left me to suffer, afraid of a
thousand dangers.

22. O my Lord, how true a friend art Thou! how
powerful! Thou showest Thy power when Thou wilt; and Thou dost will
it always, if only we will it also. Let the whole creation praise
Thee, O Thou Lord of the world! Oh, that a voice might go forth over
all the earth, proclaiming Thy faithfulness to those who love Thee!
All things fail; but Thou, Lord of all, never failest! They who love
Thee, oh, how little they have to suffer! oh, how gently, how
tenderly, how sweetly Thou, O my Lord, dealest with them! Oh, that no
one had ever been occupied with any other love than Thine! It seems
as if Thou didst subject those who love Thee to a severe trial: but it
is in order that they may learn, in the depths of that trial, the
depths of Thy love. O my God, oh, that I had understanding and
learning, and a new language, in order to magnify Thy works, according
to the knowledge of them which my soul possesses! Everything fails
me, O my Lord; but if Thou wilt not abandon me, I will never fail
Thee. Let all the learned rise up against me,â€”let the whole

creation persecute me,â€”let the evil spirits torment me,â€”but do
Thou, O Lord, fail me not; for I know by experience now the
blessedness of that deliverance which Thou dost effect for those who
trust only in Thee. In this distress,â€”for then I had never had a
single vision,â€”these Thy words alone were enough to remove it, and
give me perfect peace: "Be not afraid, my daughter: it is I; and I
will not abandon thee.
Fear not."[370]

23. It seems to me that, in the state I was in
then, many hours would have been necessary to calm me, and that no one
could have done it. Yet I found myself, through these words alone,
tranquil and strong, courageous and confident, at rest and
enlightened; in a moment, my soul seemed changed, and I felt I could
maintain against all the world that my prayer was the work of God.
Oh, how good is God! how good is our Lord, and how powerful! He gives
not counsel only, but relief as well. His words are deeds. O my God!
as He strengthens our faith, love grows. So it is, in truth; for I
used frequently to recollect how our Lord, when the tempest arose,
commanded the winds to be still over the
sea.[371] So I said to myself: Who is He,
that all my faculties should thus obey Him? Who is He, that gives
light in such darkness in a moment; who softens a heart that seemed to
be made of stone; who gives the waters of sweet tears, where for a
long time great dryness seems to have prevailed; who inspires these
desires; who bestows this courage? What have I been thinking of? what
am I afraid of? what is it? I desire to serve this my Lord; I aim at
nothing else but His pleasure; I seek no joy, no rest, no other good
than that of doing His will. I was so confident that I had no other
desire, that I could safely assert it.

24. Seeing, then, that our Lord is so
powerful,â€”as I

see and know He is,â€”and that the evil spirits are His slaves, of
which there can be no doubt, because it is of faith,â€”and I a servant
of this our Lord and King,â€”what harm can Satan do unto me? Why have
I not strength enough to fight against all hell? I took up the cross
in my hand,â€”I was changed in a moment into another person, and it
seemed as if God had really given me courage enough not to be afraid
of encountering all the evil spirits. It seemed to me that I could,
with the cross, easily defeat them altogether. So I cried out, Come
on, all of you; I am the servant of our Lord: I should like to see
what you can do against me.

25. And certainly they seemed to be afraid of
me, for I was left in peace: I feared them so little, that the
terrors, which until now oppressed me, quitted me altogether; and
though I saw them occasionally,â€”I shall speak of this by and
by,[372]â€”I was never again afraid of themâ€”on
the contrary, they seemed to be afraid of
me.[373] I found myself endowed with a certain
authority over them, given me by the Lord of all, so that I cared no
more for them than for flies. They seem to be such cowards; for their
strength fails them at the sight of any one who despises them. These
enemies have not the courage to assail any but those whom they see
ready to give in to them, or when God permits them to do so, for the
greater good of His servants, whom they may try and torment.

26. May it please His Majesty that we fear Him
whom we ought to fear,[374] and understand
that one venial sin can do us more harm than all hell together; for
that is the truth. The evil spirits keep us in terror, because we
expose ourselves to the assaults of terror by our attachments to
honours, possessions, and pleasures. For then the evil spirits,
uniting themselves with us,â€”we become our own enemies when we love
and seek

what we ought to hate,â€”do us great harm. We ourselves put weapons
into their hands, that they may assail us; those very weapons with
which we should defend ourselves. It is a great pity. But if, for
the love of God, we hated all this, and embraced the cross, and set
about His service in earnest, Satan would fly away before such
realities, as from the plague. He is the friend of lies, and a lie
himself.[375] He will have nothing to do with
those who walk in the truth. When he sees the understanding of any
one obscured, he simply helps to pluck out his eyes; if he sees any
one already blind, seeking peace in vanities,â€”for all the things of
this world are so utterly vanity, that they seem to be but the
playthings of a child,â€”he sees at once that such a one is a child; he
treats him as a child, and ventures to wrestle with himâ€”not once,
but often.

27. May it please our Lord that I be not one
of these; and may His Majesty give me grace to take that for peace
which is really peace, that for honour which is really honour, and
that for delight which is really a delight. Let me never mistake one
thing for anotherâ€”and then I snap my fingers at all the devils, for
they shall be afraid of me. I do not understand those terrors which
make us cry out, Satan, Satan! when we may say, God, God! and make
Satan tremble. Do we not know that he cannot stir without the
permission of God? What does it mean? I am really much more afraid
of those people who have so great a fear of the devil, than I am of
the devil himself. Satan can do me no harm whatever, but they can
trouble me very much, particularly if they be confessors. I have
spent some years of such great anxiety, that even now I am amazed that
I was able to bear it. Blessed be our Lord, who has so effectually
helped me!

The Life

Chapter XXVI

How the Fears of the Saint Vanished. How She Was Assured That
Her Prayer Was the Work of the Holy Spirit.

I look upon the courage which our Lord has
implanted in me against evil spirits as one of the greatest mercies
which He has bestowed upon me; for a cowardly soul, afraid of anything
but sin against God, is a very unseemly thing, when we have on our
side the King omnipotent, our Lord most high, who can do all things,
and subjects all things to Himself. There is nothing to be afraid of
if we walk, as I
said before,[376] in the truth,
in the sight of His Majesty, with a pure conscience. And for this
end, as I said in the same place, I would have myself all fears, that
I may not for one instant offend Him who in that instant is able to
destroy us. If His Majesty is pleased with us, whoever resists usâ€”be
he who he mayâ€”will be utterly disappointed.

2. It may be so, you will say; but, then, where
is that soul so just as to please Him in everything?â€”and that is the
reason why we are afraid. Certainly it is not my soul, which is most
wretched, unprofitable, and full of misery. God is not like man in
His ways; He knows our weakness. But the soul perceives, by the help
of certain great signs, whether it loves God of a truth; for the love
of those souls who have come to this state is not hidden as it was at
first, but is full of high impulses, and of longings for the vision of
God, as I shall show hereafterâ€”or rather, as I have shown
already.[377] Everything wearies, everything
distresses, everything torments the soul, unless it be suffered with
God, or for God. There is no rest which is not a weariness, because
the soul knows itself to be away

from its true rest; and so love is made most manifest, and, as I
have just said, impossible to hide.

3. It happened to me, on another occasion to be
grievously tried, and much spoken against on account of a certain
affair,â€”of which I will speak
hereafter,[378]â€”by almost everybody in the
place where I am living, and by the members of my Order. When I was
in this distress, and afflicted by many occasions of disquiet wherein
I was placed, our Lord spoke to me, saying: "What art thou afraid
of? knowest thou not that I am almighty? I will do what I have
promised thee." And so, afterwards, was it done. I found myself
at once so strong, that I could have undertaken anything, so it
seemed, immediately, even if I had to endure greater trials for His
service, and had to enter on a new state of suffering. These
locutions are so frequent, that I cannot count them; many of them are
reproaches, and He sends them when I fall into imperfections. They
are enough to destroy a soul. They correct me, however; for His
Majestyâ€”as I
said before[379]â€” gives both
counsel and relief. There are others which bring my former sins into
remembrance,â€”particularly when He is about to bestow upon me some
special grace,â€”in such a way that the soul beholds itself as being
really judged; for those reproaches of God put the truth before it so
distinctly, that it knows not what to do with itself. Some are
warnings against certain dangers to myself or others; many of them are
prophecies of future things, three or four years beforehand; and all
of them have been fulfilled: some of them I could mention. Here,
then, are so many reasons for believing that they come from God, as
make it impossible, I believe, for anybody to mistake them.

4. The safest course in these things is to
declare, without fail, the whole state of the soul, together with

the graces our Lord gives me, to a confessor who is learned, and
obey him. I do so; and if I did not, I should have no peace. Nor is
it right that we women, who are unlearned, should have any: there can
be no danger in this, but rather great profit. This is what our Lord
has often commanded me to do, and it is what I have often done. I had
a confessor[380] who mortified me greatly, and
now and then distressed me: he tried me heavily, for he disquieted me
exceedingly; and yet he was the one who, I believe, did me the most
good. Though I had a great affection for him, I was occasionally
tempted to leave him; I thought that the pain he inflicted on me
disturbed my prayer. Whenever I was resolved on leaving him, I used
to feel instantly that I ought not to do so; and one reproach of our
Lord would press more heavily upon me than all that my confessor did.
Now and then, I was worn outâ€”torture on the one hand, reproaches on
the other. I required it all, for my will was but little subdued. Our
Lord said to me once, that there was no obedience where there was no
resolution to suffer; that I was to think of His sufferings, and then
everything would be easy.

5. One of my confessors, to whom I went in the
beginning, advised me once, now that my spiritual state was known to
be the work of God, to keep silence, and not speak of these things to
any one, on the ground that it was safer to keep these graces secret.
To me, the advice seemed good, because I felt it so much whenever I
had to speak of them to
my confessor;[381] I was
also so ashamed of myself, that I felt it more keenly at times to
speak of them than I should have done in confessing grave sins,
particularly when the graces I had to reveal were great. I thought
they did not believe

me, and that they were laughing at me. I felt it so much,â€”for I
look on this as an irreverent treatment of the marvels of God,â€”that I
was glad to be silent. I learned then that I had been ill-advised by
that confessor, because I ought never to hide anything from my
confessor; for I should find great security if I told everything; and
if I did otherwise, I might at any time fall
into delusions.[382]

6. Whenever our Lord commanded me to do one
thing in prayer, and if my confessor forbade it, our Lord Himself told
me to obey my confessor. His Majesty afterwards would change the mind
of that confessor, so that he would have me do what he had forbidden
before. When we were deprived of many books written in Spanish, and
forbidden to read them,â€”I felt it deeply, for some of these books
were a great comfort to me, and I could not read them in Latin,â€”our
Lord said to me, "Be not troubled; I will give thee a living
book." I could not understand why this was said to me, for at
that time I had never had
a vision.[8][383] But, a
very few days afterwards, I understood it well enough; for I had so
much to think of, and such reasons for self-recollection in what I saw
before me and our Lord dealt so lovingly with me, in teaching me in so
many ways, that I had little or no need whatever of books. His
Majesty has been to me a veritable Book, in which I saw all truth.
Blessed be such a Book, which leaves behind an impression of what is
read therein, and in such a way that it cannotbe forgotten!

7. Who can look upon our Lord, covered with
wounds, and bowed down under persecutions, without accepting, loving,
and longing for them? Who can behold but a part of that glory which
He will give to those who serve Him without confessing that all he may
do, and all he may suffer, are altogether as nothing,

when we may hope for such a reward? Who can look at the torments
of lost souls without acknowledging the torments of this life to be
joyous delights in comparison, and confessing how much they owe to our
Lord in having saved them so often from the place of
torments?[384] But as, by the help of God, I
shall speak more at large of certain things, I wish now to go on with
the story of my life. Our Lord grant that I have been clear enough in
what I have hitherto said! I feel assured that he will understand me
who has had experience herein, and that he will see I have partially
succeeded; but as to him who has had no such experience, I should not
be surprised if he regarded it all as folly. It is enough for him
that it is I who say it, in order to be free from blame; neither will
I blame any one who shall so speak of it. Our Lord grant that I may
never fail to do His will! Amen.

The Life

Chapter XXVII

The Saint Prays to Be Directed by a Different Way.
Intellectual Visions.

I now resume the story of my life. I was in
great pain and distress; and many prayers, as I
said,[385] were made on my behalf, that our Lord
would lead me by another and a safer way; for this, they told me, was
so suspicious. The truth is, that though I was praying to God for
this, and wished I had a desire for another way, yet, when I saw the
progress I was making, I was unable really to desire a change,â€”though
I always prayed for it,â€”excepting on those occasions when I was
extremely cast down by what people said to me, and by the fears with
which they filled me.

2. I felt that I was wholly changed; I could do
nothing but put myself in the hands of God: He knew what was expedient
for me; let Him do with me according to His will in all things. I saw
that by this way I was directed heavenwards, and that formerly I was
going down to hell. I could not force myself to desire a change, nor
believe that I was under the influence of Satan. Though I was doing
all I could to believe the one and to desire the other, it was not in
my power to do so. I offered up all my actions, if there should be
any good in them, for this end; I had recourse to the Saints for whom
I had a devotion, that they might deliver me from the evil one; I made
novenas; I commended myself to St. Hilarion, to the Angel St. Michael, to whom I had recently become
devout, for this purpose; and many other Saints I importuned, that our
Lord might show me the way,â€”I mean, that they might obtain this for
me from His Majesty.

3. At the end of two years spent in prayer by
myself and others for this end, namely, that our Lord would either
lead me by another way, or show the truth of this,â€”for now the
locutions of our Lord were extremely frequent,â€”this happened to me.
I was in prayer one day,â€”it was the feast of the glorious St. Peter,[386]â€”when I saw
Christ close by me, or, to speak more correctly, felt Him; for I saw
nothing with the eyes of the body, nothing with the eyes of the soul.
He seemed to me to be close beside me; and I saw, too, as I believe,
that it was He who was speaking to me. As I was utterly ignorant that
such a vision
was possible,[387] I was extremely
afraid at first, and did nothing but weep; however, when He spoke to
me but one word to reassure me, I recovered myself, and was, as usual,
calm and comforted, without any fear whatever. Jesus Christ seemed to
be by my side continually, and,

as the vision was not imaginary, I saw no form; but I had a most
distinct feeling that He was always on my right hand, a witness of all
I did; and never at any time, if I was but slightly recollected, or
not too much distracted, could I be ignorant of His
near presence.[388]

4. I went at once to my
confessor,[389] in great distress, to tell him
of it. He asked in what form I saw our Lord. I told him I saw no
form. He then said: "How did you know that it was Christ?" I
replied, that I did not know how I knew it; but I could not help
knowing that He was close beside me,â€”that I saw Him distinctly, and
felt His presence,â€” that the recollectedness of my soul was deeper in
the prayer of quiet, and more continuous,â€”that the effects thereof
were very different from what I had hitherto experienced,â€”and that it
was most certain. I could only make comparisons in order to explain
myself; and certainly there are no comparisons, in my opinion, by
which visions of this kind can be described. Afterwards I learnt from
Friar Peter of Alcantara, a holy man of great spirituality,â€”of whom I
shall speak by and by,[390]â€”and from others of
great learning, that this vision was of the highest order, and one
with which Satan can least interfere; and therefore there are no words
whereby to explain,â€”at least, none for us women, who know so little:
learned men can explain it better.

5. For if I say that I see Him neither with the
eyes of the body, nor with those of the soul,â€”because it was not an
imaginary vision,â€”how is it that I can understand and maintain that
He stands beside me, and be more certain of it than if I saw Him? If
it be supposed that it is as if a person were blind, or in the dark,
and therefore unable to see another who is close to him, the
comparison is not exact. There is a certain likelihood about it,
however, but not much, because the other senses tell him who is blind
of that presence: he hears

the other speak or move, or he touches him; but in these visions
there is nothing like this. The darkness is not felt; only He renders
Himself present to the soul by a certain knowledge of Himself which is
more clear than the sun.[391] I do not mean
that we now see either a sun or any brightness, only that there is a
light not seen, which illumines the understanding so that the soul may
have the fruition of so great a good. This vision brings with it
great blessings.

6. It is not like that presence of God which is
frequently felt, particularly by those who have attained to the prayer
of union and of quiet, when we seem, at the very commencement of our
prayer, to find Him with whom we would converse, and when we seem to
feel that He hears us by the effects and the spiritual impressions of
great love and faith of which we are then conscious, as well as by the
good resolutions, accompanied by sweetness, which we then make. This
is a great grace from God; and let him to whom He has given it esteem
it much, because it is a very high degree of prayer; but it is not
vision. God is understood to be present there by the effects He works
in the soul: that is the way His Majesty makes His presence felt; but
here, in this vision, it is seen clearly that Jesus Christ is present,
the Son of the Virgin. In the prayer of union and of quiet, certain
inflowings of the Godhead are present; but in the vision, the Sacred
Humanity also, together with them, is pleased to be our visible
companion, and to do us good.

7. My confessor next asked me, who told me it
was Jesus Christ.[392] I replied that He often
told me so Himself; but, even before He told me so, there was an
impression on my understanding that it was He; and before this He used
to tell me so, and I saw Him not. If a person whom I had never seen,
but of whom I had heard, came to speak to me, and I were blind or
in the

dark, and told me who he was, I should believe him; but I could not
so confidently affirm that he was that person, as I might do if I had
seen him. But in this vision I could do so, because so clear a
knowledge is impressed on the soul that all doubt seems impossible,
though He is not seen. Our Lord wills that this knowledge be so
graven on the understanding, that we can no more question His presence
than we can question that which we see with our eyes: not so much
even; for very often there arises a suspicion that we have imagined
things we think we see; but here, though there may be a suspicion in
the first instant, there remains a certainty so great, that the doubt
has no force whatever. So also is it when God teaches the soul in
another way, and speaks to it without speaking, in the way I
have described.

8. There is so much of heaven in this language,
that it cannot well be understood on earth, though we may desire ever
so much to explain it, if our Lord will not teach it experimentally.
Our Lord impresses in the innermost soul that which He wills that soul
to understand; and He manifests it there without images or formal
words, after the manner of the vision I am speaking of. Consider well
this way in which God works, in order that the soul may understand
what He meansâ€”His great truths and mysteries; for very often what I
understand, when our Lord explains to me the vision, which it is His
Majesty's pleasure to set before me, is after this manner; and it
seems to me that this is a state with which the devil can least
interfere, for these reasons; but if these reasons are not good, I
must be under a delusion. The vision and the language are matters of
such pure spirituality, that there is no toil of the faculties, or of
the senses, out of whichâ€”so seems to meâ€”the devil can derive
any advantage.

9. It is only at intervals, and for an instant, that this
occurs; for generallyâ€”so I thinkâ€”the senses are

not taken away, and the faculties are not suspended: they preserve
their ordinary state. It is not always so in contemplation; on the
contrary, it is very rarely so; but when it is so, I say that we do
nothing whatever ourselves: no work of ours is then possible; all that
is done is apparently the work of our Lord. It is as if food had been
received into the stomach which had not first been eaten, and without
our knowing how it entered; but we do know well that it is there,
though we know not its nature, nor who it was that placed it there.
In this vision, I know who placed it; but I do not know how He did it.
I neither saw it, nor felt it; I never had any inclination to desire
it, and I never knew before that such a thing was possible.

10. In the locutions of which I spoke
before,[393] God makes the understanding
attentive, though it may be painful to understand what is said; then
the soul seems to have other ears wherewith it hears; and He forces it
to listen, and will not let it be distracted. The soul is like a
person whose hearing was good, and who is not suffered to stop his
ears, while people standing close beside him speak to him with a loud
voice. He may be unwilling to hear, yet hear he must. Such a person
contributes something of his own; for he attends to what is said to
him; but here there is nothing of the kind: even that little, which is
nothing more than the bare act of listening, which is granted to it in
the other case, is now out of its power. It finds its food prepared
and eaten; it has nothing more to do but to enjoy it. It is as if one
without ever learning, without taking the pains even to learn to read,
and without studying any subject whatever, should find himself in
possession of all knowledge, not knowing how or whence it came to him,
seeing that he had never taken the trouble even to learn the alphabet.
This last comparison seems to me to throw some light on this heavenly
gift; for the soul finds itself learned in a moment, and
the mystery

of the most Holy Trinity so clearly revealed to it, together with
other most deep doctrines, that there is no theologian in the world
with whom it would hesitate to dispute for the truth of
these matters.

11. It is impossible to describe the surprise
of the soul when it finds that one of these graces is enough to change
it utterly, and make it love nothing but Him who, without waiting for
anything itself might do, renders it fit for blessings so high,
communicates to it His secrets, and treats it with so much affection
and love. Some of the graces He bestows are liable to suspicion
because they are so marvellous, and given to one who has deserved them
so littleâ€”incredible, too, without a most lively faith. I intend,
therefore, to mention very few of those graces which our Lord has
wrought in me, if I should not be ordered otherwise; but there are
certain visions of which I shall speak, an account of which may be of
some service. In doing so, I shall either dispel his fears to whom
our Lord sends them, and who, as I used to do, thinks them impossible,
or I shall explain the way or the road by which our Lord has led me;
and that is what I have been commanded to describe.

12. Now, going back to speak of this way of
understanding, what it is seems to me to be this: it is our Lord's
will in every way that the soul should have some knowledge of what
passes in heaven; and I think that, as the blessed there without
speech understand one another,â€”I never knew this for certain till our
Lord of His goodness made me see it; He showed it to me in a
trance,â€”so is it here: God and the soul understand one another,
merely because His Majesty so wills it, without the help of other
means, to express the love there is between them both. In the same
way on earth, two persons of sound sense, if they love each other
much, can even, without any signs, understand one another only by
their looks. It must be so here, though we do not see how, as these
two lovers earnestly regard each

the other: the bridegroom says so to the bride in the Canticle, so
I believe, and I have heard that it is spoken
of there.[394]

13. Oh, marvellous goodness of God, in that
Thou permittest eyes which have looked upon so much evil as those of
my soul to look upon Thee! May they never accustom themselves, after
looking on Thee, to look upon vile things again! and may they have
pleasure in nothing but in Thee, O Lord! Oh, ingratitude of men, how
far will it go! I know by experience that what I am saying is true,
and that all we can say is exceedingly little, when we consider what
Thou doest to the soul which Thou hast led to such a state as this. O
souls, you who have begun to pray, and you who possess the true faith,
what can you be in search of even in this life, let alone that which
is for ever, that is comparable to the least of these graces?
Consider, and it is true, that God gives Himself to those who give up
everything for Him. God is not an accepter of
persons.[395] He loves all; there is no
excuse for any one, however wicked he may be, seeing that He hath thus
dealt with me, raising me to the state I am in. Consider, that what I
am saying is not even an iota of what may be said; I say only that
which is necessary to show the kind of the vision and of the grace
which God bestows on the soul; for that cannot be told which it feels
when our Lord admits it to the understanding of His secrets and of His
mighty works. The joy of this is so far above all conceivable joys,
that it may well make us loathe all the joys of earth; for they are
all but dross; and it is an odious thing to make them enter into the
comparison, even if we might have them for ever. Those which our Lord
gives, what are they? One drop only of the waters of the overflowing
river which He is reserving for us.

14. It is a shame! And, in truth, I am
ashamed of

myself; if shame could have a place in heaven, I should certainly
be the most ashamed there. Why do we seek blessings and joys so
great, bliss without end, and all at the cost of our good Jesus?
Shall we not at least weep with the daughters of
Jerusalem,[396] if we do not help to carry his
cross with
the Cyrenean?[397] Is it by
pleasure and idle amusements that we can attain to the fruition of
what He purchased with so much blood? It is impossible. Can we think
that we can, by preserving our honour, which is vanity, recompense Him
for the sufferings He endured, that we might reign with Him for ever?
This is not the way; we are going by the wrong road utterly, and we
shall never arrive there. You, my father, must lift up your voice,
and utter these truths aloud, seeing that God has taken from me the
power of doing it. I should like to utter them to myself for ever. I
listened to them myself, and came to the knowledge of God so late, as
will appear by what I have written, that I am ashamed of myself when I
speak of this; and so I should like to be silent.

15. Of one thing, however, I will speak, and I
think of it now and then,â€”may it be the good pleasure of our Lord to
bring me on, so that I may have the fruition of it!â€”what will be the
accidental glory and the joy of the blessed who have entered on it,
when they see that, though they were late, yet they left nothing
undone which it was possible for them to do for God, who kept nothing
back they could give Him, and who gave what they gave in every way
they could, according to their strength and their measure,â€”they who
had more gave more. How rich will he be who gave up all his riches
for Christ! How honourable will he be who, for His sake, sought no
honours whatever, but rather took pleasure in seeing himself abased!
How wise he will be who rejoiced when men accounted him as mad!â€”

they did so of
Wisdom Itself![398] How few
there are of this kind now, because of our sins! Now, indeed, they
are all gone whom people regarded
as mad,[399]
because they saw them perform heroic acts, as true lovers
of Christ.

16. O world, world! how thou art gaining
credit because they are few who know thee! But do we suppose that God
is better pleased when men account us wise and discreet persons? We
think forthwith that there is but little edification given when people
do not go about, every one in his degree, with great gravity, in a
dignified way. Even in the friar, the ecclesiastic, and the nun, if
they wear old and patched garments, we think it a novelty, and a
scandal to the weak; and even if they are very recollected and given
to prayer. Such is the state of the world, and so forgotten are
matters of perfection, and those grand impetuosities of the Saints.
More mischief, I think, is done in this way, than by any scandal that
might arise if the religious showed in their actions, as they proclaim
it in words, that the world is to be held in contempt. Out of
scandals such as this, our Lord obtains great fruit. If some people
took scandal, others are filled with remorse: anyhow, we should have
before us some likeness of that which our Lord and His Apostles
endured; for we have need of it now more than ever.

17. And what an excellent likeness in the
person of that blessed friar, Peter of Alcantara, God has just taken
from us![400] The world cannot bear such
perfection now; it is said that men's health is grown feebler, and
that we are not now in those former times. But this holy man lived in
our day; he had a spirit strong as those of another age, and so he
trampled on the world. If men do not go about barefooted,
nor undergo

sharp penances, as he did, there are many ways, as I have said
before,[401] of trampling on the world; and
our Lord teaches them when He finds the necessary courage. How great
was the courage with which His Majesty filled the Saint I am speaking
of! He did penanceâ€”oh, how sharp it was!â€”for seven-and-forty years,
as all men know. I should like to speak of it, for I know it to be
all true.

18. He spoke of it to me and to another
person, from whom he kept few or no secrets. As for me, it was the
affection he bore me that led him to speak; for it was our Lord's will
that he should undertake my defence, and encourage me, at a time when
I was in great straits, as I said before, and shall speak of
again.[402] He told me, I think, that for
forty years he slept but an hour and a half out of the twenty-four,
and that the most laborious penance he underwent, when he began, was
this of overcoming sleep. For that purpose, he was always either
kneeling or standing. When he slept, he sat down, his head resting
against a piece of wood driven into the wall. Lie down he could not,
if he wished it; for his cell, as every one knows, was only four feet
and a half in length. In all these years, he never covered his head
with his hood, even when the sun was hottest, or the rain heaviest.
He never covered his feet: the only garment he wore was made of
sackcloth, and that was as tight as it could be, with nothing between
it and his flesh; over this, he wore a cloak of the same stuff. He
told me that, in the severe cold, he used to take off his cloak, and
open the door and the window of his cell, in order that when he put
his cloak on again, after shutting the door and the window, he might
give some satisfaction to his body in the pleasure it might have in
the increased warmth. His ordinary practice was to eat but once in
three days. He said to me, "Why are you astonished at it? it is
very possible for any one who is used to it." One of

his companions told me that he would be occasionally eight days
without eating: that must have been when he was in prayer; for he was
subject to trances, and to the impetuosities of the love of God, of
which I was once a witness myself.

19. His poverty was extreme; and his
mortification, from his youth, was such,â€”so he told me,â€”that he was
three years in one of the houses of his Order without knowing how to
distinguish one friar from another, otherwise than by the voice; for
he never raised his eyes: and so, when he was obliged to go from one
part of the house to the other, he never knew the way, unless he
followed the friars. His journeys, also, were made in the same way.
For many years, he never saw a woman's face. He told me that it was
nothing to him then whether he saw it or not: but he was an aged man
when I made his acquaintance; and his weakness was so great, that he
seemed like nothing else but the roots of trees. With all his
sanctity, he was very agreeable; though his words were few, unless
when he was asked questions; he was very pleasant to speak to, for he
had a most clear understanding.

20. Many other things I should like to say of
him, if I were not afraid, my father, that you will say, Why does she
meddle here? and it is in that fear I have written this. So I leave
the subject, only saying that his last end was like his
lifeâ€”preaching to, and exhorting, his brethren. When he saw that the
end was comes he repeated
the Psalm,[403]
"LÃ¦tatus sum in his quÃ¦ dicta sunt
mihi;" and then, kneeling down, he died.

21. Since then, it has pleased our Lord that I
should find more help from him than during his life. He advises me in
many matters. I have often seen him in great glory. The first time
he appeared to me, he said: "O blessed penance, which has merited
so great a reward!" with other things. A year before

his death, he appeared to me being then far away. I knew he was
about to die, and so I sent him word to that effect, when he was some
leagues from here. When he died, he appeared to me, and said that he
was going to his rest. I did not believe it. I spoke of it to some
persons, and within eight days came the news that he was deadâ€”or, to
speak more correctly, he had begun to live
for evermore.[404]

22. Behold here, then, how that life of sharp
penance is perfected in such great glory: and now he is a greater
comfort to me, I do believe, than he was on earth. Our Lord said to
me on one occasion, that persons could not ask Him anything in his
name, and He not hear them. I have recommended many things to him
that he was to ask of our Lord, and I have seen my petitions granted.
God be blessed for ever! Amen.

23. But how I have been talking in order to
stir you up never to esteem anything in this life!â€”as if you did not
know this, or as if you were not resolved to leave everything, and had
already done it! I see so much going wrong in the world, that though
my speaking of it is of no other use than to weary me by writing of
it, it is some relief to me that all I am saying makes against myself.
Our Lord forgive me all that I do amiss herein; and you too, my
father, for wearying you to no purpose. It seems as if I would make
you do penance for my sins herein.

The Life

Chapter XXVIII

Visions of the Sacred Humanity, and of the Glorified Bodies.
Imaginary Visions. Great Fruits Thereof When They Come
from God.

I now resume our subject. I spent some
days, not many, with
that vision[405]
continually before me. It did me so much good, that I never ceased to
pray. Even when I did cease, I contrived that it should be in such a
way as that I should not displease Him whom I saw so clearly present,
an eye-witness of my acts. And though I was occasionally afraid,
because so much was said to me about delusions, that fear lasted not
long, because our Lord reassured me.

2. It pleased our Lord, one day that I was in
prayer, to show me His Hands, and His Hands only. The beauty of them
was so great, that no language can describe it. This put me in great
fear; for everything that is strange, in the beginning of any new
grace from God, makes me very much afraid. A few days later, I saw
His divine Face, and I was utterly entranced. I could not understand
why our Lord showed Himself in this way, seeing that, afterwards, He
granted me the grace of seeing His whole Person. Later on, I
understood that His Majesty was dealing with me according to the
weakness of my nature. May He be blessed for ever! A glory so great
was more than one so base and wicked could bear; and our merciful
Lord, knowing this, ordered it in this way.

3. You will think, my father, that it required
no great courage to look upon Hands and Face so beautiful. But so
beautiful are glorified bodies, that the glory which surrounds them
renders those who see that which is so supernatural and beautiful
beside themselves. It was so with me: I was in such great

fear, trouble, and perplexity at the sight. Afterwards there
ensued a sense of safety and certainty, together with other results,
so that all fear passed
immediately away.[406]

4. On one of the feasts of St. Paul,[407] when I was
at Mass, there stood before me the most Sacred
Humanity,[408] as painters represent Him after
the resurrection, in great beauty and majesty, as I particularly
described it to you, my father, when you had insisted on it. It was
painful enough to have to write about it, for I could not describe it
without doing great violence to myself. But I described it as well as
I could, and there is no reason why I should now recur to it. One
thing, however, I have to say: if in heaven itself there were nothing
else to delight our eyes but the great beauty of glorified bodies,
that would be an excessive bliss, particularly the vision of the
Humanity of Jesus Christ our Lord. If here below, where His Majesty
shows Himself to us according to the measure which our wretchedness
can bear, it is so great, what must it be there, where the fruition of
it is complete!

5. This vision, though imaginary, I never saw
with my bodily eyes, nor, indeed, any other, but only with the eyes of
the soul. Those who understand these things better than I do, say
that the intellectual vision is more perfect than this; and this, the
imaginary vision, much more perfect than those

visions which are seen by the bodily eyes. The latter kind of
visions, they say, is the lowest; and it is by these that the devil
can most delude us.[409] I did not know it
then; for I wished, when this grace had been granted me, that it had
been so in such a way that I could see it with my bodily eyes, in
order that my confessor might not say to me that I indulged
in fancies.

6. After the vision was over, it happened that
I too imaginedâ€”the thought came at onceâ€”I had fancied these things;
so I was distressed, because I had spoken of them to my confessor,
thinking that I might have been deceiving him. There was another
lamentation: I went to my confessor, and told him of my doubts. He
would ask me whether I told him the truth so far as I knew it; or, if
not, had I intended to deceive him? I would reply, that I told the
truth; for, to the best of my belief, I did not lie, nor did I mean
anything of the kind; neither would I tell a lie for the whole
world.[410] This he knew well enough; and,
accordingly, he contrived to quiet me; and I felt so much the going to
him with these doubts, that I cannot tell how Satan could have put it
into my head that I invented those things for the purpose of
tormenting myself.

7. But our Lord made such haste to bestow this
grace upon me, and to declare the reality of it, that all doubts of
the vision being a fancy on my part were quickly taken away, and ever
since I see most clearly how silly I was. For if I were to spend many
years in devising how to picture to myself anything so beautiful, I
should never be able, nor even know how, to do it for it is beyond the
reach of any possible imagination here below: the whiteness and
brilliancy alone are inconceivable. It is not a brilliancy
which dazzles,

but a delicate whiteness and a brilliancy infused, furnishing the
most excessive delight to the eyes, never wearied thereby, nor by the
visible brightness which enables us to see a beauty so divine. It is
a light so different from any light here below, that the very
brightness of the sun we see, in comparison with the brightness and
light before our eyes, seems to be something so obscure, that no one
would ever wish to open his eyes again.

8. It is like most pellucid water running in a
bed of crystal, reflecting the rays of the sun, compared with most
muddy water on a cloudy day, flowing on the surface of the earth. Not
that there is anything like the sun present here, nor is the light
like that of the sun: this light seems to be natural; and, in
comparison with it, every other light is something artificial. It is
a light which knows no night; but rather, as it is always light,
nothing ever disturbs it. In short, it is such that no man, however
gifted he may be, can ever, in the whole course of his life, arrive at
any imagination of what it is. God puts it before us so
instantaneously, that we could not open our eyes in time to see it, if
it were necessary for us to open them at all. But whether our eyes be
open or shut, it makes no difference whatever; for when our Lord
wills, we must see it, whether we will or not. No distraction can
shut it out, no power can resist it, nor can we attain to it by any
diligence or efforts of our own. I know this by experience well, as I
shall show you.

9. That which I wish now to speak of is the
manner in which our Lord manifests Himself in these visions. I do not
mean that I am going to explain how it is that a light so strong can
enter the interior sense, or so distinct an image the understanding,
so as to seem to be really there; for this must be work for learned
men. Our Lord has not been pleased to let me understand how it is. I
am so ignorant myself, and so dull of understanding, that, although
people have very much

wished to explain it to me, I have never been able to understand
how it can be.

10. This is the truth: though you, my father,
may think that I have a quick understanding, it is not so; for I have
found out, in many ways, that my understanding can take in only, as
they say, what is given to it to eat. Sometimes my confessor used to
be amazed at my ignorance: and he never explained to meâ€”nor, indeed,
did I desire to understandâ€”how God did this, nor how it could be.
Nor did I ever ask; though, as I
have said,[411]
I had converse for many years with men of great learning. But I did
ask them if this or that were a sin or not: as for everything else,
the thought that God did it all was enough for me. I saw there was no
reason to be afraid, but great reason to praise Him. On the other
hand, difficulties increase my devotion; and the greater the
difficulty the greater the increase.

11. I will therefore relate what my experience
has shown me; but how our Lord brought it about, you, my father, will
explain better than I can, and make clear all that is obscure, and
beyond my skill to explain. Now and then it seemed to me that what I
saw was an image; but most frequently it was not so. I thought it was
Christ Himself, judging by the brightness in which He was pleased to
show Himself. Sometimes the vision was so indistinct, that I thought
it was an image; but still not like a picture, however well
paintedâ€”and I have seen many good pictures. It would be absurd to
suppose that the one bears any resemblance whatever to the other, for
they differ as a living person differs from his portrait, which,
however well drawn, cannot be lifelike, for it is plain that it is a
dead thing. But let this pass, though to the purpose, and
literally true.

12. I do not say this by way of comparison,
for comparisons are never exact, but because it is the

truth itself, as there is the same difference here that there is
between a living subject and the portrait thereof, neither more nor
less: for if what I saw was an image, it was a living image,â€”not a
dead man, but the living Christ: and He makes me see that He is God
and man,â€”not as He was in the sepulchre, but as He was when He had
gone forth from it, risen from the dead. He comes at times in majesty
so great, that no one can have any doubt that it is our Lord Himself,
especially after Communion: we know that He is then present, for faith
says so. He shows Himself so clearly to be the Lord of that little
dwelling-place, that the soul seems to be dissolved and lost in
Christ. O my Jesus, who can describe the majesty wherein Thou showest
Thyself! How utterly Thou art the Lord of the whole world, and of
heaven, and of a thousand other and innumerable worlds and heavens,
the creation of which is possible to Thee! The soul understands by
that majesty wherein Thou showest Thyself that it is nothing for Thee
to be Lord of all this.

13. Here it is plain, O my Jesus, how slight
is the power of all the devils in comparison with Thine, and how he
who is pleasing unto Thee is able to tread all hell under his feet.
Here we see why the devils trembled when Thou didst go down to Limbus,
and why they might have longed for a thousand hells still lower, that
they might escape from Thy terrible Majesty. I see that it is Thy
will the soul should feel the greatness of Thy Majesty, and the power
of Thy most Sacred Humanity, united with Thy Divinity. Here, too, we
see what the day of judgment will be, when we shall behold the King in
His Majesty, and in the rigour of His justice against the wicked.
Here we learn true humility, imprinted in the soul by the sight of its
own wretchedness, of which now it cannot be ignorant. Here, also, is
confusion of face, and true repentance for sins; for though the soul
sees that our

Lord shows how He loves it, yet it knows not where to go, and so is
utterly dissolved.

14. My meaning is, that so exceedingly great
is the power of this vision, when our Lord shows the soul much of His
grandeur and majesty, that it is impossible, in my opinion, for any
soul to endure it, if our Lord did not succour it in a most
supernatural way, by throwing it into a trance or ecstasy, whereby the
vision of the divine presence is lost in the fruition thereof. It is
true that afterwards the vision is forgotten; but there remains so
deep an impression of the majesty and beauty of God, that it is
impossible to forget it, except when our Lord is pleased that the soul
should suffer from aridity and desolation, of which I shall speak
hereafter;[412] for then it seems to forget God
Himself. The soul is itself no longer, it is always inebriated; it
seems as if a living love of God, of the highest kind, made a new
beginning within it; for though the former vision, which I said
represented God without any likeness of
Him,[413] is of a higher kind, yet because of
our weakness, in order that the remembrance of the vision may last,
and that our thoughts may be well occupied, it is a great matter that
a presence so divine should remain and abide in our imagination.
These two kinds of visions come almost always together, and they do so
come; for we behold the excellency and beauty and glory of the most
Holy Humanity with the eyes of the soul. And in the other way I have
spoken of,â€”that of intellectual vision,â€”we learn how He is God, is
mighty, can do all things, commands all things, governs all things,
and fills all things with His love.

15. This vision is to be esteemed very highly;
nor is there, in my opinion, any risk in it, because the fruits of it
show that the devil has no power here. I think he tried three or four
times to represent our Lord to me, in this way, by a false image of
Him. He

takes the appearance of flesh, but he cannot counterfeit the glory
which it has when the vision is from God. Satan makes his
representations in order to undo the true vision which the soul has
had: but the soul resists instinctively; is troubled, disgusted, and
restless; it loses that devotion and joy it previously had, and cannot
pray at all. In the beginning, it so happened to me three or four
times. These satanic visions are very different things; and even he
who shall have attained to the prayer of quiet only will, I believe,
detect them by those results of them which I described when I was
speaking of locutions.[414] They are most
easily recognised; and if a soul consents not to its own delusion, I
do not think that Satan will be able to deceive it, provided it walks
in humility and singleness of heart. He who shall have had the true
vision, coming from God, detects the false visions at once; for,
though they begin with a certain sweetness and joy, the soul rejects
them of itself; and the joy which Satan ministers must be, I think,
very differentâ€”it shows no traces of pure and holy love: Satan very
quickly betrays himself.

16. Thus, then, as I believe, Satan can do no
harm to anyone who has had experience of these things; for it is the
most impossible of all impossible things that all this may be the work
of the imagination. There is no ground whatever for the supposition;
for the very beauty and whiteness of one of our Lord's
Hands[415] are beyond our imagination
altogether. How is it that we see present before us, in a moment,
what we do not remember, what we have never thought of, and, moreover,
what, in a long space of time, the imagination could not compass,
because, as I have
just said,[416] it far
transcends anything we can comprehend in this life? This, then, is
not possible. Whether we have any power in the matter or not will
appear by what I am now going to say.

17. If the vision were the work of a man's own
understanding,â€”setting aside that such a vision would not accomplish
the great results of the true one, nor, indeed, any at all,â€”it would
be as the act of one who tries to go to sleep, and yet continues
awake, because sleep has not come. He longs for it, because of some
necessity or weakness in his head: and so he lulls himself to sleep,
and makes efforts to procure it, and now and then thinks he has
succeeded; but, if the sleep be not real, it will not support him, nor
supply strength to his head: on the contrary, his head will very often
be the worse for it. So will it be here, in a measure; the soul will
be dissipated, neither sustained nor strengthened; on the contrary, it
will be wearied and disgusted. But, in the true vision, the riches
which abide in the soul cannot be described; even the body receives
health and comfort.

18. I urged this argument, among others, when
they told me that my visions came from the evil one, and that I
imagined them myself,â€”and it was very often,â€”and made use of certain
illustrations, as well as I could, and as our Lord suggested to me.
But all was to little purpose; for as there were most holy persons in
the place,â€”in comparison with whom I was a mass of perdition,â€”whom
God did not lead by this way, they were at once filled with fear; they
thought it all came through my sins. And so my state was talked
about, and came to the knowledge of many; though I had spoken of it to
no one, except my confessor, or to those to whom he
commanded[417] me to speak of it.

19. I said to them once, If they who thus
speak of my state were to tell me that a person with whom I had just
conversed, and whom I knew well, was not that person, but that I was
deluding myself, and that they knew it, I should certainly trust them
rather than my own eyes. But if that person left with me certain
jewels,â€”and if, possessing none previously, I held the

jewels in my hand as pledges of a great love,â€”and if I were now
rich, instead of poor as before,â€”I should not be able to believe this
that they said, though I might wish it. These jewels I could now show
them, for all who knew me saw clearly that my soul was changed,â€”and
so my confessor said; for the difference was very great in every
wayâ€”not a pretence, but such as all might most clearly observe. As I
was formerly so wicked, I said, I could not believe that Satan, if he
wished to deceive me and take me down to hell, would have recourse to
means so adverse to his purpose as this, of rooting out my faults,
implanting virtues and spiritual strength; for I saw clearly that I
had become at once another person through the instrumentality of
these visions.

20. My confessor, who was, as I said
before,[418] one of the fathers of the Society
of Jesus, and a really holy man, answered them in the same way,â€”so I
learnt afterwards. He was a most discreet man, and of great humility;
but this great humility of his brought me into serious trouble: for,
though he was a man much given to prayer, and learned, he never
trusted his own judgment, because our Lord was not leading him by this
way. He had, therefore, much to suffer on my account, in many ways.
I knew they used to say to him that he must be on his guard against
me, lest Satan should delude him through a belief in anything I might
say to him. They gave instances of others who were
deluded.[419] All this distressed me. I
began to be afraid I should find no one to hear my
confession,[420] and that all would avoid me.
I did nothing but weep.

21. It was a providence of God that he was
willing to stand by me and hear my confession. But he was so great a
servant of God, that he would have exposed

himself to anything for His sake. So he told me that if I did not
offend God, nor swerve from the instructions he gave me, there was no
fear I should be deserted by him. He encouraged me always, and
quieted me. He bade me never to conceal anything from him; and I
never did.[421] He used to say that, so long
as I did this, the devil, if it were the devil, could not hurt me; on
the contrary, out of that evil which Satan wished to do me, our Lord
would bring forth good. He laboured with all his might to make me
perfect. As I was very much afraid myself, I obeyed him in
everything, though imperfectly. He had much to suffer on my account
during three years of trouble and more, because he heard my confession
all that time; for in the great persecutions that fell upon me, and
the many harsh judgments of me which our Lord permitted,â€”many of
which I did not deserve,â€”everything was carried to him, and he was
found fault with because of me,â€”he being all the while
utterly blameless.

22. If he had not been so holy a man, and if
our Lord had not been with him, it would have, been impossible for him
to bear so much; for he had to answer those who regarded me as one
going to destruction; and they would not believe what he said to them.
On the other hand, he had to quiet me, and relieve me of my fears;
when my fears increased, he had again to reassure me; for, after every
vision which was strange to me, our Lord permitted me to remain in
great fear. All this was the result of my being then, and of having
been, a sinner. He used to console me out of his great compassion;
and, if he had trusted to his own convictions, I should not have had
so much to suffer; for God revealed the whole truth to him. I believe
that he received this light from the Blessed Sacrament.

23. Those servants of God who were not
satisfied had many conversations
with me.[422]
As I spoke to

them carelessly, so they misunderstood my meaning in many things. I
had a great regard for one of them; for my soul owed him more than I
can tell. He was a most holy man, and I felt it most acutely when I
saw that he did not understand me. He had a great desire for my
improvement, and hoped our Lord would enlighten me. So, then, because
I spoke, as I was saying, without careful consideration, they looked
upon me as deficient in humility; and when they detected any of my
faultsâ€”they might have detected manyâ€”they condemned me at once.
They used to put certain questions to me, which I answered simply and
carelessly. Then they concluded forthwith that I wished to teach
them, and that I considered myself to be a learned woman. All this
was carried to my confessor,â€”for certainly they desired my
amendmentâ€”and so he would reprimand me. This lasted some time, and I
was distressed on many sides; but, with the graces which our Lord gave
me, I bore it all.

24. I relate this in order that people may see
what a great trial it is not to find any one who knows this way of the
spirit by experience. If our Lord had not dealt so favourably with
me, I know not what would have become of me. There were some things
that were enough to take away my reason; and now and then I was
reduced to such straits that I could do nothing but lift up my eyes to
our Lord.[423] The contradiction of good
people, which a wretched woman, weak, wicked, and timid as I am, must
bear with, seems to be nothing when thus described; but I, who in the
course of my life passed through very great trials, found this one of
the heaviest.[424]

25. May our Lord grant that I may have pleased
His Majesty a little herein; for I am sure that they pleased Him who
condemned and rebuked me, and that it was all for my great good.

The Life

Chapter XXIX

Of Visions. The Graces Our Lord Bestowed on the Saint. The
Answers Our Lord Gave Her for Those Who Tried Her.

I have wandered far from the subject; for I
undertook to give reasons why the vision was no work of the
imagination. For how can we, by any efforts of ours, picture to
ourselves the Humanity of Christ, and imagine His great beauty? No
little time is necessary, if our conception is in any way to resemble
it. Certainly, the imagination may be able to picture it, and a
person may for a time contemplate that picture,â€”the form and the
brightness of it,â€”and gradually make it more perfect, and so lay up
that image in his memory. Who can hinder this, seeing that it could
be fashioned by the understanding? But as to the vision of which I am
speaking, there are no means of bringing it about; only we must behold
it when our Lord is pleased to present it before us, as He wills and
what He wills; and there is no possibility of taking anything away
from it, or of adding anything to it; nor is there any way of
effecting it, whatever we may do, nor of seeing it when we like, nor
of abstaining from seeing; if we try to gaze upon itâ€”part of the
vision in particularâ€”the vision of Christ is lost at once.

2. For two years and a half God granted me this
grace very frequently; but it is now more than three years since He
has taken away from me its continual presence, through another of a
higher nature, as I shall perhaps explain
hereafter.[425] And though I saw Him speaking
to me, and though I was contemplating His great beauty, and the
sweetness with which those words of His came forth from His divine
mouth,â€”they were sometimes uttered with severity,â€”and

though I was extremely desirous to behold the colour of His eyes,
or the form of them, so that I might be able to describe them, yet I
never attained to the sight of them, and I could do nothing for that
end; on the contrary, I lost the vision altogether. And though I see
that He looks upon me at times with great tenderness, yet so strong is
His gaze, that my soul cannot endure it; I fall into a trance so deep,
that I lose the beautiful vision, in order to have a greater fruition
of it all.

3. Accordingly, willing or not willing, the
vision has nothing to do with it. Our Lord clearly regards nothing
but humility and confusion of face, the acceptance of what He wishes
to give, and the praise of Himself, the Giver. This is true of all
visions without exception: we can contribute nothing towards themâ€”we
cannot add to them, nor can we take from them; our own efforts can
neither make nor unmake them. Our Lord would have us see most clearly
that it is no work of ours, but of His Divine Majesty; we are
therefore the less able to be proud of it: on the contrary, it makes
us humble and afraid; for we see that, as our Lord can take from us
the power of seeing what we would see, so also can He take from us
these mercies and His grace, and we may be lost for ever. We must
therefore walk in His fear while we are living in this our exile.

4. Our Lord showed Himself to me almost always
as He is after His resurrection. It was the same in the Host; only at
those times when I was in trouble, and when it was His will to
strengthen me, did He show His wounds. Sometimes I saw Him on the
cross, in the Garden, crowned with thorns,â€”but that was rarely;
sometimes also carrying His cross because of my necessities,â€”I may
say so,â€”or those of others; but always in His glorified body. Many
reproaches and many vexations have I borne while telling thisâ€”many
suspicions and much persecution also. So

certain were they to whom I spoke that I had an evil spirit, that
some would have me exorcised. I did not care much for this; but I
felt it bitterly when I saw that my confessors were afraid to hear me,
or when I knew that they were told of anything about me.

5. Notwithstanding all this, I never could be
sorry that I had had these heavenly visions; nor would I exchange even
one of them for all the wealth and all the pleasures of the world. I
always regarded them as a great mercy from our Lord; and to me they
were the very greatest treasure,â€”of this our Lord assured me often.
I used to go to Him to complain of all these hardships; and I came
away from prayer consoled, and with renewed strength. I did not dare
to contradict those who were trying me; for I saw that it made matters
worse, because they looked on my doing so as a failure in humility. I
spoke of it to my confessor; he always consoled me greatly when he saw
me in distress.

6. As my visions grew in frequency, one of
those who used to help me beforeâ€”it was to him I confessed when the
father-minister[426] could not hear meâ€”began to
say that I was certainly under the influence of Satan. He bade me,
now that I had no power of resisting, always to make the sign of the
cross when I had a vision, to point my finger at it by way of
scorn,[427] and be firmly persuaded of its
diabolic nature. If I did this, the vision would not recur. I was to
be without fear on the point; God would watch over me, and take the
vision away.[428] This was a great hardship for
me; for, as I could not believe that the vision did not

come from God, it was a fearful thing for me to do; and I could not
wish, as I said before, that the visions should be withheld. However,
I did at last as I was bidden. I prayed much to our Lord, that He
would deliver me from delusions. I was always praying to that effect,
and with many tears. I had recourse also to St. Peter and St.
Paul; for our Lord had said to meâ€”it was on their feast that He had
appeared to me the
first time[429]â€”that they
would preserve me from delusion. I used to see them frequently most
distinctly on my left hand; but that vision was not imaginary. These
glorious Saints were my very good lords.

7. It was to me a most painful thing to make a
show of contempt whenever I saw our Lord in a vision; for when I saw
Him before me, if I were to be cut in pieces, I could not believe it
was Satan. This was to me, therefore, a heavy kind of penance; and
accordingly, that I might not be so continually crossing myself, I
used to hold a crucifix in my hand. This I did almost always; but I
did not always make signs of contempt, because I felt that too much.
It reminded me of the insults which the Jews heaped upon Him; and so I
prayed Him to forgive me, seeing that I did so in obedience to him who
stood in His stead, and not to lay the blame on me, seeing that he was
one of those whom He had placed as His ministers in His Church. He
said to me that I was not to distress myselfâ€”that I did well to obey;
but He would make them see the truth of the matter. He seemed to me
to be angry when they made me give up my
prayer.[430] He told me to say to them that
this was tyranny. He gave me reasons for believing that the vision
was not satanic; some of them I mean to repeat by and by.

8. On one occasion, when I was holding in my
hand the cross of my rosary, He took it from me into His

own hand. He returned it; but it was then four large stones
incomparably more precious than diamonds; for nothing can be compared
with what is supernatural. Diamonds seem counterfeits and imperfect
when compared with these precious stones. The five wounds were
delineated on them with most admirable art. He said to me, that for
the future that cross would appear so to me always; and so it did. I
never saw the wood of which it was made, but only the precious stones.
They were seen, however, by no one else,â€”only
by myself.[431]

9. When they had begun to insist on my putting
my visions to a test like this, and resisting them, the graces I
received were multiplied more and more. I tried to distract myself; I
never ceased to be in prayer: even during sleep my prayer seemed to be
continual; for now my love grew, I made piteous complaints to our
Lord, and told Him I could not bear it. Neither was it in my
powerâ€”though I desired, and, more than that, even stroveâ€”to give up
thinking of Him. Nevertheless, I obeyed to the utmost of my power;
but my power was little or nothing in the matter; and our Lord never
released me from that obedience; but though He bade me obey my
confessor, He reassured me in another way, and taught me what I was to
say. He has continued to do so until now; and He gave me reasons so
sufficient, that I felt myself perfectly safe.

10. Not long afterwards His Majesty began,
according to His promise, to make it clear that it was He Himself who
appeared, by the growth in me of the love of God so strong, that I
knew not who could have infused it; for it was most supernatural, and
I had not attained to it by any efforts of my own. I saw myself dying
with a desire to see God, and I knew not how to

seek that life otherwise than by dying. Certain great
impetuosities[432] of love, though not so
intolerable as those of which I have spoken
before,[433] nor yet of so great worth,
overwhelmed me. I knew not what to do; for nothing gave me pleasure,
and I had no control over myself. It seemed as if my soul were really
torn away from myself. Oh, supreme artifice of our Lord! how tenderly
didst Thou deal with Thy miserable slave! Thou didst hide Thyself from
me, and didst yet constrain me with Thy love, with a death so sweet,
that my soul would never wish it over.

11. It is not possible for any one to
understand these impetuosities if he has not experienced them himself.
They are not an upheaving of the breast, nor those devotional
sensations, not uncommon, which seem on the point of causing
suffocation, and are beyond control. That prayer is of a much lower
order; and those agitations should be avoided by gently endeavouring
to be recollected; and the soul should be kept in quiet. This prayer
is like the sobbing of little children, who seem on the point of
choking, and whose disordered senses are soothed by giving them to
drink. So here reason should draw in the reins, because nature itself
may be contributing to it and we should consider with fear that all
this may not be perfect, and that much sensuality may be involved in
it. The infant soul should be soothed by the caresses of love, which
shall draw forth its love in a gentle way, and not, as they say, by
force of blows. This love should be inwardly under control, and not
as a caldron, fiercely boiling because too much fuel has been applied
to it, and out of which everything is lost. The source of the fire
must be kept under control, and the flame must be quenched in sweet
tears, and not with those painful tears which come out of these
emotions, and which do so much harm.

12. In the beginning, I had tears of this
kind. They left me with a disordered head and a wearied spirit, and
for a day or two afterwards unable to resume my prayer. Great
discretion, therefore, is necessary at first, in order that everything
may proceed gently, and that the operations of the spirit may be
within; all outward manifestations should be carefully avoided.

13. These other impetuosities are very
different. It is not we who apply the fuel; the fire is already
kindled, and we are thrown into it in a moment to be consumed. It is
by no efforts of the soul that it sorrows over the wound which the
absence of our Lord has inflicted on it; it is far otherwise; for an
arrow is driven into the entrails to the very
quick,[434] and into the heart at times, so
that the soul knows not what is the matter with it, nor what it wishes
for. It understands clearly enough that it wishes for God, and that
the arrow seems tempered with some herb which makes the soul hate
itself for the love of our Lord, and willingly lose its life for Him.
It is impossible to describe or explain the way in which God wounds
the soul, nor the very grievous pain inflicted, which deprives it of
all self-consciousness; yet this pain is so sweet, that there is no
joy in the world which gives greater delight. As I have just
said,[435] the soul would wish to be always
dying of this wound.

14. This pain and bliss together carried me
out of myself, and I never could understand how it was. Oh, what a
sight a wounded soul is!â€”a soul, I mean, so conscious of it, as to be
able to say of itself that it is wounded for so good a cause; and
seeing distinctly that it never did anything whereby this love should
come to it, and that it does come from that exceeding love which our
Lord bears it. A spark seems to have

fallen suddenly upon it, that has set it all on fire. Oh, how
often do I remember, when in this state, those words of David: "Quemadmodum desiderat cervus ad fontes
aquarum"![436] They seem to me to
be literally true of myself.

15. When these impetuosities are not very
violent they seem to admit of a little mitigationâ€”at least, the soul
seeks some relief, because it knows not what to doâ€”through certain
penances; the painfulness of which, and even the shedding of its
blood, are no more felt than if the body were dead. The soul seeks
for ways and means to do something that may be felt, for the love of
God; but the first pain is so great, that no bodily torture I know of
can take it away. As relief is not to be had here, these medicines
are too mean for so high a disease. Some slight mitigation may be
had, and the pain may pass away a little, by praying God to relieve
its sufferings: but the soul sees no relief except in death, by which
it thinks to attain completely to the fruition of its good. At other
times, these impetuosities are so violent, that the soul can do
neither this nor anything else; the whole body is contracted, and
neither hand nor foot can be moved: if the body be upright at the
time, it falls down, as a thing that has no control over itself. It
cannot even breathe; all it does is to moanâ€”not loudly, because it
cannot: its moaning, however, comes from a keen sense of pain.

16. Our Lord was pleased that I should have at
times a vision of this kind: I saw an angel close by me, on my left
side, in bodily form. This I am not accustomed to see, unless very
rarely. Though I have visions of angels frequently, yet I see them
only by an intellectual vision, such as I have spoken of
before.[13][437] It was our Lord's will that in
this vision I should see the angel in this wise. He was not large,
but small of

stature, and most beautifulâ€”his face burning, as if he were one of
the highest angels, who seem to be all of fire: they must be those
whom we call cherubim.[438] Their names they
never tell me; but I see very well that there is in heaven so great a
difference between one angel and another, and between these and the
others, that I cannot explain it.

17. I saw in his hand a long spear of gold,
and at the iron's point there seemed to be a little fire. He appeared
to me to be thrusting it at times into my
heart,[439] and to pierce my very entrails;
when he drew it out, he seemed to draw them out also, and to leave me
all on fire with a great love of God. The pain was so great, that it
made me moan; and yet so surpassing was the sweetness of this
excessive pain, that I could not wish to be rid of it. The soul is
satisfied now with nothing less than God. The pain is not bodily, but
spiritual; though the body has its share in it, even a large one. It
is a caressing of love so sweet which now takes place between the soul
and God, that I pray God of His goodness to make him experience it who
may think that I
am lying.[440]

18. During the days that this lasted, I went
about as if beside myself. I wished to see, or speak with, no one,
but only to cherish my pain, which was to me a greater bliss than all
created things could
give me.[441]

19. I was in this state from time to time,
whenever it was our Lord's pleasure to throw me into those deep

trances, which I could not prevent even when I was in the company
of others, and which, to my deep vexation, came to be publicly known.
Since then, I do not feel that pain so much, but only that which I
spoke of before,â€”I do not remember the
chapter,[442]â€”which is in many ways very
different from it, and of greater worth. On the other hand, when this
pain, of which I am now speaking, begins, our Lord seems to lay hold
of the soul, and to throw it into a trance, so that there is no time
for me to have any sense of pain or suffering, because fruition ensues
at once. May He be blessed for ever, who hath bestowed such great
graces on one who has responded so ill to blessings so great!

The Life

Chapter XXX

St. Peter of Alcantara Comforts the
Saint. Great Temptations and Interior Trials.

When I saw that I was able to do little or
nothing towards avoiding these great impetuosities, I began also to be
afraid of them, because I could not understand how this pain and joy
could subsist together. I knew it was possible enough for bodily pain
and spiritual joy to dwell together; but the coexistence of a
spiritual pain so excessive as this, and of joy so deep, troubled my
understanding. Still, I tried to continue my resistance; but I was so
little able, that I was now and then wearied. I used to take up the
cross for protection, and try to defend myself against Him who, by the
cross, is the Protector of us all. I saw that no one understood me.
I saw it very clearly myself, but I did not dare to say so to any one
except my confessor; for that would have been a real admission that I
had no humility.

2. Our Lord was pleased to succour me in a
great measure,â€”and, for the moment, altogether,â€”by bringing to the
place where I was that blessed friar, Peter of Alcantara. Of him I
spoke before, and said something of his
penance.[443] Among other things, I have been
assured that he wore continually, for twenty years, a girdle made of
iron.[444] He is the author of certain little
books, in Spanish, on prayer, which are now in common use; for, as he
was much exercised therein, his writings are very profitable to those
who are given to prayer. He kept the first rule of the blessed St. Francis in all its rigour, and did those
things besides of which I spoke before.

3. When that widow, the servant of God and my
friend, of whom I have
already spoken,[445] knew
that so great a man had come, she took her measures. She knew the
straits I was in, for she was an eye-witness of my afflictions, and
was a great comfort to me. Her faith was so strong, that she could
not help believing that what others said was the work of the devil was
really the work of the Spirit of God; and as she is a person of great
sense and great caution, and one to whom our Lord is very bountiful in
prayer, it pleased His Majesty to let her see what learned men failed
to discern. My confessors gave me leave to accept relief in some
things from her, because in many ways she was able to afford it. Some
of those graces which our Lord bestowed on me fell to her lot
occasionally, together with instructions most profitable for her soul.
So, then, when she knew that the blessed man was come, without saying
a word to me, she obtained leave from the Provincial for me to stay
eight days in her house, in order that I might the more easily confer
with him. In that house, and in one church or another, I had many
conversations with him the first time he

came here; for, afterwards, I had many communications with him at
diverse times.

4. I gave him an account, as briefly as I
could, of my life, and of my way of prayer, with the utmost clearness
in my power. I have always held to this, to be perfectly frank and
exact with those to whom I make known the state of my
soul.[446] Even my first impulses I wish them
to know; and as for doubtful and suspicious matters, I used to make
the most of them by arguing against myself. Thus, then, without
equivocation or concealment, I laid before him the state of my soul.
I saw almost at once that he understood me, by reason of his own
experience. That was all I required; for at that time I did not know
myself as I do now, so as to give an account of my state. It was at a
later time that God enabled me to understand myself, and describe the
graces which His Majesty bestows upon me. It was necessary, then,
that he who would clearly understand and explain my state should have
had experience of it himself.

5. The light he threw on the matter was of the
clearest; for as to these visions, at least, which were not imaginary,
I could not understand how they could be. And it seemed that I could
not understand, too, how those could be which I saw with the eyes of
the soul; for, as I
said before,[447] those
visions only seemed to me to be of consequence which were seen with
the bodily eyes: and of these I had none. The holy man enlightened me
on the whole question, explained it to me, and bade me not to be
distressed, but to praise God, and to abide in the full conviction
that this was the work of the Spirit of God; for, saving the faith,
nothing could be more true, and there was nothing on which I could
more firmly rely. He was greatly comforted in me, was most kind and
serviceable, and ever afterwards took great care of me, and told me of
his own affairs and labours; and when he saw that I

had those very desires which in himself were fulfilled
already,â€”for our Lord had given me very strong desires,â€”and also how
great my resolution was, he delighted in conversing with me.

6. To a person whom our Lord has raised to this
state, there is no pleasure or comfort equal to that of meeting with
another whom our Lord has begun to raise in the same way. At that
time, however, it must have been only a beginning with me, as I
believe; and God grant I may not have gone back now. He was extremely
sorry for me. He told me that one of the greatest trials in this
world was that which I had borne,â€”namely, the contradiction of good
people,[448]â€”and that more was in reserve for
me: I had need, therefore, of some oneâ€”and there was no one in this
cityâ€”who understood me; but he would speak to my confessor, and to
that married nobleman, already
spoken of,[449]
who was one of those who tormented me most, and who, because of his
great affection for me, was the cause of all these attacks. He was a
holy but timid man, and could not feel safe about me, because he had
seen how wicked I was, and that not long before. The holy man did so;
he spoke to them both, explained the matter, and gave them reasons why
they should reassure themselves, and disturb me no more. My confessor
was easily satisfied,â€”not so the nobleman; for though they were not
enough to keep him quiet, yet they kept him in some measure from
frightening me so much as he used to do.

7. We made an agreement that I should write to
him and tell him how it fared with me, for the future, and that we
should pray much for each other. Such was his humility, that he held
to the prayers of a wretch like me. It made me very much ashamed of
myself. He left me in the greatest consolation and joy, bidding me
continue my prayer with confidence,

and without any doubt that it was the work of God. If I should
have any doubts, for my greater security, I was to make them known to
my confessor, and, having done so, be in peace. Nevertheless, I was
not able at all to feel that confidence, for our Lord was leading me
by the way of fear; and so, when they told me that the devil had power
over me, I believed them. Thus, then, not one of them was able to
inspire me with confidence on the one hand, or fear on the other, in
such a way as to make me believe either of them, otherwise than as our
Lord allowed me. Accordingly, though the holy friar consoled and
calmed me, I did not rely so much on him as to be altogether without
fear, particularly when our Lord forsook me in the afflictions of my
soul, of which I will now speak. Nevertheless, as I have said, I was
very much consoled.

8. I could not give thanks enough to God, and
to my glorious father St. Joseph, who
seemed to me to have brought him here. He was the commissary-general
of the custody[450] of St. Joseph, to whom, and to our Lady, I used to
pray much.

9. I suffered at timesâ€”and even still, though
not so oftenâ€”the most grievous trials, together with bodily pains and
afflictions arising from violent sicknesses; so much so, that I could
scarcely control myself. At other times, my bodily sickness was more
grievous; and as I had no spiritual pain, I bore it with great joy:
but, when both pains came upon me together, my distress was so heavy,
that I was reduced to sore straits.

10. I forgot all the mercies our Lord had
shown me, and remembered them only as a dream, to my great distress;
for my understanding was so dull, that I had a thousand doubts and
suspicions whether I had ever understood matters aright, thinking that
perhaps all was fancy, and that it was enough for me to have deceived
myself, without also deceiving good men. I

looked upon myself as so wicked as to have been the cause, by my
sins, of all the evils and all the heresies that had sprung up. This
is but a false humility, and Satan invented it for the purpose of
disquieting me, and trying whether he could thereby drive my soul to
despair. I have now had so much experience, that I know this was his
work; so he, seeing that I understand him, does not torment me in the
same way as much as he used to do. That it is his work is clear from
the restlessness and discomfort with which it begins, and the trouble
it causes in the soul while it lasts; from the obscurity and distress,
the aridity and indisposition for prayer and for every good work,
which it produces. It seems to stifle the soul and trammel the body,
so as to make them good for nothing.

11. Now, though the soul acknowledges itself
to be miserable, and though it is painful to us to see ourselves as we
are, and though we have most deep convictions of our own
wickedness,â€”deep as those spoken of just
now,[451] and really felt,â€”yet true humility is
not attended with trouble; it does not disturb the soul; it causes
neither obscurity nor aridity: on the contrary, it consoles. It is
altogether different, bringing with it calm, sweetness, and light. It
is no doubt painful; but, on the other hand, it is consoling, because
we see how great is the mercy of our Lord in allowing the soul to have
that pain, and how well the soul is occupied. On the one hand, the
soul grieves over its offences against God; on the other, His
compassion makes it glad. It has light, which makes it ashamed of
itself; and it gives thanks to His Majesty, who has borne with it so
long. That other humility, which is the work of Satan, furnishes no
light for any good work; it pictures God as bringing upon everything
fire and sword; it dwells upon His justice; and the soul's faith in
the mercy of Godâ€” for the power of the devil does not reach so far as
to destroy faithâ€”is of such a nature

as to give me no consolation: on the contrary, the consideration of
mercies so great helps to increase the pain, because I look upon
myself as bound to render greater service.

12. This invention of Satan is one of the most
painful, subtle, and crafty that I have known him to possess; I should
therefore like to warn you, my father, of it, in order that, if Satan
should tempt you herein, you may have some light, and be aware of his
devices, if your understanding should be left at liberty: because you
must not suppose that learning and knowledge are of any use here; for
though I have none of them myself, yet now that I have escaped out of
his hands I see clearly that this is folly. What I understood by it
is this: that it is our Lord's pleasure to give him leave and license,
as He gave him of old to
tempt Job;[452]
though in my case, because of my wretchedness, the temptation is not
so sharp.

13. It happened to me to be tempted once in
this way; and I remember it was on the day before the vigil of Corpus
Christi,â€”a feast to which I have great devotion, though not so great
as I ought to have. The trial then lasted only till the day of the
feast itself. But, on other occasions, it continued one, two, and
even three weeks andâ€”I know notâ€”perhaps longer. But I was specially
liable to it during the Holy Weeks, when it was my habit to make
prayer my joy. Then the devil seizes on my understanding in a moment;
and occasionally, by means of things so trivial that I should laugh at
them at any other time, he makes it stumble over anything he likes.
The soul, laid in fetters, loses all control over itself, and all
power of thinking of anything but the absurdities he puts before it,
which, being more or less unsubstantial, inconsistent, and
disconnected, serve only to stifle the soul, so that it has no power
over itself; and accordinglyâ€”so it seems to meâ€”the devils make a
football of

it, and the soul is unable to escape out of their hands. It is
impossible to describe the sufferings of the soul in this state. It
goes about in quest of relief, and God suffers it to find none. The
light of reason, in the freedom of its will, remains, but it is not
clear; it seems to me as if its eyes were covered with a veil. As a
person who, having travelled often by a particular road, knows, though
it be night and dark, by his past experience of it, where he may
stumble, and where he ought to be on his guard against that risk,
because he has seen the place by day, so the soul avoids offending
God: it seems to go on by habitâ€”that is, if we put out of sight the
fact that our Lord holds it by the hand, which is the true explanation
of the matter.

14. Faith is then as dead, and asleep, like
all the other virtues; not lost, however,â€”for the soul truly believes
all that the church holds; but its profession of the faith is hardly
more than an outward profession of the mouth. And, on the other hand,
temptations seem to press it down, and make it dull, so that its
knowledge of God becomes to it as that of something which it hears of
far away. So tepid is its love that, when it hears God spoken of, it
listens and believes that He is what He is, because the Church so
teaches; but it recollects nothing of its own former experience.
Vocal prayer or solitude is only a greater affliction, because the
interior sufferingâ€”whence it comes, it knows notâ€”is unendurable,
and, as it seems to me, in some measure a counterpart of hell. So it
is, as our Lord showed me in
a vision;[453]
for the soul itself is then burning in the fire, knowing not who has
kindled it, nor whence it comes, nor how to escape it, nor how to put
it out: if it seeks relief from the fire by spiritual reading, it
cannot find any, just as if it could not read at all. On one
occasion, it occurred to me to read a life of a Saint, that I might
forget myself, and be refreshed with the recital of what he had

suffered. Four or five times, I read as many lines; and, though
they were written in Spanish, I understood them less at the end than I
did when I began: so I gave it up. It so happened to me on more
occasions than one, but I have a more distinct recollection
of this.

15. To converse with any one is worse, for the
devil then sends so offensive a spirit of bad temper, that I think I
could eat people up; nor can I help myself. I feel that I do
something when I keep myself under control; or rather our Lord does
so, when He holds back with His hand any one in this state from saying
or doing something that may be hurtful to his neighbours and offensive
to God. Then, as to going to our confessor, that is of no use; for
the certain result isâ€”and very often has it happened to meâ€”what I
shall now describe. Though my confessors, with whom I had to do then,
and have to do still, are so holy, they spoke to me and reproved me
with such harshness, that they were astonished at it afterwards when I
told them of it. They said that they could not help themselves; for,
though they had resolved not to use such language, and though they
pitied me also very much,â€”yea, even had scruples on the subject,
because of my grievous trials of soul and body,â€”and were, moreover,
determined to console me, they could not refrain. They did not use
unbecoming wordsâ€”I mean, words offensive to God; yet their words were
the most offensive that could be borne with in confession. They must
have aimed at mortifying me. At other times, I used to delight in
this, and was prepared to bear it; but it was then a torment
altogether. I used to think, too, that I deceived them; so I went to
them, and cautioned them very earnestly to be on their guard against
me, for it might be that I deceived them. I saw well enough that I
would not do so advisedly, nor tell them an
untruth;[454] but

everything made me afraid. One of them, on one occasion, when he
had heard me speak of this temptation, told me not to distress myself;
for, even if I wished to deceive him, he had sense enough not to be
deceived. This gave me great comfort.

16. Sometimes, almost always,â€”at least, very
frequently,â€”I used to find rest after Communion; now and then, even,
as I drew near to the most Holy Sacrament, all at once my soul and
body would be so well, that I
was amazed.[455]
It seemed to be nothing else but an instantaneous dispersion of the
darkness that covered my soul: when the sun rose, I saw how silly I
had been.

17. On other occasions, if our Lord spoke to
me but one word, saying only, "Be not distressed, have no
fear,"â€”as I
said before,[456]â€”I was made
whole at once; or, if I saw a vision, I was as if I had never been
amiss. I rejoiced in God, and made my complaint to Him, because He
permitted me to undergo such afflictions; yet the recompense was
great; for almost always, afterwards, His mercies descended upon me in
great abundance. The soul seemed to come forth as gold out of the
crucible, most refined, and made glorious to behold, our Lord dwelling
within it. These trials afterwards are light, though they once seemed
to be unendurable; and the soul longs to undergo them again, if that
be more pleasing to our Lord. And though trials and persecutions
increase, yet, if we bear them without offending our Lord, rejoicing
in suffering for His sake, it will be all the greater gain: I,
however, do not bear them as they ought to be borne, but rather in a
most imperfect way. At other times, my trials came upon meâ€”they come
stillâ€”in another form; and then it seems to me as if the very
possibility of thinking a good thought,

or desiring the accomplishment of it, were utterly taken from me:
both soul and body are altogether useless and a heavy burden. However,
when I am in this state, I do not suffer from the other temptations
and disquietudes, but only from a certain loathing of I know not what,
and my soul finds pleasure in nothing.

18. I used to try exterior good works, in
order to occupy myself partly by violence; and I know well how weak a
soul is when grace is hiding itself. It did not distress me much,
because the sight of my own meanness gave me some satisfaction. On
other occasions, I find myself unable to pray or to fix my thoughts
with any distinctness upon God, or anything that is good, though I may
be alone; but I have a sense that I know Him. It is the understanding
and the imagination, I believe, which hurt me here; for it seems to me
that I have a good will, disposed for all good; but the understanding
is so lost, that it seems to be nothing else but a raving lunatic,
which nobody can restrain, and of which I am not mistress enough to
keep it quiet for
a minute.[457]

19. Sometimes I laugh at myself, and recognise
my wretchedness: I watch my understanding, and leave it alone to see
what it will do. Glory be to God, for a wonder, it never runs on what
is wrong, but only on indifferent things, considering what is going on
here, or there, or elsewhere. I see then, more and more, the
exceeding great mercy of our Lord to me, when He keeps this lunatic
bound in the chains of perfect contemplation. I wonder what would
happen if those people who think I am good knew of my extravagance. I
am very sorry when I see my soul in such bad company; I long to see it
delivered therefrom, and so I say to our Lord: When, O my God, shall I
see my whole soul praising Thee, that it may have the fruition of Thee
in all its faculties? Let me be no longer, O Lord, thus torn to
pieces, and every one of them, as it

were, running in a different direction. This has been often the
case with me, but I think that my scanty bodily health was now and
then enough to bring it about.

20. I dwell much on the harm which original
sin has done us; that is, I believe, what has rendered us incapable of
the fruition of so great a good. My sins, too, must be in fault; for,
if I had not committed so many, I should have been more perfect in
goodness. Another great affliction which I suffered was this: all the
books which I read on the subject of prayer, I thought I understood
thoroughly, and that I required them no longer, because our Lord had
given me the gift of prayer. I therefore ceased to read those books,
and applied myself to lives of Saints, thinking that this would
improve me and give me courage; for I found myself very defective in
every kind of service which the Saints rendered unto God. Then it
struck me that I had very little humility, when I could think that I
had attained to this degree of prayer; and so, when I could not come
to any other conclusion, I was greatly distressed, until certain
learned persons, and the blessed friar, Peter of Alcantara, told me
not to trouble myself about the matter.

21. I see clearly enough that I have not yet
begun to serve God, though He showers down upon me those very graces
which He gives to many good people. I am a mass of imperfection,
except in desire and in love; for herein I see well that our Lord has
been gracious to me, in order that I may please Him in some measure.
I really think that I love Him; but my conduct, and the many
imperfections I discern in myself, make me sad.

22. My soul, also, is subject occasionally to
a certain foolishness,â€”that is the right name to give it,â€”when I
seem to be doing neither good nor evil, but following in the wake of
others, as they say, without pain or pleasure, indifferent to life and
death, pleasure and pain. I seem to have no feeling. The soul
seems to

me like a little ass, which feeds and thrives, because it accepts
the food which is given it, and eats it without reflection. The soul
in this state must be feeding on some great mercies of God, seeing
that its miserable life is no burden to it, and that it bears it
patiently but it is conscious of no sensible movements or results,
whereby it may ascertain the state it is in.

23. It seems to me now like sailing with a
very gentle wind, when one makes much way without knowing how; for in
the other states, so great are the effects, that the soul sees almost
at once an improvement in itself, because the desires instantly are on
fire, and the soul is never satisfied. This comes from those great
impetuosities of love, spoken
of before,[458]
in those to whom God grants them. It is like those little wells I
have seen flowing, wherein the upheaving of the sand never ceases.
This illustration and comparison seem to me to be a true description
of those souls who attain to this state; their love is ever active,
thinking what it may do; it cannot contain itself, as the water
remains not in the earth, but is continually welling upwards. So is
the soul, in general; it is not at rest, nor can it contain itself,
because of the love it has: it is so saturated therewith, that it
would have others drink of it, because there is more than enough for
itself, in order that they might help it to praise God.

24. I call to remembranceâ€”oh, how
often!â€”that living water of which our Lord spoke to the Samaritan
woman. That Gospel[459] has a great attraction
for me; and, indeed, so it had even when I was a little child, though
I did not understand it then as I do now. I used to pray much to our
Lord for that living water; and I had always a picture of it,
representing our Lord at the well, with this inscription, "Domine, da
mihi aquam."[460]

25. This love is also like a great fire, which
requires fuel continually, in order that it may not burn out. So
those souls I am speaking of, however much it may cost them, will
always bring fuel, in order that the fire may not be quenched. As for
me, I should be glad, considering what I am, if I had but straw even
to throw upon it. And so it is with me occasionallyâ€”and, indeed,
very often. At one time, I laugh at myself; and at another, I am very
much distressed. The inward stirring of my love urges me to do
something for the service of God; and I am not able to do more than
adorn images with boughs and flowers, clean or arrange an oratory, or
some such trifling acts, so that I am ashamed of myself. If I
undertook any penitential practice, the whole was so slight, and was
done in such a way, that if our Lord did not accept my good will, I
saw it was all worthless, and so I laughed at myself. The failure of
bodily strength, sufficient to do something for God, is no light
affliction for those souls to whom He, in His goodness, has
communicated this fire of His love in its fulness. It is a very good
penance; for when souls are not strong enough to heap fuel on this
fire, and die of fear that the fire may go out, it seems to me that
they become fuel themselves, are reduced to ashes, or dissolved in
tears, and burn away: and this is suffering enough, though it
be sweet.

26. Let him, then, praise our Lord
exceedingly, who has attained to this state; who has received the
bodily strength requisite for penance; who has learning, ability, and
power to preach, to hear confessions, and to draw souls unto God.
Such a one neither knows nor comprehends the blessing he possesses,
unless he knows by experience what it is to be powerless to serve God
in anything, and at the same time to be receiving much from Him. May
He be blessed for ever, and may the angels glorify Him! Amen.

27. I know not if I do well to write so
much in

detail. But as you, my father, bade me again not to be troubled by
the minuteness of my account, nor to omit anything, I go on recounting
clearly and truly all I can call to mind. But I must omit much; for
if I did not, I should have to spend more timeâ€”and, as I said
before,[461] I have so little to spend, and
perhaps, after all, nothing will be gained.

The Life

Chapter XXXI

Of Certain Outward Temptations and Appearances of Satan. Of
the Sufferings Thereby Occasioned. Counsels for Those Who Go on
Unto Perfection.

Now that I have described certain
temptations and troubles, interior and secret, of which Satan was the
cause, I will speak of others which he wrought almost in public, and
in which his presence could not
be ignored.[462]

2. I was once in an oratory, when Satan, in an
abominable shape, appeared on my left hand. I looked at his mouth in
particular, because he spoke, and it was horrible. A huge flame
seemed to issue out of his body, perfectly bright, without any shadow.
He spoke in a fearful way, and said to me that, though I had escaped
out of his hands, he would yet lay hold of me again. I was in great
terror, made the sign of the cross as well as I could, and then the
form vanishedâ€”but it reappeared instantly. This occurred twice; I
did not know what to do; there was some holy water at hand; I took
some, and threw it in the direction of the figure, and then Satan
never returned.

3. On another occasion, I was tortured
for five

hours with such terrible pains, such inward and outward sufferings,
that it seemed to me as if I could not bear them. Those who were with
me were frightened; they knew not what to do, and I could not help
myself. I am in the habit, when these pains and my bodily suffering
are most unendurable, to make interior acts as well as I can,
imploring our Lord, if it be His will, to give me patience, and then
to let me suffer on, even to the end of the world. So, when I found
myself suffering so cruelly, I relieved myself by making those acts
and resolutions, in order that I might be able to endure the pain. It
pleased our Lord to let me understand that it was the work of Satan;
for I saw close beside me a most frightful little negro, gnashing his
teeth in despair at losing what he attempted to seize. When I saw
him, I laughed, and had no fear; for there were some then present who
were helpless, and knew of no means whereby so great a pain could be
relieved. My body, head, and arms were violently shaken; I could not
help myself: but the worst of all was the interior pain, for I could
find no ease in any way. Nor did I dare to ask for holy water, lest
those who were with me should be afraid, and find out what the matter
really was.

4. I know by frequent experience that there is
nothing which puts the devils to flight like holy water. They run
away before the sign of the cross also, but they return immediately:
great, then, must be the power of holy water. As for me, my soul is
conscious of a special and most distinct consolation whenever I take
it. Indeed, I feel almost always a certain refreshing, which I cannot
describe, together with an inward joy, which comforts my whole soul.
This is no fancy, nor a thing which has occurred once only; for it has
happened very often, and I have watched it very carefully. I may
compare what I feel with that which happens to a person in great heat,
and very thirsty, drinking a cup of cold waterâ€”his whole being

is refreshed. I consider that everything ordained by the Church is
very important; and I have a joy in reflecting that the words of the
Church are so mighty, that they endow water with power, so that there
shall be so great a difference between holy water and water that has
never been blessed. Then, as my pains did not cease, I told them, if
they would not laugh, I would ask for some holy water. They brought
me some, and sprinkled me with it; but I was no better. I then threw
some myself in the direction of the negro, when he fled in a moment.
All my sufferings ceased, just as if some one had taken them from me
with his hand; only I was wearied, as if I had been beaten with many
blows. It was of great service to me to learn that if, by our Lord's
permission, Satan can do so much evil to a soul and body not in his
power, he can do much more when he has them in his possession. It
gave me a renewed desire to be delivered from a fellowship
so dangerous.

5. Another time, and not long ago, the same
thing happened to me, though it did not last so long, and I was alone
at the moment. I asked for holy water; and they who came in after the
devil had gone away,â€”they were two nuns, worthy of all credit, and
would not tell a lie for anything,â€”perceived a most offensive smell,
like that of brimstone. I smelt nothing myself; but the odour lasted
long enough to become sensible to them.

6. On another occasion, I was in choir, when,
in a moment, I became profoundly recollected. I went out in order
that the sisters might know nothing of it; yet those who were near
heard the sound of heavy blows where I was, and I heard voices myself,
as of persons in consultation, but I did not hear what they said: I
was so absorbed in prayer that I understood nothing, neither was I at
all afraid. This took place almost always when our Lord was pleased
that some soul or other, persuaded by me, advanced in the

spiritual life. Certainly, what I am now about to describe
happened to me once; there are witnesses to testify to it,
particularly my present confessor, for he saw the account in a letter.
I did not tell him from whom the letter came, but he knew perfectly
who the person was.

7. There came to me a person who, for two years
and a half, had been living in mortal sin of the most abominable
nature I ever heard. During the whole of that time, he neither
confessed it nor ceased from it; and yet he said Mass. He confessed
his other sins but of this one he used to say, How can I confess so
foul a sin? He wished to give it up, but he could not prevail on
himself to do so. I was very sorry for him, and it was a great grief
to me to see God offended in such a way. I promised him that I would
pray to God for his amendment, and get others who were better than I
to do the same. I wrote to one person, and the priest undertook to
get the letter delivered. It came to pass that he made a full
confession at the first opportunity; for our Lord God was pleased, on
account of the prayers of those most holy persons to whom I had
recommended him, to have pity on this soul. I, too, wretched as I am,
did all I could for the same end.

8. He wrote to me, and said that he was so far
improved, that he had not for some days repeated his sin; but he was
so tormented by the temptation, that it seemed to him as if he were in
hell already, so great were his sufferings. He asked me to pray to
God for him. I recommended him to my sisters, through whose prayers I
must have obtained this mercy from our Lord; for they took the matter
greatly to heart; and he was a person whom no one could find out. I
implored His Majesty to put an end to these torments and temptations,
and to let the evil spirits torment me instead, provided I did not
offend our Lord. Thus it was that for one month I was most
grievously tormented;

and then it was that these two assaults of Satan, of which I have
just spoken, took place.

9. Our Lord was pleased to deliver him out of
this temptation, so I was informed; for I told him what happened to
myself that month. His soul gained strength, and he continued free;
he could never give thanks enough to our Lord and to me as if I had
been of any serviceâ€”unless it be that the belief he had that our Lord
granted me such graces was of some advantage to him. He said that,
when he saw himself in great straits, he would read my letters, and
then the temptation left him. He was very much astonished at my
sufferings, and at the manner of his own deliverance: even I myself am
astonished, and I would suffer as much for many years for the
deliverance of that soul. May our Lord be praised for ever! for the
prayers of those who serve Him can do great things; and I believe the
sisters of this house do serve Him. The devils must have been more
angry with me only because I asked them to pray, and because our Lord
permitted it on account of my sins. At that time, too, I thought the
evil spirits would have suffocated me one night, and when the sisters
threw much holy water about I saw a great troop of them rush away as
if tumbling over a precipice. These cursed spirits have tormented me
so often, and I am now so little afraid of them,â€”because I see they
cannot stir without our Lord's permission,â€”that I should weary both
you, my father, and myself, if I were to speak of these things
in detail.

10. May this I have written be of use to the
true servant of God, who ought to despise these terrors, which Satan
sends only to make him afraid! Let him understand that each time we
despise those terrors, their force is lessened, and the soul gains
power over them. There is always some great good obtained; but I will
not speak of it, that I may not be too diffuse. I will speak,
however, of what happened to me once

on the night of All Souls. I was in an oratory, and, having said
one Nocturn, was saying some very devotional prayers at the end of our
Breviary, when Satan put himself on the book before me, to prevent my
finishing my prayer. I made the sign of the cross, and he went away.
I then returned to my prayer, and he, too, came back; he did so, I
believe, three times, and I was not able to finish the prayer without
throwing holy water at him. I saw certain souls at that moment come
forth out of purgatoryâ€”they must have been near their deliverance,
and I thought that Satan might in this way have been trying to hinder
their release. It is very rarely that I saw Satan assume a bodily
form; I know of his presence through the vision I have spoken of
before,[463] the vision wherein no form
is seen.

11. I wish also to relate what follows, for I
was greatly alarmed at it: on Trinity Sunday, in the choir of a
certain monastery, and in a trance, I saw a great fight between evil
spirits and the angels. I could not make out what the vision meant.
In less than a fortnight, it was explained clearly enough by the
dispute that took place between persons given to prayer and many who
were not, which did great harm to that house; for it was a dispute
that lasted long and caused much trouble. On another occasion, I saw
a great multitude of evil spirits round about me, and, at the same
time, a great light, in which I was enveloped, which kept them from
coming near me. I understood it to mean that God was watching over
me, that they might not approach me so as to make me offend Him. I
knew the vision was real by what I saw occasionally in myself. The
fact is, I know now how little power the evil spirits have, provided I
am not out of the grace of God; I have scarcely any fear of them at
all, for their strength is as nothing, if they do not find the souls
they assail give up the contest, and become

cowards; it is in this case that they show their power.

12. Now and then, during the temptations I am
speaking of, it seemed to me as if all my vanity and weakness in times
past had become alive again within me; so I had reason enough to
commit myself into the hands of God. Then I was tormented by the
thought that, as these things came back to my memory, I must be
utterly in the power of Satan, until my confessor consoled me; for I
imagined that even the first movement towards an evil thought ought
not to have come near one who had received from our Lord such great
graces as I had.

13. At other times, I was much tormentedâ€”and
even now I am tormentedâ€”when I saw people make much of me,
particularly great people, and when they spake well of me. I have
suffered, and still suffer, much in this way. I think at once of the
life of Christ and of the Saints, and then my life seems the reverse
of theirs, for they received nothing but contempt and ill-treatment.
All this makes me afraid; I dare not lift up my head, and I wish
nobody saw me at all. It is not thus with me when I am persecuted;
then my soul is so conscious of strength, though the body suffers, and
though I am in other ways afflicted, that I do not know how this can
be; but so it is,â€”and my soul seems then to be a queen in its
kingdom, having everything under its feet.

14. I had such a thought now and thenâ€”and,
indeed, for many days together. I regarded it as a sign of virtue and
of humility; but I see clearly now it was nothing else but a
temptation. A Dominican friar, of great learning, showed it to me
very plainly. When I considered that the graces which our Lord had
bestowed upon me might come to the knowledge of the public, my
sufferings became so excessive as greatly to disturb my soul. They
went so far, that I made up my mind, while thinking of it, that I
would rather be buried alive than have these things known.
And so,

when I began to be profoundly recollected, or to fall into a
trance, which I could not resist even in public, I was so ashamed of
myself, that I would not appear where people might see me.

15. Once, when I was much distressed at this,
our Lord said to me, What was I afraid of? one of two things must
happenâ€”people would either speak ill of me, or give glory to Him. He
made me understand by this, that those who believed in the truth of
what was going on in me would glorify Him; and that those who did not
would condemn me without cause: in both ways I should be the gainer,
and I was therefore not to
distress myself.[464]
This made me quite calm, and it comforts me whenever I think
of it.

16. This temptation became so excessive, that
I wished to leave the house, and take my dower to another monastery,
where enclosure was more strictly observed than in that wherein I was
at this time. I had heard great things of that other house, which was
of the same Order as mine; it was also at a great distance, and it
would have been a great consolation to me to live where I was not
known; but my confessor would never let me go. These fears deprived
me in a great measure of all liberty of spirit; and I understood
afterwards that this was not true humility, because it disturbed me so
much. And our Lord taught me this truth; if I was convinced, and
certainly persuaded, that all that was good in me came wholly and only
from God, and if it did not distress me to hear the praises of
others,â€”yea, rather, if I was pleased and comforted when I saw that
God was working in them,â€”then neither should I be distressed if He
showed forth His works in me.

17. I fell, too, into another extreme. I
begged of God, and made it a particular subject of prayer, that it
might please His Majesty, whenever any one saw any good in me, that
such a one might also become

acquainted with my sins, in order that he might see that His graces
were bestowed on me without any merit on my part: and I always greatly
desire this. My confessor told me not to do it. But almost to this
day, if I saw that any one thought well of me, I used in a roundabout
way, or any how, as I could, to contrive he should know of my
sins:[465] that seemed to relieve me. But they
have made me very scrupulous on this point. This, it appears to me,
was not an effect of humility, but oftentimes the result of
temptation. It seemed to me that I was deceiving everybodyâ€”though,
in truth, they deceived themselves, by thinking that there was any
good in me.[466] I did not wish to deceive
them, nor did I ever attempt it, only our Lord permitted it for some
end; and so, even with my confessors, I never discussed any of these
matters if I did not see the necessity of it, for that would have
occasioned very considerable scruples.

18. All these little fears and distresses, and
semblance of humility, I now see clearly were mere imperfections, and
the result of my unmortified life; for a soul left in the hands of God
cares nothing about evil or good report, if it clearly comprehends,
when our Lord is pleased to bestow upon it His grace, that it has
nothing of its own. Let it trust the Giver; it will know hereafter
why He reveals His gifts, and prepare itself for persecution, which in
these times is sure to come, when it is our Lord's will it should be
known of any one that He bestows upon him graces such as these; for a
thousand eyes are watching that soul, while a thousand souls of
another order are observed of none. In truth, there was no little
ground for fear, and that fear should have been mine: I was therefore
not humble, but a coward; for a soul which God permits to be thus seen
of men may well prepare itself to be the world's martyrâ€”because, if
it will not die to the world voluntarily, that very world will
kill it.

19. Certainly, I see nothing in the world that
seems to me good except this, that it tolerates no faults in good
people, and helps them to perfection by dint of complaints against
them. I mean, that it requires greater courage in one not yet perfect
to walk in the way of perfection than to undergo an instant martyrdom;
for perfection is not attained to at once, unless our Lord grant that
grace by a special privilege: yet the world, when it sees any one
beginning to travel on that road, insists on his becoming perfect at
once, and a thousand leagues off detects in him a fault, which after
all may be a virtue. He who finds fault is doing the very same
thing,â€”but, in his own case, viciously,â€”and he pronounces it to be
so wrong in the other. He who aims at perfection, then, must neither
eat nor sleep,â€”nor, as they say, even breathe; and the more men
respect such a one, the more do they forget that he is still in the
body; and, though they may consider him perfect, he is living on the
earth, subject to its miseries, however much he may tread them under
his feet. And so, as I have just said, great courage is necessary here
for, though the poor soul have not yet begun to walk, the world will
have it fly; and, though its passions be not wholly overcome, men will
have it that they must be under restraint, even upon trying occasions,
as those of the Saints are, of whom they read, after they are
confirmed in grace.

20. All this is a reason for praising God, and
also for great sorrow of heart, because very many go backwards who,
poor souls, know not how to help themselves; and I too, I believe,
would have gone back also, if our Lord had not so mercifully on His
part done everything for me. And until He, of His goodness, had done
all, nothing was done by me, as you, my father, may have seen already,
beyond falling and rising again. I wish I knew how to explain it,
because many souls, I believe, delude themselves in this matter; they
would fly before God gives them wings.

21. I believe I have made this comparison on
another occasion,[467] but it is to the purpose
here, for I see certain souls are very greatly afflicted on that
ground. When these souls begin, with great fervour, courage, and
desire, to advance in virtue,â€”some of them, at least outwardly,
giving up all for God,â€”when they see in others, more advanced than
themselves, greater fruits of virtue given them by our Lord,â€”for we
cannot acquire these of ourselves,â€”when they see in all the books
written on prayer and on contemplation an account of what we have to
do in order to attain thereto, but which they cannot accomplish
themselves,â€”they lose heart. For instance, they read that we must
not be troubled when men speak ill of us, that we are to be then more
pleased than when they speak well of us; that we must despise our own
good name, be detached from our kindred; avoid their company, which
should be wearisome to us, unless they be given to prayer; with many
other things of the same kind. The disposition to practise this must
be, in my opinion, the gift of God; for it seems to me a supernatural
good, contrary to our natural inclinations. Let them not distress
themselves; let them trust in our Lord: what they now desire, His
Majesty will enable them to attain to by prayer, and by doing what
they can themselves; for it is very necessary for our weak nature that
we should have great confidence, that we should not be fainthearted,
nor suppose that, if we do our best, we shall fail to obtain the
victory at last. And as my experience here is large, I will say, by
way of caution to you, my father, do not thinkâ€”though it may seem
soâ€”that a virtue is acquired when we have not tested it by its
opposing vice: we must always be suspicious of ourselves, and never
negligent while we live; for much evil clings to us if, as I said
before,[468] grace be not given to us fully to
understand what everything is: and in this life there is nothing
without great risks.

22. I thought a few years ago, not only that I
was detached from my kindred, but that they were a burden to me; and
certainly it was so, for I could not endure their conversation. An
affair of some importance had to be settled, and I had to remain with
a sister of mine, for whom I had always before had a great affection.
The conversation we had together, though she is better than I am, did
not please me; for it could not always be on subjects I preferred,
owing to the difference of our conditionsâ€”she being married. I was
therefore as much alone as I could; yet I felt that her troubles gave
me more trouble than did those of my neighbours, and even some
anxiety. In short, I found out that I was not so detached as I
thought, and that it was necessary for me to flee from dangerous
occasions, in order that the virtue which our Lord had begun to
implant in me might grow; and so, by His help, I have striven to do
from that time till now.

23. If our Lord bestows any virtue upon us, we
must make much of it, and by no means run the risk of losing it; so it
is in those things which concern our good name, and many other
matters. You, my father, must believe that we are not all of us
detached, though we think we are; it is necessary for us never to be
careless on this point. If any one detects in himself any tenderness
about his good name, and yet wishes to advance in the spiritual life,
let him believe me and throw this embarrassment behind his back, for
it is a chain which no file can sever; only the help of God, obtained
by prayer and much striving on his part, can do it. It seems to me to
be a hindrance on the road, and I am astonished at the harm it does.
I see some persons so holy in their works, and they are so great as to
fill people with wonder. O my God, why is their soul still on the
earth? Why has it not arrived at the summit of perfection? What does
it mean? What keeps him back who does so much for God?

Oh, there it is!â€”self-respect! and the worst of it is, that these
persons will not admit that they have it, merely because Satan now and
then convinces them that they are under an obligation to
observe it.

24. Well, then, let them believe me: for the
love of our Lord, let them give heed to the little ant, who speaks
because it is His pleasure. If they take not this caterpillar away,
though it does not hurt the whole tree, because some virtues remain,
the worm will eat into every one of them. Not only is the tree not
beautiful, but it also never thrives, neither does it suffer the
others near it to thrive; for the fruit of good example which it bears
is not sound, and endures but a short time. I say it again and again,
let our self-respect be ever so slight, it will have the same result
as the missing of a note on the organ when it is played,â€”the whole
music is out of tune. It is a thing which hurts the soul exceedingly
in every way, but it is a pestilence in the way of prayer.

25. Are we striving after union with God? and
do we wish to follow the counsels of Christ,â€”who was loaded with
reproaches and falsely accused,â€”and, at the same time, to keep our
own reputation and credit untouched? We cannot succeed, for these
things are inconsistent one with another. Our Lord comes to the soul
when we do violence to ourselves, and strive to give up our rights in
many things. Some will say, I have nothing that I can give up, nor
have I any opportunity of doing so. I believe that our Lord will
never suffer any one who has made so good a resolution as this to miss
so great a blessing. His Majesty will make so many arrangements for
him, whereby he may acquire this virtue,â€”more frequently, perhaps,
than he will like. Let him put his hand to the work. I speak of the
little nothings and trifles which I gave up when I beganâ€”or, at
least, of some of them: the straws which I
said[469] I threw into the fire; for I am

not able to do more. All this our Lord accepted: may He be blessed
for evermore!

26. One of my faults was this: I had a very
imperfect knowledge of my Breviary and of my duties in choir, simply
because I was careless and given to vanities; and I knew the other
novices could have taught me. But I never asked them, that they might
not know how little I knew. It suggested itself to me at once, that I
ought to set a good example: this is very common. Now, however, that
God has opened my eyes a little, even when I know a thing, but yet am
very slightly in doubt about it, I ask the children. I have lost
neither honour nor credit by itâ€”on the contrary, I believe our Lord
has been pleased to strengthen my memory. My singing of the Office
was bad, and I felt it much if I had not learned the part intrusted to
me,â€”not because I made mistakes before our Lord, which would have
been a virtue, but because I made them before the many nuns who heard
me. I was so full of my own reputation, that I was disturbed, and
therefore did not sing what I had to sing even so well as I might have
done. Afterwards, I ventured, when I did not know it very well, to
say so. At first, I felt it very much; but afterwards I found
pleasure in doing it. So, when I began to be indifferent about its
being known that I could not sing well, it gave me no pain at all, and
I sang much better. This miserable self-esteem took from me the power
of doing that which I regarded as an honour, for every one regards as
honourable that which he likes.

27. By trifles such as these, which are
nothing,â€”and I am altogether nothing myself, seeing that this gave me
pain,â€”by little and little, doing such actions, and by such slight
performances,â€”they become of worth because done for God,â€”His Majesty
helps us on towards greater things; and so it happened to me in the
matter of humility. When I saw that all the nuns except myself were
making great progress,â€”I

was always myself good for nothing,â€”I used to fold up their
mantles when they left the choir. I looked on myself as doing service
to angels who had been there praising God. I did so till theyâ€”I know
not howâ€”found it out; and then I was not a little ashamed, because my
virtue was not strong enough to bear that they should know of it. But
the shame arose, not because I was humble, but because I was afraid
they would laugh at me, the matter being so trifling.

28. O Lord, what a shame for me to lay bare so
much wickedness, and to number these grains of sand, which yet I did
not raise up from the ground in Thy service without mixing them with a
thousand meannesses! The waters of Thy grace were not as yet flowing
beneath them, so as to make them ascend upwards. O my Creator, oh,
that I had anything worth recounting amid so many evil things, when I
am recounting the great mercies I received at Thy hands! So it is, O
my Lord. I know not how my heart could have borne it, nor how any one
who shall read this can help having me in abhorrence when he sees that
mercies so great had been so ill-requited, and that I have not been
ashamed to speak of these services. Ah! they are only mine, O my
Lord; but I am ashamed I have nothing else to say of myself; and that
it is that makes me speak of these wretched beginnings, in order that
he who has begun more nobly may have hope that our Lord, who has made
much of mine, will make more of his. May it please His Majesty to
give me this grace, that I may not remain for ever at the
beginning! Amen.[470]

The Life

Chapter XXXII

Our Lord Shows St. Teresa the Place
Which She Had by Her Sins Deserved in Hell. The Torments There. How
the Monastery of St. Joseph
Was Founded.

Some considerable time after our Lord had
bestowed upon me the graces I have been describing, and others also of
a higher nature, I was one day in prayer when I found myself in a
moment, without knowing how, plunged apparently into hell. I
understood that it was our Lord's will I should see the place which
the devils kept in readiness for me, and which I had deserved by my
sins. It was but a moment, but it seems to me impossible I should
ever forget it even if I were to live many years.

2. The entrance seemed to be by a long narrow
pass, like a furnace, very low, dark, and close. The ground seemed to
be saturated with water, mere mud, exceedingly foul, sending forth
pestilential odours, and covered with loathsome vermin. At the end
was a hollow place in the wall, like a closet, and in that I saw
myself confined. All this was even pleasant to behold in comparison
with what I felt there. There is no exaggeration in what I
am saying.

3. But as to what I then felt, I do not know
where to begin, if I were to describe it; it is utterly inexplicable.
I felt a fire in my soul. I cannot see how it is possible to describe
it. My bodily sufferings were unendurable. I have undergone most
painful sufferings in this life, and, as the physicians say, the
greatest that can be borne, such as the contraction of my sinews when
I was paralysed,[471] without speaking of others
of different kinds, yea, even those of which I have also
spoken,[472] inflicted on me by Satan;
yet all

these were as nothing in comparison with what I felt then,
especially when I saw that there would be no intermission, nor any end
to them.

4. These sufferings were nothing in comparison
with the anguish of my soul, a sense of oppression, of stifling, and
of pain so keen, accompanied by so hopeless and cruel an infliction,
that I know not how to speak of it. If I said that the soul is
continually being torn from the body, it would be nothing, for that
implies the destruction of life by the hands of another but here it is
the soul itself that is tearing itself in pieces. I cannot describe
that inward fire or that despair, surpassing all torments and all
pain. I did not see who it was that tormented me, but I felt myself
on fire, and torn to pieces, as it seemed to me; and, I repeat it,
this inward fire and despair are the greatest torments of all.

5. Left in that pestilential place, and utterly
without the power to hope for comfort, I could neither sit nor lie
down: there was no room. I was placed as it were in a hole in the
wall; and those walls, terrible to look on of themselves, hemmed me in
on every side. I could not breathe. There was no light, but all was
thick darkness. I do not understand how it is; though there was no
light, yet everything that can give pain by being seen
was visible.

6. Our Lord at that time would not let me see
more of hell. Afterwards, I had another most fearful vision, in which
I saw the punishment of certain sins. They were most horrible to look
at; but, because I felt none of the pain, my terror was not so great.
In the former vision, our Lord made me really feel those torments, and
that anguish of spirit, just as if I had been suffering them in the
body there. I know not how it was, but I understood distinctly that
it was a great mercy that our Lord would have me see with mine own
eyes the very place from which His compassion saved me. I have
listened to people speaking of these things, and I have

at other times dwelt on the various torments of hell, though not
often, because my soul made no progress by the way of fear; and I have
read of the diverse tortures, and how the devils tear the flesh with
red-hot pincers. But all is as nothing before this; it is a wholly
different matter. In short, the one is a reality, the other a
picture; and all burning here in this life is as nothing in comparison
with the fire that is there.

7. I was so terrified by that vision,â€”and that
terror is on me even now while I am writing,â€”that, though it took
place nearly six
years ago,[473] the natural
warmth of my body is chilled by fear even now when I think of it. And
so, amid all the pain and suffering which I may have had to bear, I
remember no time in which I do not think that all we have to suffer in
this world is as nothing. It seems to me that we complain without
reason. I repeat it, this vision was one of the grandest mercies of
our Lord. It has been to me of the greatest service, because it has
destroyed my fear of trouble and of the contradiction of the world,
and because it has made me strong enough to bear up against them, and
to give thanks to our Lord, who has been my Deliverer, as it now seems
to me, from such fearful and everlasting pains.

8. Ever since that time, as I was saying,
everything seems endurable in comparison with one instant of suffering
such as those I had then to bear in hell. I am filled with fear when
I see that, after frequently reading books which describe in some
manner the pains of hell, I was not afraid of them, nor made any
account of them. Where was I? How could I possibly take any pleasure
in those things which led me directly to so dreadful a place? Blessed
for ever be Thou, O my God! and, oh, how manifest is it that Thou
didst love me much more than I did love Thee! How often, O Lord,
didst Thou save me from that fearful prison! and how I used to get
back to it contrary to Thy will.

9. It was that vision that filled me with the
very great distress which I feel at the sight of so many lost
souls,â€”especially of the Lutherans,â€”for they were once members of
the Church by baptism,â€”and also gave me the most vehement desires for
the salvation of souls; for certainly I believe that, to save even one
from those overwhelming torments, I would most willingly endure many
deaths. If here on earth we see one whom we specially love in great
trouble or pain, our very nature seems to bid us compassionate him;
and if those pains be great, we are troubled ourselves. What, then,
must it be to see a soul in danger of pain, the most grievous of all
pains, for ever? Who can endure it? It is a thought no heart can
bear without great anguish. Here we know that pain ends with life at
last, and that there are limits to it; yet the sight of it moves our
compassion so greatly. That other pain has no ending; and I know not
how we can be calm, when we see Satan carry so many souls
daily away.

10. This also makes me wish that, in a matter
which concerns us so much, we did not rest satisfied with doing less
than we can do on our part,â€”that we left nothing undone. May our
Lord vouchsafe to give us His grace for that end! When I consider
that, notwithstanding my very great wickedness, I took some pains to
please God, and abstained from certain things which I know the world
makes light of,â€”that, in short, I suffered grievous infirmities, and
with great patience, which our Lord gave me; that I was not inclined
to murmur or to speak ill of anybody; that I could notâ€”I believe
soâ€”wish harm to any one; that I was not, to the best of my
recollection, either avaricious or envious, so as to be grievously
offensive in the sight of God; and that I was free from many other
faults,â€”for, though so wicked, I had lived constantly in the fear of
God,â€”I had to look at the very place which the devils kept ready for
me. It is true that, considering my faults, I had deserved a
still heavier

chastisement; but for all that, I repeat it, the torment was
fearful, and we run a great risk whenever we please ourselves. No
soul should take either rest or pleasure that is liable to fall every
moment into mortal sin. Let us, then, for the love of God, avoid all
occasions of sin, and our Lord will help us, as He has helped me. May
it please His Majesty never to let me out of His hands, lest I should
turn back and fall, now that I have seen the place where I must dwell
if I do. I entreat our Lord, for His Majesty's sake, never to permit
it. Amen.

11. When I had seen this vision, and had
learned other great and hidden things which our Lord, of His goodness,
was pleased to show me,â€”namely, the joy of the blessed and the
torment of the wicked,â€”I longed for the way and the means of doing
penance for the great evil I had done, and of meriting in some degree,
so that I might gain so great a good; and therefore I wished to avoid
all society, and to withdraw myself utterly from the world. I was in
spirit restless, yet my restlessness was not harassing, but rather
pleasant. I saw clearly that it was the work of God, and that His
Majesty had furnished my soul with fervour, so that I might be able to
digest other and stronger food than I had been accustomed to eat. I
tried to think what I could do for God, and thought that the first
thing was to follow my vocation to a religious life, which His Majesty
had given me, by keeping my rule in the greatest
perfection possible.

12. Though in that house in which I then lived
there were many servants of God, and God was greatly served therein,
yet, because it was very poor, the nuns left it very often and went to
other places, where, however, we could serve God in all honour and
observances of religion. The rule also was kept, not in its original
exactness, but according to the custom of the whole Order, authorised
by the Bull of Mitigation. There were other inconveniences also: we
had too many

comforts, as it seemed to me; for the house was large and pleasant.
But this inconvenience of going out, though it was I that took most
advantage of it, was a very grievous one for me; for many persons, to
whom my superiors could not say no, were glad to have me with them.
My superiors, thus importuned, commanded me to visit these persons;
and thus it was so arranged that I could not be long together in the
monastery. Satan, too, must have had a share in this, in order that I
might not be in the house, where I was of great service to those of my
sisters to whom I continually communicated the instructions which I
received from my confessors.

13. It occurred once to a person with whom I
was speaking to say to me and the others that it was possible to find
means for the foundation of a monastery, if we were prepared to become
nuns like those of the
Barefooted Orders.[474]
I, having this desire, began to discuss the matter with that widowed
lady who was my companion,â€”I have spoken of her
before,[475]â€”and she had the same wish that I
had. She began to consider how to provide a revenue for the home. I
see now that this was not the way,â€”only the wish we had to do so made
us think it was; but I, on the other hand, seeing that I took the
greatest delight in the house in which I was then living, because it
was very pleasant to me, and, in my own cell, most convenient for my
purpose, still held back. Nevertheless, we agreed to commit the
matter with all earnestness to God.

14. One day, after Communion, our Lord
commanded me to labour with all my might for this end. He made me
great promises,â€”that the monastery would be certainly built; that He
would take great delight therein; that it should be called St. Joseph's;

that St. Joseph would keep guard at one
door, and our Lady at the other; that Christ would be in the midst of
us; that the monastery would be a star shining in great splendour;
that, though the religious Orders were then relaxed, I was not to
suppose that He was scantily served in them,â€”for what would become of
the world, if there were no religious in it?â€”I was to tell my
confessor what He commanded me, and that He asked him not to oppose
nor thwart me in the matter.

15. So efficacious was the vision, and such
was the nature of the words our Lord spoke to me, that I could not
possibly doubt that they came from Him. I suffered most keenly,
because I saw in part the great anxieties and troubles that the work
would cost me, and I was also very happy in the house I was in then;
and though I used to speak of this matter in past times, yet it was
not with resolution nor with any confidence that the thing could ever
be done. I saw that I was now in a great strait; and when I saw that
I was entering on a work of great anxiety, I hesitated; but our Lord
spoke of it so often to me, and set before me so many reasons and
motives, which I saw could not be gainsaid,â€”I saw, too, that such was
His will; so I did not dare do otherwise than put the whole matter
before my confessor, and give him an account in writing of all that
took place.

16. My confessor did not venture definitely to
bid me abandon my purpose; but he saw that naturally there was no way
of carrying it out; because my friend, who was to do it, had very
little or no means available for that end. He told me to lay the
matter before
my superior,[476] and do what he
might bid me do. I never spoke of my visions to my superior, but that
lady who desired to found the monastery communicated with him. The
Provincial was very much pleased,

for he loves the whole Order, gave her every help that was
necessary, and promised to acknowledge the house. Then there was a
discussion about the revenues of the monastery, and for many reasons
we never would allow more than thirteen sisters together. Before we
began our arrangements, we wrote to the holy friar, Peter of
Alcantara, telling him all that was taking place; and he advised us
not to abandon our work, and gave us his sanction on all points.

17. As soon as the affair began to be known
here, there fell upon us a violent persecution, which cannot be very
easily describedâ€”sharp sayings and keen jests. People said it was
folly in me, who was so well off in my monastery; as to my friend, the
persecution was so continuous, that it wearied her. I did not know
what to do, and I thought that people were partly in the right. When
I was thus heavily afflicted, I commended myself to God, and His
Majesty began to console and encourage me. He told me that I could
then see what the Saints had to go through who founded the religious
Orders: that I had much heavier persecutions to endure than I could
imagine, but I was not to mind them. He told me also what I was to
say to my friend; and what surprised me most was, that we were
consoled at once as to the past, and resolved to withstand everybody
courageously. And so it came to pass; for among people of prayer, and
indeed in the whole neighbourhood, there was hardly one who was not
against us, and who did not think our work the greatest folly.

18. There was so much talking and confusion in
the very monastery wherein I was, that the Provincial began to think
it hard for him to set himself against everybody; so he changed his
mind, and would not acknowledge the new house. He said that the
revenue was not certain, and too little, while the opposition was
great. On the whole, it seemed that he was right; he gave it up at
last, and would have nothing to do

with it. It was a very great pain to us,â€”for we seemed now to
have received the first blow,â€”and in particular to me, to find the
Provincial against us; for when he approved of the plan, I considered
myself blameless before all. They would not give absolution to my
friend, if she did not abandon the project; for they said she was
bound to remove the scandal.

19. She went to a very learned man, and a very
great servant of God, of the Order of St. Dominic,[477] to whom
she gave an account of all this matter. This was even before the
Provincial had withdrawn his consent; for in this place we had no one
who would give us advice; and so they said that it all proceeded
solely from our obstinacy. That lady gave an account of everything,
and told the holy man how much she received from the property of her
husband. Having, a great desire that he would help us,â€”for he was
the most learned man here, and there are few in his Order more learned
than he,â€”I told him myself all we intended to do, and some of my
motives. I never said a word of any revelation whatever, speaking
only of the natural reasons which influenced me; for I would not have
him give an opinion otherwise than on those grounds. He asked us to
give him eight days before he answered, and also if we had made up our
minds to abide by what he might say. I said we had; but though I said
so, and though I thought so, I never lost a certain confidence that
the monastery would be founded. My friend had more faith than I;
nothing they could say could make her give it up. As for myself,
though, as I said, it seemed to me impossible that the work should be
finally abandoned, yet my belief in the truth of the revelation went
no further than in so far as it was not against what is contained in
the sacred writings, nor against the laws of the Church, which we are
bound to keep. Though the revelation seemed to me to have come
really from

God, yet, if that learned man had told me that we could not go on
without offending God and going against our conscience, I believe I
should have given it up, and looked out for some other way; but our
Lord showed me no other way than this.

20. The servant of God told me afterwards that
he had made up his mind to insist on the abandonment of our project,
for he had already heard the popular cry: moreover, he, as everybody
did, thought it folly; and a certain nobleman also, as soon as he knew
that we had gone to him, had sent him word to consider well what he
was doing, and to give us no help; that when he began to consider the
answer he should make us, and to ponder on the matter, the object we
had in view, our manner of life, and the Order, he became convinced
that it was greatly for the service of God, and that we must not give
it up. Accordingly, his answer was that we should make haste to
settle the matter. He told us how and in what way it was to be done;
and if our means were scanty, we must trust somewhat in God. If
anyone made any objections, they were to go to himâ€”he would answer
them; and in this way he always helped us, as I shall show by
and by.[478]

21. This answer was a great comfort to us; so
also was the conduct of certain holy persons who were usually against
us: they were now pacified, and some of them even helped us. One of
them was the
saintly nobleman[479] of whom I
spoke before;[480] he looked on itâ€”so,
indeed, it wasâ€”as a means of great perfection, because the whole
foundation was laid in prayer. He saw also very many difficulties
before us, and no way out of them,â€”yet he gave up his own opinion,
and admitted that the work might be of God. Our Lord Himself must
have touched his heart, as He also did that of the doctor, the priest
and servant of God, to

whom, as I
said before,[481] I first spoke,
who is an example to the whole city,â€”being one whom God maintains
there for the relief and progress of many souls: he, too, came now to
give us his assistance.

22. When matters had come to this state, and
always with the help of many prayers, we purchased a house in a
convenient spot; and though it was small, I cared not at all for that,
for our Lord had told me to go into it as well as I could,â€”that I
should see afterwards what He would do; and how well I have seen it!
I saw, too, how scanty were our means; and yet I believed our Lord
would order these things by other ways, and be gracious unto us.

The Life

Chapter XXXIII

The Foundation of the Monastery Hindered. Our Lord Consoles
the Saint.

When the matter was in this stateâ€”so near
its conclusion, that on the very next day the papers were to be
signedâ€”then it was that the Father Provincial changed his mind. I
believe that the change was divinely orderedâ€”so it appeared
afterwards; for while so many prayers were made, our Lord was
perfecting His work and arranging its execution in another way. When
the Provincial refused us, my confessor bade me forthwith to think no
more of it, notwithstanding the great trouble and distress which our
Lord knows it cost me to bring it to this state. When the work was
given up and abandoned, people were the more convinced that it was
altogether the foolishness of women; and the complaints against me
were multiplied, although I had until then this commandment of my
Provincial to justify me.

2. I was now very much disliked throughout the
whole monastery, because I wished to found another with stricter
enclosure. It was said I insulted my sisters; that I could serve God
among them as well as elsewhere, for there were many among them much
better than I; that I did not love the house, and that it would have
been better if I had procured greater resources for it than for
another. Some said I ought to be put in prison; othersâ€”but they were
not manyâ€”defended me in some degree. I saw well enough that they
were for the most part right, and now and then I made excuses for
myself; though, as I could not tell them the chief reason, which was
the commandment of our Lord, I knew not what to do, and so
was silent.

3. In other respects God was most merciful unto
me, for all this caused me no uneasiness; and I gave up our design
with much readiness and joy, as if it cost me nothing. No one could
believe it, not even those men of prayer with whom I conversed; for
they thought I was exceedingly pained and sorry: even my confessor
himself could hardly believe it. I had done, as it seemed to me, all
that was in my power. I thought myself obliged to do no more than I
had done to fulfil our Lord's commandment, and so I remained in the
house where I was, exceedingly happy and joyful; though, at the same
time, I was never able to give up my conviction that the work would be
done. I had now no means of doing it, nor did I know how or when it
would be done; but I firmly believed in its accomplishment.

4. I was much distressed at one time by a
letter which my confessor wrote to me, as if I had done anything in
the matter contrary to his will. Our Lord also must have meant that
suffering should not fail me there where I should feel it most; and
so, amid the multitude of my persecutions, when, as it seemed to me,
consolations should have come from my confessor, he told me that I
ought to recognise in the result that

all was a dream; that I ought to lead a new life by ceasing to have
anything to do for the future with it, or even to speak of it any
more, seeing the scandal it had occasioned. He made some further
remarks, all of them very painful. This was a greater affliction to
me than all the others together. I considered whether I had done
anything myself, and whether I was to blame for anything that was an
offence unto God; whether all my visions were illusions, all my
prayers a delusion, and I, therefore, deeply deluded and lost. This
pressed so heavily upon me, that I was altogether disturbed and most
grievously distressed. But our Lord, who never failed me in all the
trials I speak of, so frequently consoled and strengthened me, that I
need not speak of it here. He told me then not to distress myself;
that I had pleased God greatly, and had not sinned against Him
throughout the whole affair; that I was to do what my confessors
required of me, and be silent on the subject till the time came to
resume it. I was so comforted and so happy, that the persecution which
had befallen me seemed to be as nothing at all.

5. Our Lord now showed me what an exceedingly
great blessing it is to be tried and persecuted for His sake; for the
growth of the love of God in my soul, which I now discerned, as well
as of many other virtues, was such as to fill me with wonder. It made
me unable to abstain from desiring trials, and yet those about me
thought I was exceedingly disheartened; and I must have been so, if
our Lord in that extremity had not succoured me with His great
compassion. Now was the beginning of those more violent impetuosities
of the love of God of which I have spoken
before,[482] as well as of those profounder
trances. I kept silence, however, and never spoke of those graces to
any one. The
saintly Dominican[483] was as
confident as I was that the

work would be done; and as I would not speak of it, in order that
nothing might take place contrary to the obedience I owed my
confessor, he communicated with my companion, and they wrote letters
to Rome and made their preparations.

6. Satan also contrived now that persons should
hear one from another that I had had a revelation in the matter; and
people came to me in great terror, saying that the times were
dangerous, that something might be laid to my charge, and that I might
be taken before the Inquisitors. I heard this with pleasure, and it
made me laugh, because I never was afraid of them; for I knew well
enough that in matters of faith I would not break the least ceremony
of the Church, that I would expose myself to die a thousand times
rather than that any one should see me go against it or against any
truth of Holy Writ. So I told them I was not afraid of that, for my
soul must be in a very bad state if there was anything the matter with
it of such a nature as to make me fear the Inquisition; I would go
myself and give myself up, if I thought there was anything amiss; and
if I should be denounced, our Lord would deliver me, and I should
gain much.

7. I had recourse to my Dominican father; for I
could rely upon him, because he was a learned man. I told him all
about my visions, my way of prayer, the great graces our Lord had
given me, as clearly as I could, and I begged him to consider the
matter well, and tell me if there was anything therein at variance
with the Holy Writings, and give me his opinion on the whole matter.
He reassured me much, and, I think, profited himself; for though he
was exceedingly good, yet, from this time forth, he gave himself more
and more to prayer, and retired to a monastery of his Order which was
very lonely, that he might apply himself more effectually to prayer,
where he remained more than two years. He was dragged out of his
solitude by obedience, to his great sorrow: his superiors

required his services; for he was a man of great ability. I, too,
on my part, felt his retirement very much, because it was a great loss
to me, though I did not disturb him. But I knew it was a gain to him;
for when I was so much distressed at his departure, our Lord bade me
be comforted, not to take it to heart, for he was gone under
good guidance.

8. So, when he came back, his soul had made
such great progress, and he was so advanced in the ways of the spirit,
that he told me on his return he would not have missed that journey
for anything in the world. And I, too, could say the same thing; for
where he reassured and consoled me formerly by his mere learning, he
did so now through that spiritual experience he had gained of
supernatural things. And God, too, brought him here in time; for He
saw that his help would be required in the foundation of the
monastery, which His Majesty willed should be laid.

9. I remained quiet after this for five or six
months, neither thinking nor speaking of the matter; nor did our Lord
once speak to me about it. I know not why, but I could never rid
myself of the thought that the monastery would be founded. At the end
of that time, the
then Rector[484] of the
Society of Jesus having gone away, His Majesty brought into his place
another,[485] of great spirituality, high
courage, strong understanding, and profound learning, at the very time
when I was in great straits. As he who then heard my confession had a
superior over himâ€”the fathers of the Society are extremely strict
about the virtue of obedience and never stir but in conformity with
the will of their superiors,â€”so he would not dare, though he
perfectly understood my spirit, and desired

the accomplishment of my purpose, to come to any resolution; and he
had many reasons to justify his conduct. I was at the same time
subject to such great impetuosities of spirit, that I felt my chains
extremely heavy; nevertheless, I never swerved from the commandment he
gave me.

10. One day, when in great distress, because I
thought my confessor did not trust me, our Lord said to me, Be not
troubled; this suffering will soon be over. I was very much
delighted, thinking I should die shortly; and I was very happy
whenever I recalled those words to remembrance. Afterwards I saw
clearly that they referred to the coming of the rector of whom I am
speaking, for never again had I any reason to be distressed. The
rector that came never interfered with the father-minister who was my
confessor. On the contrary, he told him to console me,â€”that there
was nothing to be afraid of,â€”and not to direct me along a road so
narrow, but to leave the operations of the Spirit of God alone; for
now and then it seemed as if these great impetuosities of the spirit
took away the very breath of the soul.

11. The rector came to see me, and my
confessor bade me speak to him in all freedom and openness. I used to
feel the very greatest repugnance to speak of this matter; but so it
was, when I went into the confessional, I felt in my soul something, I
know not what. I do not remember to have felt so either before or
after towards any one. I cannot tell what it was, nor do I know of
anything with which I could compare it. It was a spiritual joy, and a
conviction in my soul that his soul must understand mine, that it was
in unison with it, and yet, as I have said, I knew not how. If I had
ever spoken to him, or had heard great things of him, it would have
been nothing out of the way that I should rejoice in the conviction
that he would understand me; but he had never spoken to me before, nor
I to him, and, indeed, he was a person of whom I had no previous
knowledge whatever.

12. Afterwards, I saw clearly that my spirit
was not deceived; for my relations with him were in every way of the
utmost service to me and my soul, because his method of direction is
proper for those persons whom our Lord seems to have led far on the
way, seeing that He makes them run, and not to crawl step by step.
His plan is to render them thoroughly detached and mortified, and our
Lord has endowed him with the highest gifts herein as well as in many
other things beside. As soon as I began to have to do with him, I
knew his method at once, and saw that he had a pure and holy soul,
with a special grace of our Lord for the discernment of spirits. He
gave me great consolation. Shortly after I had begun to speak to him,
our Lord began to constrain me to return to the affair of the
monastery, and to lay before my confessor and the father-rector many
reasons and considerations why they should not stand in my way. Some
of these reasons made them afraid, for the father-rector never had a
doubt of its being the work of the Spirit of God, because he regarded
the fruits of it with great care and attention. At last, after much
consideration, they did not dare to
hinder me.[486]

13. My confessor gave me leave to prosecute
the work with all my might. I saw well enough the trouble I exposed
myself to, for I was utterly alone, and able to do so very little. We
agreed that it should be carried on with the utmost secrecy; and so I
contrived that one of
my sisters,[487] who lived
out of the town, should buy a house, and prepare it as if for herself,
with money which our Lord provided
for us.[488]
I made it a

great point to do nothing against obedience; but I knew that if I
spoke of it to my superiors all was lost, as on the former occasion,
and worse even might happen. In holding the money, in finding the
house, in treating for it, in putting it in order, I had so much to
suffer; and, for the most part, I had to suffer alone, though my
friend did what she could: she could do but little, and that was
almost nothing. Beyond giving her name and her countenance, the whole
of the trouble was mine; and that fell upon me in so many ways, that I
am astonished now how I could have borne
it.[489] Sometimes, in my affliction, I used to
say: O my Lord, how is it that Thou commandest me to do that which
seems impossible?â€”for, though I am a woman, yet, if I were free, it
might be done; but when I am tied in so many ways, without money, or
the means of procuring it, either for the purpose of the Brief or for
any other,â€”what, O Lord, can I do?

14. Once when I was in one of my difficulties,
not knowing what to do, unable to pay the workmen, St. Joseph, my true father and lord, appeared to
me, and gave me to understand that money would not be wanting, and I
must hire the workmen. So I did, though I was penniless; and our
Lord, in a way that filled those who heard of it with wonder, provided
for me. The house offered me was too small,â€”so much so, that it
seemed as if it could never be made into a monastery,â€”and I wished to
buy another, but had not the means, and there was neither way nor
means to do so. I knew not what to do. There was another little
house close to the one we had, which might have formed a small church.
One day, after Communion, our Lord said to me, I have already bidden
thee to go

in anyhow. And then, as if exclaiming, said: Oh, covetousness of
the human race, thinking that even the whole earth is too little for
it! how often have I slept in the open air, because I had no place to
shelter Me![490] I was alarmed, and saw that He
had good reasons to complain. I went to the little house, arranged
the divisions of it, and found that it would make a sufficient, though
small, monastery. I did not care now to add to the site by purchase,
and so I did nothing but contrive to have it prepared in such a way
that it could be lived in. Everything was coarse, and nothing more
was done to it than to render it not hurtful to healthâ€”and that must
be done everywhere.

15. As I was going to Communion on her feast,
St. Clare appeared to me in great beauty,
and bade me take courage, and go on with what I had begun; she would
help me. I began to have a great devotion to St. Clare; and she has so truly kept her word,
that a monastery of nuns of her Order in our neighbourhood helped us
to live; and, what is of more importance, by little and little she so
perfectly fulfilled my desire, that the poverty which the blessed
Saint observes in her own house is observed in this, and we are living
on alms. It cost me no small labour to have this matter settled by
the plenary sanction and authority of the Holy
Father,[491] so that it shall never be
otherwise, and we possess no revenues. Our Lord is doing more for usâ€”perhaps we owe it to the prayers of this blessed Saint; for, without
our asking anybody, His Majesty supplies most abundantly all our
wants. May He be blessed for ever! Amen.

16. On one of these daysâ€”it was the Feast of
the Assumption of our Ladyâ€”I was in the church of the monastery of
the Order of the glorious St. Dominic,
thinking of the events of my wretched life, and of the many sins which
in times past I had confessed in that

house. I fell into so profound a trance, that I was as it were
beside myself. I sat down, and it seemed as if I could neither see
the Elevation nor hear Mass. This afterwards became a scruple to me.
I thought then, when I was in that state, that I saw myself clothed
with a garment of excessive whiteness and splendour. At first I did
not see who was putting it on me. Afterwards I saw our Lady on my
right hand, and my father St. Joseph on my
left, clothing me with that garment. I was given to understand that I
was then cleansed from my sins. When I had been thus cladâ€”I was
filled with the utmost delight and joyâ€”our Lady seemed at once to
take me by both hands. She said that I pleased her very much by being
devout to the glorious St. Joseph; that I
might rely on it my desires about the monastery were accomplished, and
that our Lord and they too would be greatly honoured in it; that I was
to be afraid of no failure whatever, though the obedience under which
it would be placed might not be according to my mind, because they
would watch over us, and because her Son had promised to be with
us[492]â€”and, as a proof of this, she would
give me that jewel. She then seemed to throw around my neck a most
splendid necklace of gold, from which hung a cross of great value.
The stones and gold were so different from any in this world, that
there is nothing wherewith to compare them. The beauty of them is
such as can be conceived by no imagination,â€”and no understanding can
find out the materials of the robe, nor picture to itself the
splendours which our Lord revealed, in comparison with which all the
splendours of earth, so to say, are a daubing of soot. This beauty,
which I saw in our Lady, was exceedingly grand, though I did not trace
it in any particular feature, but rather in the whole form of her
face. She was clothed in white and her garments shone with excessive
lustre that was not dazzling, but soft. I did not
see St.

Joseph so distinctly, though I saw clearly that he was there, as in
the visions of which I
spoke before,[493] in
which nothing is seen. Our Lady seemed to be very young.

17. When they had been with me for a
while,â€”I, too, in the greatest delight and joy, greater than I had
ever had before, as I think, and with which I wished never to part,â€”I
saw them, so it seemed, ascend up to heaven, attended by a great
multitude of angels. I was left in great loneliness, though so
comforted and raised up, so recollected in prayer and softened, that I
was for some time unable to move or speakâ€”being, as it were, beside
myself. I was now possessed by a strong desire to be consumed for the
love of God, and by other affections of the same kind. Everything took
place in such a way that I could never have a doubtâ€”though I often
triedâ€”that the vision came
from God.[494] It
left me in the greatest consolation and peace.

18. As to that which the Queen of the Angels
spoke about obedience, it is this: it was painful to me not to subject
the monastery to the Order, and our Lord had told me that it was
inexpedient to do so. He told me the reasons why it was in no wise
convenient that I should do it but I must send to Rome in a certain
way, which He also explained; He would take care that I found help
there: and so I did. I sent to Rome, as our Lord directed me,â€”for we
should never have succeeded otherwise,â€”and most favourable was
the result.

19. And as to subsequent events, it was very
convenient to be under
the Bishop,[495] but at
that time I did not know him, nor did I know what kind of a superior
he might be. It pleased our Lord that he should be as good and
favourable to this house as it was necessary he should be on account
of the great opposition it met

with at the beginning, as I shall show
hereafter,[496] and also for the sake of
bringing it to the condition it is now in. Blessed be He who has done
it all! Amen.

The Life

Chapter XXXIV

The Saint Leaves Her Monastery of the Incarnation for a Time,
at the Command of Her Superior. Consoles an
Afflicted Widow.

Now, though I was very careful that no one
should know what we were doing, all this work could not be carried on
so secretly as not to come to the knowledge of divers persons; some
believed, in it, others did not, I was in great fear lest the
Provincial should be spoken to about it when he came, and find himself
compelled to order me to give it up; and if he did so, it would have
been abandoned at once. Our Lord provided against it in this way. In
a large city, more than twenty leagues distant, was a lady in great
distress on account of her
husband's death.[497]
She was in such extreme affliction, that fears were entertained about
her life. She had heard of me, a poor sinner,â€”for our Lord had
provided that,â€”and men spoke well to her of me, for the sake of other
good works which resulted from it. This lady knew the Provincial
well; and as she was a person of some consideration, and knew that I
lived in a monastery the nuns of which were permitted to go out, our
Lord made her desire much to see me. She thought that my presence
would be a consolation to her, and that she could not be comforted
otherwise. She therefore strove by all the means in her power to

get me into her house, sending messages to the Provincial, who was
at a distance far away.

2. The Provincial sent me an order, charging me
in virtue of my obedience to go immediately, with one companion. I
knew of it on Christmas night. It caused me some trouble and much
suffering to see that they sent for me because they thought there was
some good in me; I, knowing myself to be so wicked, could not bear it.
I commended myself earnestly to God, and during Matins, or the greater
part of them, was lost in a profound trance. Our Lord told me I must
go without fail, and give no heed to the opinions of people, for they
were few who would not be rash in their counsel; and though I should
have troubles, yet God would be served greatly: as to the monastery,
it was expedient I should be absent till the Brief came, because Satan
had contrived a great plot against the coming of the Provincial; that
I was to have no fear,â€”He would help me. I repeated this to the
rector, and he told me that I must go by all means, though others were
saying I ought not to go, that it was a trick of Satan to bring some
evil upon me there, and that I ought to send word to
the Provincial.

3. I obeyed the rector, and went without fear,
because of what I had understood in prayer, though in the greatest
confusion when I thought of the reasons why they sent for me, and how
very much they were deceived. It made me more and more importunate
with our Lord that He would not abandon me. It was a great comfort
that there was a house of the Society of Jesus there whither I was
going, and so I thought I should be in some degree safe under the
direction of those fathers, as I had been here.

4. It was the good pleasure of our Lord that
the lady who sent for me should be so much consoled that a visible
improvement was the immediate result she was comforted every day more
and more. This was very remarkable, because, as I said before,
her suffering

had reduced her to great straits. Our Lord must have done this in
answer to the many prayers which the good people of my acquaintance
made for me, that I might prosper in my work. She had a profound fear
of God, and was so good, that her great devotion supplied my
deficiencies. She conceived a great affection for meâ€”I, too, for
her, because of her goodness; but all was as it were a cross for me;
for the comforts of her house were a great torment, and her making so
much of me made me afraid. I kept my soul continually recollectedâ€”I
did not dare to be careless: nor was our Lord careless of me; for
while I was there, He bestowed the greatest graces upon me, and those
graces made me so free, and filled me with such contempt for all I
saw,â€”and the more I saw, the greater my contempt,â€”that I never
failed to treat those ladies, whom to serve would have been a great
honour for me, with as much freedom as if I had been their equal.

5. I derived very great advantages from this,
and I said so. I saw that she was a woman, and as much liable to
passion and weakness as I was; that rank is of little worth, and the
higher it is, the greater the anxiety and trouble it brings. People
must be careful of the dignity of their state, which will not suffer
them to live at ease; they must eat at fixed hours and by rule, for
everything must be according to their state, and not according to
their constitutions; and they have frequently to take food fitted more
for their state than for their liking.

6. So it was that I came to hate the very wish
to be a great lady. God deliver me from this wicked, artificial
life!â€”though I believe that this lady, notwithstanding that she was
one of the chief personages of the realm, was a woman of great
simplicity, and that few were more humble than she was. I was very
sorry for her, for I saw how often she had to submit to much that was
disagreeable to her, because of the requirements of her rank. Then,
as to servants, though this

lady had very good servants, how slight is that little trust that
may be put in them! One must not be conversed with more than another;
otherwise, he who is so favoured is envied by the rest. This of itself
is a slavery, and one of the lies of the world is that it calls such
persons masters, who, in my eyes, are nothing else but slaves in a
thousand ways.

7. It was our Lord's pleasure that the
household of that lady improved in the service of His Majesty during
my stay there, though I was not exempted from some trials and some
jealousies on the part of some of its members, because of the great
affection their mistress had for me. They perhaps must have thought I
had some personal interest to serve. Our Lord must have permitted
such matters, and others of the same kind, to give me trouble, in
order that I might not be absorbed in the comforts which otherwise I
had there; and He was pleased to deliver me out of it all with great
profit to my soul.

8. When I was there, a religious person of
great consideration, and with whom I had conversed occasionally some
years ago,[498] happened to arrive. When I was
at Mass, in a monastery of his Order, near the house in which I was
staying, I felt a longing to know the state of his soul,â€”for I wished
him to be a great servant of God,â€”and I rose up in order to go and
speak to him. But as I was then recollected in prayer, it seemed to
me a waste of timeâ€”for what had I to do in that matter?â€”and so I
returned to my place. Three times, I think I did this, and at last my
good angel prevailed over the evil one, and I went and asked for him;
and he came to speak to me in one of the confessionals. We began by
asking one another of our past lives, for we had not

seen one another for many years. I told him that my life had been
one in which my soul had had many trials. He insisted much on my
telling him what those trials were. I said that they were not to be
told, and that I was not to tell them. He replied that the Dominican
father,[499] of whom I have spoken, knew them,
and that, as they were great friends, he could learn them from him,
and so I had better tell them without hesitation.

9. The fact is, that it was not in his power
not to insist, nor in mine, I believe, to refuse to speak; for
notwithstanding all the trouble and shame I used to feel formerly, I
spoke of my state, to him, and to the rector whom I have referred to
before,[500] without any difficulty whatever; on
the contrary, it was a great consolation to me; and so I told him all
in confession. He seemed to me then more prudent than ever; though I
had always looked upon him as a man of great understanding. I
considered what high gifts and endowments for great services he had,
if he gave himself wholly unto God. I had this feeling now for many
years, so that I never saw any one who pleased me much without wishing
at once he were given wholly unto God; and sometimes I feel this so
keenly, that I can hardly contain myself. Though I long to see
everybody serve God, yet my desire about those who please me is very
vehement, and so I importune our Lord on their behalf.

10. So it happened with respect to this
religious. He asked me to pray much for him to God. There was no
necessity for his doing so, because I could not do anything else, and
so I went back to my place where I was in the habit of praying alone,
and began to pray to our Lord, being extremely recollected, in that my
simple, silly way, when I speak without knowing very often what I am
saying. It is love that speaks, and my soul is so beside itself, that
I do not regard the

distance between it and God. That love which I know His Majesty
has for it makes it forget itself, and think itself to be one with
Him; and so, as being one with Him, and not divided from Him, the soul
speaks foolishly. When I had prayed with many tears that the soul of
this religious might serve Him truly,â€”for, though I considered it
good, it was not enough for me; I would have it much better,â€”I
remember I said, "O Lord, Thou must not refuse me this grace;
behold him,â€”he is a fit person to be our friend."

11. Oh, the great goodness and compassion of
God! How He regards not the words, but the desire and the will with
which they are spoken! How He suffered such a one as I am to speak so
boldly before His Majesty! May He be blessed for evermore!

12. I remember that during those hours of
prayer on that very night I was extremely distressed by the thought
whether I was in the grace of God, and that I could never know whether
I was so or not,â€”not that I wished to know it; I wished, however, to
die, in order that I might not live a life in which I was not sure
that I was not dead in sin, for there could be no death more dreadful
for me than to think that I had sinned against God. I was in great
straits at this thought. I implored Him not to suffer me to fall into
sin, with great sweetness, dissolved in tears. Then I heard that I
might console myself,
and trust[501] that I was
in a state of grace, because a love of God like mine, together with
the graces and feelings with which

His Majesty filled my soul, was of such a nature as to be
inconsistent with a state of mortal sin.

13. I was now confident that our Lord would
grant my prayer as to that religious. He bade me repeat certain words
to him. This I felt much, because I knew not how to speak to him; for
this carrying messages to a third person, as I have
said,[502] is what I have always felt the most,
especially when I did not know how that person would take them, nor
whether he would not laugh at me. This placed me in great
difficulties, but at last I was so convinced I ought to do it, that I
believe I made a promise to God I would not neglect that message; and
because of the great shame I felt, I wrote it out, and gave it in that
way. The result showed clearly enough that it was a message from God,
for that religious resolved with great earnestness to give himself to
prayer, though he did not do so at once. Our Lord would have him for
Himself, so He sent me to tell him certain truths which, without my
understanding them, were so much to the purpose that he was
astonished. Our Lord must have prepared him to receive them as from
His Majesty; and though I am but a miserable sinner myself, yet I made
many supplications to our Lord to convert him thoroughly, and to make
him hate the pleasures and the things of this life. And so he
didâ€”blessed be God!â€”for every time that he spoke to me I was in a
manner beside myself; and if I had not seen it, I should never have
believed that our Lord would have given him in so short a time graces
so matured, and filled him so full of God, that he seemed to be alive
to nothing on earth.

14. May His Majesty hold him in His hand! If
he will go onâ€”and I trust in our Lord he will do so, now that he is
so well grounded in the knowledge of himselfâ€”he will be one of the
most distinguished servants of God, to the great profit of many souls,
because he

has in a short time had great experience in spiritual things: that
is a gift of God, which He gives when He will and as He will, and it
depends not on length of time nor extent of service. I do not mean
that time and service, are not great helps, but very often our Lord
will not give to some in twenty years the grace of contemplation,
while He gives it to others in one,â€”His Majesty knoweth why. We are
under a delusion when we think that in the course of years we shall
come to the knowledge of that which we can in no way attain to but by
experience; and thus many are in error, as I have
said[503] when they would understand
spirituality without being spiritual themselves. I do not mean that a
man who is not spiritual, if he is learned, may not direct one that is
spiritual; but it must be understood that in outward and inward
things, in the order of nature, the direction must be an act of
reason; and in supernatural things, according to the teaching of the
sacred writings. In other matters, let him not distress himself, nor
think that he can understand that which he understandeth not; neither
let him quench
the Spirit;[504] for now another
Master, greater than he, is directing these souls, so that they are
not left without authority over them.

15. He must not be astonished at this, nor
think it impossible: all things are possible to our
Lord;[505] he must strive rather to strengthen
his faith, and humble himself, because in this matter our Lord imparts
perhaps a deeper knowledge to some old woman than to him, though he
may be a very learned man. Being thus humble, he will profit souls
and himself more than if he affected to be a contemplative without
being so; for, I repeat it, if he have no experience, if he have not a
most profound humility, whereby he may see that he does not
understand, and that the thing is not for

that reason impossible, he will do himself but little good, and
still less to his penitent. But if he is humble, let him have no fear
that our Lord will allow either the one or the other to fall
into delusion.

16. Now as to this father I am speaking of, as
our Lord has given him light in many things, so has he laboured to
find out by study that which in this matter can be by study
ascertained; for he is a very learned man, and that of which he has no
experience himself he seeks to find out from those who have it,â€”and
our Lord helps him by increasing his faith, and so he has greatly
benefited himself and some other souls, of whom mine is one. As our
Lord knew the trials I had to undergo, His Majesty seems to have
provided that, when He took away unto Himself some of those who
directed me, others might remain, who helped me in my great
afflictions, and rendered me great services.

17. Our Lord wrought a complete change in this
father, so much so that he scarcely knew himself, so to speak. He has
given him bodily health, so that he may do penance, such as he never
had before; for he was sickly. He has given him courage to undertake
good works, with other gifts, so that he seems to have received a most
special vocation from our Lord. May He be blessed for ever!

18. All these blessings, I believe, came to
him through the graces our Lord bestowed upon him in prayer; for they
are real. It has been our Lord's pleasure already to try him in
certain difficulties, out of which he has come forth like one who
knows the true worth of that merit which is gained by suffering
persecutions. I trust in the munificence of our Lord that great good
will, by his means, accrue to some of his Order and to the Order
itself. This is beginning to be understood. I have had great visions
on the subject, and our Lord has told me wonderful things of him and
of the Rector of the Society of Jesus, whom I am speaking
of,[506] and also of two other religious

of the Order of St. Dominic,
particularly of one who, to his own profit, has actually learned of
our Lord certain things which I had formerly understood of him. But
there were greater things made known of him to whom I am now
referring: one of them I will now relate.

19. I was with him once in the parlour, when
in my soul and spirit I felt what great love burned within him, and
became as it were lost in ecstasy by considering the greatness of God,
who had raised that soul in so short a time to a state so high. It
made me ashamed of myself when I saw him listen with so much humility
to what I was saying about certain matters of prayer, when I had so
little myself that I could speak on the subject to one like him. Our
Lord must have borne with me in this on account of the great desire I
had to see that religious making great progress. My interview with
him did me great good,â€”it seems as if it left a new fire in my soul,
burning with desire to serve our Lord as in the beginning. O my
Jesus! what is a soul on fire with Thy love! How we ought to prize
it, and implore our Lord to let it live long upon earth! He who has
this love should follow after such souls, if it be possible.

20. It is a great thing for a person ill of
this disease to find another struck down by it,â€”it comforts him much
to see that he is not alone; they help one another greatly to suffer
and to merit. They are strong with a double strength who are resolved
to risk a thousand lives for God, and who long for an opportunity of
losing them. They are like soldiers who, to acquire booty, and
therewith enrich themselves, wish for war, knowing well that they
cannot become rich without it. This is their workâ€”to suffer. Oh,
what a blessing it is when our Lord gives light to understand how
great is the gain of suffering for Him! This is never understood till
we have left all things; for if anybody is attached to any one thing,
that is a proof

that he sets some value upon it; and if he sets any value upon it,
it is painful to be compelled to give it up. In that case, everything
is imperfect and lost. The saying is to the purpose here,â€”he who
follows what is lost, is lost himself; and what greater loss, what
greater blindness, what greater calamity, can there be than making
much of that which is nothing!

21. I now return to that which I had begun to
speak of. I was in the greatest joy, beholding that soul. It seemed
as if our Lord would have me see clearly the treasures He had laid up
in it; and so, when I considered the favour our Lord had shown me, in
that I should be the means of so great a good, I recognised my own
unworthiness for such an end. I thought much of the graces our Lord
had given him, and held myself as indebted for them more than if they
had been given to myself. So I gave thanks to our Lord, when I saw
that His Majesty had fulfilled my desires and heard my petition that
He would raise up persons like him. And now my soul, no longer able
to bear the joy that filled it, went forth out of itself, losing
itself that it might gain the more. It lost sight of the reflections
it was making; and the hearing of that divine language which the Holy
Ghost seemed to speak threw me into a deep trance, which almost
deprived me of all sense, though it did not last long. I saw Christ,
in exceeding great majesty and glory, manifesting His joy at what was
then passing. He told me as much, and it was His pleasure that I
should clearly see that He was always present at similar interviews,
and how much He was pleased when people thus found their delight in
speaking of Him.

22. On another occasion, when far away from
this place, I saw him carried by angels in great glory. I understood
by that vision that his soul was making great progress: so it was; for
an evil report was spread abroad against him by one to whom he had
rendered a great service, and whose reputation and whose soul he

had saved. He bore it with much joy. He did also other things
greatly to the honour of God, and underwent more persecutions. I do
not think it expedient now to speak further on this point; if,
however, you, my father, who know all, should hereafter think
otherwise, more might be said to the glory of our Lord.

23. All the prophecies spoken of
before,[507] relating to this house, as well
as others, of which I shall speak hereafter, relating to it and to
other matters, have been accomplished. Some of them our Lord revealed
to me three years before they became known, others earlier and others
later. But I always made them known to my confessor, and to the widow
my friend; for I had leave to communicate with her, as I said
before.[508] She, I know, repeated them to
others, and these know that I lie not. May God never permit me, in
any matter whatever,â€”much more in things of this importance,â€”to say
anything but the whole truth!

24. One of my
brothers-in-law[509] died suddenly; and as I
was in great distress at this, because he had no opportunity of making
his confession, our Lord said to me in prayer that my sister also was
to die in the same way; that I must go to her, and make her prepare
herself for such an end. I told this to my confessor; but as he would
not let me go, I heard the same warning again; and now, when he saw
this, he told me I might go, and that I should lose nothing by going.
My sister was living in the country; and as I did not tell her why I
came, I gave her what light I could in all things. I made her go
frequently to confession, and look to her soul in everything. She was
very good, and did as I asked her. Four or five years after she had
begun this practice, and keeping a strict watch over her conscience,
she died, with nobody near her, and without being able to go to
confession. This was a blessing to her, for it

was little more than a week since she had been to her accustomed
confession. It was a great joy to me when I heard of her death. She
was but a short time in purgatory.

25. I do not think it was quite eight days
afterwards when, after Communion, our Lord appeared to me, and was
pleased that I should see Him receive my sister into glory. During
all those years, after our Lord had spoken to me, until her death,
what I then learnt with respect to her was never forgotten either by
myself or by my friend, who, when my sister was thus dead, came to me
in great amazement at the fulfilment of the prophecy. God be praised
for ever, who takes such care of souls that they may not be lost!

The Life

Chapter XXXV

The Foundation of the House of St. Joseph. The Observation of Holy Poverty
Therein. How the Saint Left Toledo.

When I was staying with this
lady,[510] already spoken of, in whose house I
remained more than six months, our Lord ordained that a holy
woman[511] of our Order

should hear of me, who was more than seventy leagues away from the
place. She happened to travel this way, and went some leagues out of
her road that she might see me. Our Lord had moved her in the same
year, and in the same month of the year, that He had moved me, to
found another monastery of the Order; and as He had given her this
desire, she sold all she possessed, and went to Rome to obtain the
necessary faculties. She went on foot, and barefooted. She is a
woman of great penance and prayer, and one to whom our Lord gave many
graces; and our Lady appeared to her, and commanded her to undertake
this work. Her progress in the service of our Lord was so much
greater than mine, that I was ashamed to stand in her presence. She
showed me Briefs she brought from Rome, and during the fortnight she
remained with me we laid our plan for the founding of
these monasteries.

2. Until I spoke to her, I never knew that our
rule, before it was mitigated, required of us that we should possess
nothing;[512] nor was I going to found a
monastery
without revenue,[513] for my intention
was that we should be without anxiety about all that was necessary for
us, and I did not think of the many anxieties which the possession of
property brings in its train. This holy woman, taught of our Lord,
perfectly understoodâ€”though she could not readâ€”what I was ignorant
of, notwithstanding my having read the
Constitutions[514] so often; and when she told
me of it, I thought it right, though I feared they would never consent
to this, but would tell me I was committing follies, and that I ought
not to do anything whereby I might bring suffering upon others. If
this concerned only myself,

nothing should have kept me back,â€”on the contrary, it would have
been my great joy to think that I was observing the counsels of Christ
our Lord; for His Majesty had already given me great longings
for poverty.[515]

3. As for myself, I never doubted that this was
the better part; for I had now for some time wished it were possible
in my state to go about begging, for the love of Godâ€”to have no house
of my own, nor anything else. But I was afraid that othersâ€”if our
Lord did not give them the same desireâ€”might live in discontent.
Moreover, I feared that it might be the cause of some distraction: for
I knew some poor monasteries not very recollected, and I did not
consider that their not being recollected was the cause of their
poverty, and that their poverty was not the cause of their
distraction: distraction never makes people richer, and God never
fails those who serve Him. In short, I was weak in faith; but not so
this servant of God.

4. As I took the advice of many in everything,
I found scarcely any one of this opinionâ€”neither my confessor, nor
the learned men to whom I spoke of it. They gave me so many reasons
the other way, that I did not know what to do. But when I saw what
the rule required, and that poverty was the more perfect way, I could
not persuade myself to allow an endowment. And though they did
persuade me now and then that they were right, yet, when I returned to
my prayer, and saw Christ on the cross, so poor and destitute, I could
not bear to be rich, and I implored Him with tears so to order matters
that I might be poor as He was.

5. I found that so many inconveniences resulted
from an endowment, and saw that it was the cause of so much trouble,
and even distraction, that I did nothing but dispute with the learned.
I wrote to that

Dominican friar[516] who was helping us, and
he sent back two sheets by way of reply, full of objections and
theology against my plan, telling me that he had thought much on the
subject. I answered that, in order to escape from my vocation, the
vow of poverty I had made, and the perfect observance of the counsels
of Christ, I did not want any theology to help me, and in this case I
should not thank him for his learning. If I found any one who would
help me, it pleased me much. The lady in whose house I was staying
was a great help to me in this matter. Some at first told me that
they agreed with me; afterwards, when they had considered the matter
longer, they found in it so many inconveniences that they insisted on
my giving it up. I told them that, though they changed their opinion
so quickly, I would abide by the first.

6. At this time, because of my entreaties,â€”for
the lady had never seen the holy friar, Peter of Alcantara,â€”it
pleased our Lord to bring him to her house. As he was a great lover
of poverty, and had lived in it for so many years, he knew well the
treasures it contains, and so he was a great help to me; he charged me
on no account whatever to give up my purpose. Now, having this
opinion and sanction,â€”no one was better able to give it, because he
knew what it was by long experience,â€”I made up my mind to seek no
further advice.

7. One day, when I was very earnestly
commending the matter to God, our Lord told me that I must by no means
give up my purpose of founding the monastery in poverty; it was His
will, and the will of His Father: He would help me. I was in a
trance; and the effects were such, that I could have no doubt it came
from God. On another occasion, He said to me that endowments bred
confusion, with other things in praise of poverty; and assured me that
whosoever served Him would never be in want of the necessary means of
living: and this want, as I
have said,[517] I
never feared

myself. Our Lord changed the dispositions also of the
licentiate,â€”I am speaking of the Dominican
friar,[518]â€”who, as I said, wrote to me that I
should not found the monastery without an endowment. Now, I was in
the greatest joy at hearing this; and having these opinions in my
favour, it seemed to me nothing less than the possession of all the
wealth of the world, when I had resolved to live in poverty for the
love of God.

8. At this time, my Provincial withdrew the
order and the obedience, in virtue of which I was staying in that
house.[519] He left it to me to do as I
liked: if I wished to return I might do so; if I wished to remain I
might also do so for a certain time. But during that time the
elections in
my monastery[520] would take
place and I was told that many of the nuns wished to lay on me the
burden of superiorship. The very thought of this alone was a great
torment to me; for though I was resolved to undergo readily any kind
of martyrdom for God, I could not persuade myself at all to accept
this; for, putting aside the great trouble it involved,â€”because the
nuns were so many,â€”and other reasons, such as that I never wished for
it, nor for any other office,â€”on the contrary, had always refused
them,â€”it seemed to me that my conscience would be in great danger;
and so I praised God that I was not then in my convent. I wrote to my
friends and asked them not to vote for me.

9. When I was rejoicing that I was not in that
trouble, our Lord said to me that I was on no account to keep away;
that as I longed for a cross, there was one ready for me, and that a
heavy one: that I was not to throw it away, but go on with resolution;
He would help me, and I must go at once. I was very much distressed,
and did nothing but weep, because I thought that my cross was to be
the office of prioress; and, as I have just said, I could not persuade
myself that it

would be at all good for my soulâ€”nor could I see any means by
which it would be. I told my confessor of it, and he commanded me to
return at once: that to do so was clearly the most perfect way; and
that, because the heat was very great,â€”it would be enough if I
arrived before the election,â€”I might wait a few days, in order that
my journey might do me no harm.

10. But our Lord had ordered it otherwise. I
had to go at once, because the uneasiness I felt was very great; and I
was unable to pray, and thought I was failing in obedience to the
commandments of our Lord, and that as I was happy and contented where
I was, I would not go to meet trouble. All my service of God there
was lip-service: why did I, having the opportunity of living in
greater perfection, neglect it? If I died on the road, let me die.
Besides, my soul was in great straits, and our Lord had taken from me
all sweetness in prayer. In short, I was in such a state of torment,
that I begged the lady to let me go; for my confessor, when he saw the
plight I was in, had already told me to go, God having moved him as He
had moved me. The lady felt my departure very much, and that was
another pain to bear; for it had cost her much trouble, and diverse
importunities of the Provincial, to have me in her house.

11. I considered it a very great thing for her
to have given her consent, when she felt it so much; but, as she was a
person who feared God exceedingly,â€”and as I told her, among many
other reasons, that my going away tended greatly to His service, and
held out the hope that I might possibly return,â€”she gave way, but
with much sorrow. I was now not sorry myself at coming away, for I
knew that it was an act of greater perfection, and for the service of
God. So the pleasure I had in pleasing God took away the pain of
quitting that lady,â€”whom I saw suffering so keenly,â€”and others to
whom I owed much, particularly my confessor of the Society of Jesus,
in whom I found all I

needed. But the greater the consolations I lost for our Lord's
sake, the greater was my joy in losing them. I could not understand
it, for I had a clear consciousness of these two contrary
feelingsâ€”pleasure, consolation, and joy in that which weighed down my
soul with sadness. I was joyful and tranquil, and had opportunities
of spending many hours in prayer; and I saw that I was going to throw
myself into a fire; for our Lord had already told me that I was going
to carry a heavy cross,â€”though I never thought it would be so heavy
as I afterwards found it to be,â€”yet I went forth rejoicing. I was
distressed because I had not already begun the fight, since it was our
Lord's will that I should be in it. Thus His Majesty gave me
strength, and established it in
my weakness.[521]

12. As I have just said, I could not
understand how this could be. I thought of this illustration: if I
were possessed of a jewel, or any other thing which gave me great
pleasure, and it came to my knowledge that a person whom I loved more
than myself, and whose satisfaction I preferred to my own, wished to
have it, it would give me great pleasure to deprive myself of it,
because I would give all I possessed to please that person. Now, as
the pleasure of giving pleasure to that person surpasses any pleasure
I have in that jewel myself, I should not be distressed in giving away
that or anything else I loved, nor at the loss of that pleasure which
the possession of it gave me. So now, though I wished to feel some
distress when I saw that those whom I was leaving felt my going so
much, yet, notwithstanding my naturally grateful disposition,â€”which,
under other circumstances, would have been enough to have caused me
great pain,â€”at this time, though I wished to feel it, I could
feel none.

13. The delay of another day was so
serious a

matter in the affairs of this holy house, that I know not how they
would have been settled if I had waited. Oh, God is great! I am
often lost in wonder when I consider and see the special help which
His Majesty gave me towards the establishment of this little cell of
God,â€”for such I believe it to be,â€”the lodging wherein His Majesty
delights; for once, when I was in prayer, He told me that this house
was the paradise of
his delight.[522] It
seems, then, that His Majesty has chosen these whom he has drawn
hither, among whom I am living very much ashamed of
myself.[523] I could not have even wished for
souls such as they are for the purpose of this house, where enclosure,
poverty, and prayer are so strictly observed; they submit with so much
joy and contentment, that every one of them thinks herself unworthy of
the grace of being received into it,â€”some of them particularly; for
our Lord has called them out of the vanity and dissipation of the
world, in which, according to its laws, they might have lived
contented. Our Lord has multiplied their joy, so that they see
clearly how He had given them a hundredfold for the one thing they
have left,[524] and for which they cannot
thank His Majesty enough. Others He has advanced from well to better.
To the young He gives courage and knowledge, so that they may desire
nothing else, and also to understand that to live away from all things
in this life is to live in greater peace even here below. To those
who are no longer young, and whose health is weak, He givesâ€”and has
givenâ€”the strength to undergo the same austerities and penance with
all the others.

14. O my Lord! how Thou dost show Thy power!
There is no need to seek reasons for Thy will; for with Thee, against
all natural reason, all things are possible: so that thou teachest
clearly there is no need of anything

but of loving Thee[525] in earnest, and
really giving up everything for Thee, in order that Thou, O my Lord,
might make everything easy. It is well said that Thou feignest to
make Thy
law difficult:[526] I do not see it,
nor do I feel that the way that leadeth unto Thee is narrow. I see it
as a royal road, and not a pathway; a road upon which whosoever really
enters, travels most securely. No mountain passes and no cliffs are
near it: these are the occasions of sin. I call that a pass,â€”a
dangerous pass,â€”and a narrow road, which has on one side a deep
hollow, into which one stumbles, and on the other a precipice, over
which they who are careless fall, and are dashed to pieces. He who
loves Thee, O my God, travels safely by the open and royal road, far
away from the precipice: he has scarcely stumbled at all, when Thou
stretchest forth Thy hand to save him. One fallâ€”yea, many fallsâ€”if
he does but love Thee, and not the things of the world, are not enough
to make him perish; he travels in the valley of humility. I cannot
understand what it is that makes men afraid of the way
of perfection.

15. May our Lord of His mercy make us see what
a poor security we have in the midst of dangers so manifest, when we
live like the rest of the world; and that true security consists in
striving to advance in the way of God! Let us fix our eyes upon Him,
and have

no fear that the Sun of justice will ever set, or suffer us to
travel to our ruin by night, unless we first look away from Him.
People are not afraid of living in the midst of lions, every one of
whom seems eager to tear them: I am speaking of honours, pleasures,
and the like joys, as the world calls them: and herein the devil seems
to make us afraid of ghosts. I am astonished a thousand times, and
ten thousand times would I relieve myself by weeping, and proclaim
aloud my own great blindness and wickedness, if, perchance, it might
help in some measure to open their eyes. May He, who is almighty, of
His goodness open their eyes, and never suffer mine to be
blind again!

The Life

Chapter XXXVI

The Foundation of the Monastery of St. Joseph. Persecution and Temptations. Great
Interior Trial of the Saint, and Her Deliverance.

Having now left that
city,[527] I travelled in great joy, resolved to
suffer most willingly whatever our Lord might be pleased to lay upon
me. On the night of my
arrival here,[528] came
also from Rome the commission and the Brief for the erection of the
monastery.[529] I was astonished myself, and so
were those who knew how our Lord hastened my coming, when they saw how
necessary it was, and in what a moment our Lord had brought me
back.[530] I found here the Bishop and the holy
friar,[531] Peter of Alcantara, and that
nobleman,[532] the great servant of God, in
whose house the holy man was

staying; for he was a man who was in the habit of receiving the
servants of God in his house. These two prevailed on the Bishop to
accept the monastery, which was no small thing, because it was founded
in poverty; but he was so great a lover of those whom he saw
determined to serve our Lord, that he was immediately drawn to give
them His protection. It was the approbation of the holy old
man,[533] and the great trouble he took to make
now this one, now that one, help us, that did the whole work. If I
had not come at the moment, as I have just said, I do not see how it
could have been done; for the holy man was here but a short time,â€”I
think not quite eight days,â€”during which he was also ill; and almost
immediately afterwards our Lord took him to
Himself.[534] It seems as if His Majesty
reserved him till this affair was ended, because now for some timeâ€”I
think for more than two yearsâ€”he had been very ill.

2. Everything was done in the utmost secrecy;
and if it had not been so, I do not see how anything could have been
done at all; for the people of the city were against us, as it
appeared afterwards. Our Lord ordained that one of my
brothers-in-law[535] should be ill, and his wife
away, and himself in such straits that my superiors gave me leave to
remain with him. Nothing, therefore, was found out, though some
persons had their suspicions;â€”still, they did not believe. It was
very wonderful, for his illness lasted only no longer than was
necessary for our affair; and when it was necessary he should recover
his health, that I might be disengaged, and he leave the house empty,
our Lord restored him; and he was astonished at
it himself.[536]

3. I had much trouble in persuading this person
and that to allow the foundation; I had to nurse the sick man, and
obtain from the workmen the hasty preparation of the house, so that it
might have the form of a monastery; but much remained still to be
done. My friend was
not here,[537] for we
thought it best she should be away, in order the better to hide our
purpose. I saw that everything depended on haste, for many, reasons,
one of which was that I was afraid I might be ordered back to my
monastery at any moment. I was troubled by so many things, that I
suspected my cross had been sent me, though it seemed but a light one
in comparison with that which I understood our Lord meant me
to carry.

4. When everything was settled, our Lord was
pleased that some of us should take the habit on St. Bartholomew's Day. The most Holy Sacrament
began to dwell in the house at the same
time.[538] With full sanction and authority,
then, our monastery of our most glorious father St. Joseph was founded in the year
1562.[539] I was there myself to give the
habit, with two nuns[540] of the house to
which we belonged, who happened then to be absent from it. As the
house which thus became a monastery was that of my brother-in-lawâ€”I
said before[541] that he had bought it, for
the purpose of concealing our planâ€”I was there myself with the
permission of my superiors; and I

did nothing without the advice of learned men, in order that I
might not break, in a single point, my vow of obedience. As these
persons considered what I was doing to be most advantageous for the
whole Order, on many accounts, they told meâ€”though I was acting
secretly, and taking care my superiors should know nothingâ€”that I
might go on. If they had told me that there was the slightest
imperfection in the whole matter, I would have given up the founding
of a thousand monasteries,â€”how much more, then, this one! I am
certain of this; for though I longed to withdraw from everything more
and more, and to follow my rule and vocation in the greatest
perfection and seclusion, yet I wished to do so only conditionally:
for if I should have learnt that it would be for the greater honour of
our Lord to abandon it, I would have done so, as I did before on one
occasion,[542] in all peace
and contentment.

5. I felt as if I were in bliss, when I saw the
most Holy Sacrament reserved, with four poor
orphans,[543]â€”for they were received without
a dowry,â€”and great servants of God, established in the house. It was
our aim from the beginning to receive only those who, by their
example, might be the foundation on which we could build up what we
had in viewâ€”great perfection and prayerâ€”and effect a work which I
believed to be for the service of our Lord, and to the honour of the
habit of His glorious Mother. This was my anxiety. It was also a
great consolation to me that I had done that which our Lord had so
often commanded me to

do, and that there was one church more in this city dedicated to my
glorious father St. Joseph. Not that I
thought I had done anything myself, for I have never thought so, and
do not think so even now; I always looked upon it as the work of our
Lord. My part in it was so full of imperfections, that I look upon
myself rather as a person in fault than as one to whom any thanks are
due. But it was a great joy to me when I saw His Majesty make use of
me, who am so worthless, as His instrument in so grand a work. I was
therefore in great joy,â€”so much so, that I was, as it were, beside
myself, lost in prayer.

6. When all was doneâ€”it might have been about
three or four hours afterwardsâ€”Satan returned to the spiritual fight
against me, as I shall now relate. He suggested to me that perhaps I
had been wrong in what I had done; perhaps I had failed in my
obedience, in having brought it about without the commandment of the
Provincial. I did certainly think that the Provincial would be
displeased because I had placed the monastery under the jurisdiction
of the Bishop[544] without telling him of it
beforehand; though, as he would not acknowledge the monastery himself,
and as I had not changed mine, it seemed to me that perhaps he would
not care much about the matter. Satan also suggested whether the nuns
would be contented to live in so strict a house, whether they could
always find food, whether I had not done a silly thing, and what had I
to do with it, when I was already in a monastery? All our Lord had
said to me, all the opinions I had heard, and all the prayers which
had been almost uninterrupted for more than two years, were completely
blotted out of my memory, just as if they had never been. The only
thing I remembered was my own opinion; and every virtue, with faith
itself, was then suspended within me, so that I was without
strength to

practise any one of them, or to defend myself against so
many blows.

7. The devil also would have me ask myself how
I could think of shutting myself up in so strict a house, when I was
subject to so many infirmities; how could I bear so penitential a
life, and leave a house large and pleasant, where I had been always so
happy, and where I had so many friends?â€”perhaps I might not like
those of the new monastery; I had taken on myself a heavy obligation,
and might possibly end in despair. He also suggested that perhaps it
was he himself who had contrived it, in order to rob me of my peace
and rest, so that, being unable to pray, I might be disquieted, and so
lose my soul. Thoughts of this kind he put before me; and they were
so many, that I could think of nothing else; and with them came such
distress, obscurity, and darkness of soul as I can never describe.
When I found myself in this state, I went and placed myself before the
most Holy Sacrament, though I could not pray to Him; so great was my
anguish, that I was like one in the agony of death. I could not make
the matter known to any one, because no confessor had as yet
been appointed.

8. O my God, how wretched is this life! No joy
is lasting; everything is liable to change. Only a moment ago, I do
not think I would have exchanged my joy with any man upon earth; and
the very grounds of that joy so tormented me now, that I knew not what
to do with myself. Oh, if we did but consider carefully the events of
our life, every one of us would learn from experience how little we
ought to make either of its pleasures or of its pains! Certainly this
was, I believe, one of the most distressing moments I ever passed in
all my life; my spirit seemed to forecast the great sufferings in
store for me, though they never were so heavy as this was, if it had
continued. But our Lord would not let His poor servant suffer, for in
all my troubles He never failed to succour me; so it was now.

He gave me a little light, so that I might see it was the work of
the devil, and might understand the truth,â€”namely, that it was
nothing else but an attempt on his part to frighten me with his lies.
So I began to call to mind my great resolutions to serve our Lord, and
my desire to suffer for His sake; and I thought that if I carried them
out, I must not seek to be at rest; that if I had my trials, they
would be meritorious; and that if I had troubles, and endured them in
order to please God, it would serve me for purgatory. What was I,
then, afraid of? If I longed for tribulations, I had them now; and my
gain lay in the greatest opposition. Why, then, did I fail in courage
to serve One to whom I owed so much?

9. After making these and other reflections,
and doing great violence to myself, I promised before the most Holy
Sacrament to do all in my power to obtain permission to enter this
house, and, if I could do it with a good conscience, to make a vow of
enclosure. When I had done this, the devil fled in a moment, and left
me calm and peaceful, and I have continued so ever since; and the
enclosure, penances, and other rules of this house are to me, in their
observance, so singularly sweet and light, the joy I have is so
exceedingly great, that I am now and then thinking what on earth I
could have chosen which should be more delightful. I know not whether
this may not be the cause of my being in better health than I was ever
before, or whether it be that our Lord, because it is needful and
reasonable that I should do as all the others do, gives me this
comfort of keeping the whole rule, though with some difficulty.
However, all who know my infirmities, are astonished at my strength.
Blessed be He who giveth it all, and in whose strength I
am strong!

10. Such a contest left me greatly fatigued,
and laughing at Satan; for I saw clearly it was he. As I have never
known what it is to be discontented because

I am a nunâ€”no, not for an instantâ€”during more than twenty-eight
years of religion, I believe that our Lord suffered me to be thus
tempted, that I might understand how great a mercy He had shown me
herein, and from what torment He had delivered me, and that if I saw
any one in like trouble I might not be alarmed at it, but have pity on
her, and be able to console her.

11. Then, when this was over, I wished to rest
myself a little after our dinner; for during the whole of that night I
had scarcely rested at all, and for some nights previously I had had
much trouble and anxiety, while every day was full of toil; for the
news of what we had done had reached my monastery, and was spread
through the city. There arose a great outcry, for the reasons I
mentioned before,[545] and there was some
apparent ground for it.
The prioress[546]
sent for me to come to her immediately. When I received the order, I
went at once, leaving the nuns in great distress. I saw clearly
enough that there were troubles before me; but as the work was really
done, I did not care much for that. I prayed and implored our Lord to
help me, and my father St. Joseph to bring
me back to his house. I offered up to him all I was to suffer,
rejoicing greatly that I had the opportunity of suffering for his
honour and of doing him service. I went persuaded that I should be
put in prison at once but this would have been a great comfort,
because I should have nobody to speak to, and might have some rest and
solitude, of which I was in great need; for so much intercourse with
people had worn me out.

12. When I came and told the prioress what I
had done, she was softened a little. They all sent for the
Provincial, and the matter was reserved for him. When he came, I was
summoned to judgment, rejoicing greatly at seeing that I had something
to suffer for our Lord. I did not think I had offended against His
Majesty, or against my Order, in anything I had done;

on the contrary, I was striving with all my might to exalt my
Order, for which I would willingly have died,â€”for my whole desire was
that its rule might be observed in all perfection. I thought of
Christ receiving sentence, and I saw how this of mine would be less
than nothing. I confessed my fault, as if I had been very much to
blame; and so I seemed to every one who did not know all the reasons.
After the Provincial had rebuked me sharplyâ€”though not with the
severity which my fault deserved, nor according to the representations
made to himâ€”I would not defend myself, for I was determined to bear
it all; on the contrary, I prayed him to forgive and punish, and be no
longer angry with me.

13. I saw well enough that they condemned me
on some charges of which I was innocent, for they said I had founded
the monastery that I might be thought much of, and to make myself a
name, and for other reasons of that kind. But on other points I
understood clearly that they were speaking the truth, as when they
said that I was more wicked than the other nuns. They asked, how
could I, who had not kept the rule in that house, think of keeping it
in another of stricter observance? They said I was giving scandal in
the city, and setting up novelties. All this neither troubled nor
distressed me in the least, though I did seem to feel it, lest I
should appear to make light of what they were saying.

14. At last the Provincial commanded me to
explain my conduct before the nuns, and I had to do it. As I was
perfectly calm, and our Lord helped me, I explained everything in such
a way that neither the Provincial nor those who were present found any
reason to condemn me. Afterwards I spoke more plainly to the
Provincial alone; he was very much satisfied, and promised, if the new
monastery prospered, and the city became quiet, to give me leave to
live in it. Now the outcry in the city was very great, as I

am going to tell. Two or three days after
this, the governor, certain members of the council of the city and of
the Chapter, came together, and resolved that the new monastery should
not be allowed to exist, that it was a visible wrong to the state,
that the most Holy Sacrament should be removed, and that they would
not suffer us to go on with our work.

15. They assembled all the Ordersâ€”that is,
two learned men from eachâ€”to give their opinion. Some were silent,
others condemned; in the end, they resolved that the monastery should
be broken up.
Only one[547]â€”he was of the
Order of St. Dominic, and objected, not to
the monastery itself, but to the foundation of it in povertyâ€”said
that there was no reason why it should be thus dissolved, that the
matter ought to be well considered, that there was time enough, that
it was the affair of the bishop, with other things of that kind. This
was of great service to us, for they were angry enough to proceed to
its destruction at once, and it was fortunate they did not. In short,
the monastery must exist; our Lord was pleased to have it, and all of
them could do nothing against His will. They gave their reasons, and
showed their zeal for good, and thus, without offending God, made me
suffer together with all those who were in favour of the monastery;
there were not many, but they suffered much persecution. The
inhabitants were so excited, that they talked of nothing else; every
one condemned me, and hurried to the Provincial and to
my monastery.

16. I was no more distressed by what they said
of me than if they had said nothing; but I was afraid the monastery
would be destroyed: that was painful; so also was it to see those
persons who helped me lose their credit and suffer so much annoyance.
But as to what was said of myself I was rather glad, and if I had had
any faith I should not have been troubled at all. But a slight
failing in one virtue is enough to put all the others to sleep. I was
therefore extremely distressed during the two days on which those
assemblies of which I have spoken were held. In the extremity of my
trouble, our Lord said to me: "Knowest thou not that I am the
Almighty? what art thou afraid of?" He made me feel assured that
the monastery would not be broken up, and I was exceedingly comforted.
The informations taken were sent up to the king's council, and an
order came back for a report on the whole matter.

17. Here was the beginning of a grand lawsuit:
the city sent delegates to the court, and some must be sent also to
defend the monastery: but I had no money, nor did I know what to do.
Our Lord provided for us for the Father Provincial never ordered me
not to meddle in the matter. He is so great a lover of all that is
good, that, though he did not help us, he would not be against our
work. Neither did he authorise me to enter the house till he saw how
it would end. Those servants of God who were in it were left alone,
and did more by their prayers than I did with all my negotiations,
though the affair needed the utmost attention. Now and then
everything seemed to fail; particularly one day, before the Provincial
came, when the prioress ordered me to meddle no more with it, and to
give it up altogether. I betook myself to God, and said, "O Lord,
this house is not mine; it was founded for Thee; and now that there is
no one to take up the cause, do Thou protect it." I now felt
myself in peace, and as free from anxiety as if the whole world
were on

my side in the matter; and at once I looked upon it
as safe.[548]

18. A very great servant of God, and a lover
of all perfection,
a priest[549] who had
helped me always, went to the court on this business, and took great
pains. That
holy nobleman[550] of whom I have
often spoken laboured much on our behalf, and helped us in every way.
He had much trouble and persecution to endure, and I always found a
father in him, and do so still. All those who helped us, our Lord
filled with such fervour as made them consider our affair as their
own, as if their own life and reputation were at stake; and yet it was
nothing to them, except in so far as it regarded the service of our
Lord. His Majesty visibly helped the priest I have spoken of
before,[551] who was also one of those who
gave us great help when the Bishop sent him as his representative to
one of the great meetings. There he stood alone against all; at last
he pacified them by means of certain propositions, which obtained us a
little respite. But that was not enough; for they were ready to spend
their lives, if they could but destroy the monastery. This servant of
God was he who gave the habit and reserved the most Holy Sacrament,
and he was the object of much persecution. This attack lasted about
six months: to relate in detail the heavy trials we passed through
would be too tedious.

19. I wondered at what Satan did against a few
poor women, and also how all people thought that merely twelve women,
with a prioress, could be so hurtful to the city,â€”for they were not
to be more,â€”I say this to those who opposed us,â€”and living such
austere lives; for if any harm or error came of it, it would all fall
upon them. Harm to the city there could not be in any way; and yet
the people thought

there was so much in it, that they opposed us with a good
conscience. At last they resolved they would tolerate us if we were
endowed, and in consideration of that would suffer us to remain. I
was so distressed at the trouble of all those who were on our
sideâ€”more than at my ownâ€”that I thought it would not be amiss, till
the people were pacified, to accept an endowment, but afterwards to
resign it. At other times, too, wicked and imperfect as I am, I
thought that perhaps our Lord wished it to be so, seeing that, without
accepting it, we could not succeed; and so I consented to
the compromise.

20. The night before the settlement was to be
made, I was in prayer,â€”the discussion of the terms of it had already
begun,â€”when our Lord said to me that I must do nothing of the kind;
for if we began with an endowment, they would never allow us to resign
it. He said some other things also. The same night, the holy friar,
Peter of Alcantara, appeared to me. He was then
dead.[552] But he had written to me before
his deathâ€”for he knew the great opposition and persecution we had to
bearâ€”that he was glad the foundation was so much spoken against; it
was a sign that our Lord would be exceedingly honoured in the
monastery, seeing that Satan was so earnest against it; and that I was
by no means to consent to an endowment. He urged this upon me twice
or thrice in that letter, and said that if I persisted in this
everything would succeed according to my wish.

21. At this time I had already seen him twice
since his death, and the great glory he was in, and so I was not
afraid,â€”on the contrary, I was very glad; for he always appeared as a
glorified body in great happiness, and the vision made me very happy
too. I remember that he told me, the first time I saw him, among
other things, when speaking of the greatness of his joy, that the
penance he had done was a blessed thing for him,

in that it had obtained so great a reward. But, as I think I have
spoken of this before,[553] I will now say no
more than that he showed himself severe on this occasion: he merely
said that I was on no account to accept an endowment, and asked why it
was I did not take his advice. He then disappeared. I remained in
astonishment, and the next day told the noblemanâ€”for I went to him in
all my trouble, as to one who did more than others for us in the
matter,â€”what had taken place, and charged him not to consent to the
endowment, but to let the lawsuit go on. He was more firm on this
point than I was, and was therefore greatly pleased; he told me
afterwards how much he disliked the compromise.

22. After this, another personageâ€”a great
servant of God, and with good intentionsâ€”came forward, who, now that
the matter was in good train, advised us to put it in the hands of
learned men. This brought on trouble enough; for some of those who
helped me agreed to do so; and this plot of Satan was one of the most
difficult of all to unravel. Our Lord was my helper throughout.
Writing thus briefly, it is impossible for me to explain what took
place during the two years that passed between the beginning and the
completion of the monastery: the last six months and the first six
months were the most painful.

23. When at last the city was somewhat calm,
the licentiate father, the Dominican
friar[554] who helped us, exerted himself most
skilfully on our behalf. Though not here at the time, our Lord
brought him here at a most convenient moment for our service, and it
seems that His Majesty brought him for that purpose only. He told me
afterwards that he had no reasons for coming, and that he heard of our
affair as if by chance.

He remained here as long as we wanted him, and on going away he
prevailed, by some means, on the Father Provincial to permit me to
enter this house, and to take with me some of the
nuns[555]â€”such a permission seemed impossible
in so short a time for the performance of the Divine Officeâ€”and the
training of those who were in this house: the day of our coming was a
most joyful day
for me.[556]

24. While praying in the church, before I went
into the house, and being as it were in a trance, I saw Christ; who,
as it seemed to me, received me with great affection, placed a crown
on my head, and thanked me for what I had done for His Mother. On
another occasion, when all of us remained in the choir in prayer after
Compline, I saw our Lady in exceeding glory, in a white mantle, with
which she seemed to cover us all. I understood by that the high
degree of glory to which our Lord would raise the religious of
this house.

25. When we had begun to sing the Office, the
people began to have a great devotion to the monastery; more nuns were
received, and our Lord began to stir up those who had been our
greatest persecutors to become great benefactors, and give alms to us.
In this way they came to approve of what they had condemned; and so,
by degrees, they withdrew from the lawsuit, and would say that they
now felt it to be a work of God, since His Majesty had been pleased to
carry it on in the face of so much opposition. And now there is not
one who thinks that it would have been right not to have founded the
monastery: so they make a point of furnishing us with alms; for
without any asking on

our part, without begging of any one, our Lord moves them to,
succour us; and so we always have what is necessary for us, and I
trust in our Lord it will always
be so.[557]
As the sisters are few in number, if they do their duty as our Lord at
present by His grace enables them to do, I am confident that they will
always have it, and that they need not be a burden nor troublesome to
anybody; for our Lord will care for them, as He has hitherto done.

26. It is the greatest consolation to me to
find myself among those who are so detached. Their occupation is to
learn how they may advance in the service of God. Solitude is their
delight; and the thought of being visited by any one, even of their
nearest kindred, is a trial, unless it helps them to kindle more and
more their love of the Bridegroom. Accordingly, none come to this
house who do not aim at this; otherwise they neither give nor receive
any pleasure from their visits. Their conversation is of God only;
and so he whose conversation is different does not understand them,
and they do not understand him.

27. We keep the rule of our Lady of Carmel,
not the rule of the Mitigation, but as it was settled by Fr. Hugo,
Cardinal of Santa Sabina, and given in the year 1248, in the fifth
year of the pontificate of Innocent IV., Pope. All the trouble we had
to go through, as it seems to me, will have been endured to
good purpose.

28. And now, though the rule be somewhat
severe,â€”for we never eat flesh except in cases of necessity, fast
eight months in the year, and practise some other austerities besides,
according to the
primitive rule,[558]â€”yet the
sisters think it light on many points, and so they have other
observances, which we have thought

necessary for the more perfect keeping of it. And I trust in our
Lord that what we have begun will prosper more and more, according to
the promise of His Majesty.

29. The other house, which the holy woman of
whom I spoke before[559] laboured to
establish, has been also blessed of our Lord, and is founded in
Alcala: it did not escape serious opposition, nor fail to endure many
trials. I know that all duties of religion are observed in it,
according to our primitive rule. Our Lord grant that all may be to
the praise and glory of Himself and of the glorious Virgin Mary, whose
habit we wear. Amen.

30. I think you must be wearied, my father, by
the tedious history of this monastery; and yet it is most concise, if
you compare it with our labours, and the wonders which our Lord has
wrought here. There are many who can bear witness to this on oath. I
therefore beg of your reverence, for the love of God, should you think
fit to destroy the rest of this my writing, to preserve that part of
it which relates to this monastery, and give it, when I am dead, to
the sisters who may then be living in it. It will encourage them
greatly, who shall come here both to serve God and to labour, that
what has been thus begun may not fall to decay, but ever grow and
thrive, when they see how much our Lord has done through one so mean
and vile as I. As our Lord has been so particularly gracious to us in
the foundation of this house it seems to me that she will do very
wrong, and that she will be heavily chastised of God, who shall be the
first to relax the perfect observance of the rule, which our Lord has
here begun and countenanced, so that it may be kept

with so much sweetness: it is most evident that the observance of
it is easy, and that it can be kept with ease, by the arrangement made
for those who long to be alone with their Bridegroom Christ, in order
to live for ever in Him.

31. This is to be the perpetual aim of those
who are here, to be alone with Him alone. They are not to be more in
number than thirteen: I know this number to be the best, for I have
had many opinions about it; and I have seen in my own experience, that
to preserve our spirit, living on alms, without asking of anyone, a
larger number would be inexpedient. May they always believe one who
with much labour, and by the prayers of many people, accomplished that
which must be for the best! That this is most expedient for us will
be seen from the joy and cheerfulness, and the few troubles, we have
all had in the years we have lived in this house, as well as from the
better health than usual of us all. If any one thinks the rule hard,
let her lay the fault on her want of the true spirit, and not on the
rule of the house, seeing that delicate persons, and those not
saints,â€”because they have the true spirit,â€”can bear it all with so
much sweetness. Let others go to another monastery, where they may
save their souls in the way of their own spirit.

The Life

Chapter XXXVII

The Effects of the Divine Graces in the Soul. The Inestimable
Greatness of One Degree of Glory.

It is painful to me to recount more of the
graces which our Lord gave me than these already spoken of; and they
are so many, that nobody can believe they were ever given to one so
wicked: but in obedience

to our Lord, who has commanded me to do
it,[560] and you, my fathers, I will speak of
some of them to His glory. May it please His Majesty it may be to the
profit of some soul! For if our Lord has been thus gracious to
soâ€”miserable a thing as myself, what will He be to those who shall
serve Him truly? Let all people resolve to please His Majesty, seeing
that He gives such pledges as these even in
this life.[561]

2. In the first place, it must be understood
that, in those graces which God bestows on the soul, there are diverse
degrees of joy: for in some visions the joy and sweetness and comfort
of them so far exceed those of others, that I am amazed at the
different degrees of fruition even in this life; for it happens that
the joy and consolation which God gives in a vision or a trance are so
different, that it seems impossible for the soul to be able to desire
anything more in this world: and, so, in fact, the soul does not
desire, nor would it ask for, a greater joy. Still, since our Lord
has made me understand how great a difference there is in heaven
itself between the fruition of one and that of another, I see clearly
enough that here also, when our Lord wills, He gives not by
measure;[562] and so I wish that I myself
observed no measure in serving His Majesty, and in using my whole life
and strength and health therein; and I would not have any fault of
mine rob me of the slightest degree of fruition.

3. And so I say that if I were asked which I
preferred, to endure all the trials of the world until the end of it,
and then receive one slight degree of glory additional, or without any
suffering of any kind to enter into glory of a slightly lower degree,
I would acceptâ€”oh, how willingly!â€”all those trials for one

slight degree of fruition in the contemplation of the greatness of
God; for I know that he who understands Him best, loves Him and
praises Him best. I do not mean that I should not be satisfied, and
consider myself most blessed, to be in heaven, even if I should be in
the lowest place; for as I am one who had that place in hell, it would
be a great mercy of our Lord to admit me at all; and may it please His
Majesty to bring me thither, and take away His eyes from beholding my
grievous sins. What I mean is this,â€”if it were in my power, even if
it cost me everything, and our Lord gave me the grace to endure much
affliction, I would not through any fault of mine lose one degree of
glory. Ah, wretched that I am, who by so many faults had
forfeited all!

4. It is also to be observed that, in every
vision or revelation which our Lord in His mercy sent me, a great gain
accrued to my soul, and that in some of the visions this gain was very
great. The vision of Christ left behind an impression of His
exceeding beauty, and it remains with me to this day. One vision
alone of Him is enough to effect this; what, then, must all those
visions have done, which our Lord in His mercy sent me? One
exceedingly great blessing has resulted therefrom, and it is this,â€”I
had one very grievous fault, which was the source of much evil;
namely, whenever I found anybody well disposed towards myself, and I
liked him, I used to have such an affection for him as compelled me
always to remember and think of him, though I had no intention of
offending God: however, I was pleased to see him, to think of him and
of his good qualities. All this was so hurtful, that it brought my
soul to the very verge of destruction.

5. But ever since I saw the great
beauty[563] of our Lord, I never saw any one who
in comparison with Him seemed even endurable, or that could occupy my
thoughts. For if I but turn mine eyes inwardly for a

moment to the contemplation of the image which I have within me, I
find myself so free, that from that instant everything I see is
loathsome in comparison with the excellences and graces of which I had
a vision in our Lord. Neither is there any sweetness, nor any kind of
pleasure, which I can make any account of, compared with that which
comes from hearing but one word from His divine mouth. What, then,
must it be when I hear so many? I look upon it as impossibleâ€”unless
our Lord, for my sins, should permit the loss of this
remembranceâ€”that I should have the power to occupy myself with
anything in such a way as that I should not instantly recover my
liberty by thinking of our Lord.

6. This has happened to me with some of my
confessors, for I always have a great affection for those who have the
direction of my soul. As I really saw in them only the
representatives of God, I thought my will was always there where it is
most occupied; and as I felt very safe in the matter, I always showed
myself glad to see them.[564] They, on the
other hand, servants of God, and fearing Him, were afraid that I was
attaching and binding myself too much to them, though in a holy way,
and treated me with rudeness. This took place after I had become so
ready to obey them; for before that time I had no affection whatever
for them. I used to laugh to myself, when I saw how much they were
deceived. Though I was not always putting before them how little I
was attached to anybody, as clearly as I was convinced of it myself,
yet I did assure them of it; and they, in their further relations with
me, acknowledged how much I owed to our Lord in the matter. These
suspicions of me always arose in the beginning.

7. My love of, and trust in, our Lord, after I
had seen Him in a vision, began to grow, for my converse

with Him was so continual. I saw that, though He was God, He was
man also; that He is not surprised at the frailties of men, that He
understands our miserable nature, liable to fall continually, because
of the first sin, for the reparation of which He had come. I could
speak to Him as to a friend, though He is my Lord, because I do not
consider Him as one of our earthly Lords, who affect a power they do
not possess, who give audience at fixed hours, and to whom only
certain persons may speak. If a poor man have any business with
these, it will cost him many goings and comings, and currying favour
with others, together with much pain and labour before he can speak to
them. Ah, if such a one has business with a king! Poor people, not
of gentle blood, cannot approach him, for they must apply to those who
are his friends, and certainly these are not persons who tread the
world under their feet; for they who do this speak the truth, fear
nothing, and ought to fear nothing; they are not courtiers, because it
is not the custom of a court, where they must be silent about those
things they dislike, must not even dare to think about them, lest they
should fall into disgrace.

8. O King of glory, and Lord of all kings! oh,
how Thy kingly dignity is not hedged about by trifles of this kind!
Thy kingdom is for ever. We do not require chamberlains to introduce
us into Thy presence. The very vision of Thy person shows us at once
that Thou alone art to be called Lord. Thy Majesty is so manifest
that there is no need of a retinue or guard to make us confess that
Thou art King. An earthly king without attendants would be hardly
acknowledged; and though he might wish ever so much to be recognised,
people will not own him when he appears as others; it is necessary
that his dignity should be visible, if people are to believe in it.
This is reason enough why kings should affect so much state; for if
they had none, no one would respect them; this their

semblance of power is not in themselves, and their authority must
come to them from others.

9. O my Lord! O my King! who can describe Thy
Majesty? It is impossible not to see that Thou art Thyself the great
Ruler of all, that the beholding of Thy Majesty fills men with awe.
But I am filled with greater awe, O my Lord, when I consider Thy
humility, and the love Thou hast for such as I am. We can converse
and speak with Thee about everything whenever we will; and when we
lose our first fear and awe at the vision of Thy Majesty, we have a
greater dread of offending Thee,â€”not arising out of the fear of
punishment, O my Lord, for that is as nothing in comparison with the
loss of Thee!

10. Thus far of the blessings of this vision,
without speaking of others, which abide in the soul when it is past.
If it be from God, the fruits thereof show it, when the soul receives
light; for, as I have
often said,[565] the will
of our Lord is that the soul should be in darkness, and not see this
light. It is, therefore, nothing to be wondered at that I, knowing
myself to be so wicked as I am, should be afraid.

11. It is only just now it happened to me to
be for eight days in a state wherein it seemed that I did not, and
could not, confess my obligations to God, or remember His mercies; but
my soul was so stupefied, and occupied with I know not what nor how:
not that I had any bad thoughts; only I was so incapable of good
thoughts, that I was laughing at myself, and even rejoicing to see how
mean a soul can be if God is not always working in
it.[566] The soul sees clearly that God is not
away from it in this state, and that it is not in those great
tribulations which I have spoken of as being occasionally mine.
Though it heaps up fuel, and does the little it can do of itself, it
cannot make the fire of the love of God burn: it is a great
mercy that

even the smoke is visible, showing that it is not altogether
quenched. Our Lord will return and kindle it; and until then the
soulâ€”though it may lose its breath in blowing and arranging the
fuelâ€”seems to be doing nothing but putting it out more and more.

12. I believe that now the best course is to
be absolutely resigned, confessing that we can do nothing, and so
apply ourselvesâ€”as I
said before[567]â€”to
something else which is meritorious. Our Lord, it may be, takes away
from the soul the power of praying, that it may betake itself to
something else, and learn by experience how little it can do in its
own strength.

13. It is true I have this day been rejoicing
in our Lord, and have dared to complain of His Majesty. I said unto
Him: How is it, O my God, that it is not enough for Thee to detain me
in this wretched life, and that I should have to bear with it for the
love of Thee, and be willing to live where everything hinders the
fruition of Thee; where, besides, I must eat and sleep, transact
business, and converse with every one, and all for Thy love? how is
it, then,â€”for Thou well knowest, O my Lord, all this to be the
greatest torment unto me,â€”that, in the rare moments when I am with
Thee, Thou hidest Thyself from me? How is this consistent with Thy
compassion? How can that love Thou hast for me endure this? I
believe, O Lord, if it were possible for me to hide myself from Thee,
as Thou hidest Thyself from meâ€”I think and believe soâ€”such is Thy
love, that Thou wouldest not endure it at my hands. But Thou art with
me, and seest me always. O my Lord, I beseech Thee look to this; it
must not be; a wrong is done to one who loves Thee so much.

14. I happened to utter these words, and
others of the same kind, when I should have been thinking rather how
my place in hell was pleasant in comparison with the place I deserved.
But now and then my love makes me foolish, so that I lose my senses;
only it is

with all the sense I have that I make these complaints, and our
Lord bears it all. Blessed be so good a King!

15. Can we be thus bold with the kings of this
world? And yet I am not surprised that we dare not thus speak to a
king, for it is only reasonable that men should be afraid of him, or
even to the great lords who are his representatives. The world is now
come to such a state, that men's lives ought to be longer than they
are if we are to learn all the new customs and ceremonies of good
breeding, and yet spend any time in the service of God. I bless
myself at the sight of what is going on. The fact is, I did not know
how I was to live when I came into this house. Any negligence in
being much more ceremonious with people than they deserve is not taken
as a jest; on the contrary, they look upon it as an insult
deliberately offered; so that it becomes necessary for you to satisfy
them of your good intentions, if there happens, as I have said, to
have been any negligence; and even then, God grant they may
believe you.

16. I repeat it,â€”I certainly did not know how
to live; for my poor soul was worn out. It is told to employ all its
thoughts always on God, and that it is necessary to do so if it would
avoid many dangers. On the other hand, it finds it will not do to
fail in any one point of the world's law, under the penalty of
affronting those who look upon these things as touching their honour.
I was worn out in unceasingly giving satisfaction to people; for,
though I tried my utmost, I could not help failing in many ways in
matters which, as I have said, are not slightly thought of in
the world.

17. Is it true that in religious houses no
explanations are necessary, for it is only reasonable we should be
excused these observances? Well, that is not so; for there are people
who say that monasteries ought to be courts in politeness and
instruction. I certainly cannot understand it. I thought that
perhaps some

saint may have said that they ought to be courts to teach those who
wish to be the courtiers of heaven, and that these people
misunderstood their meaning; for if a man be careful to please God
continually, and to hate the world, as he ought to do, I do not see
how he can be equally careful to please those who live in the world in
these matters which are continually changing. If they could be learnt
once for all, it might be borne with: but as to the way of addressing
letters, there ought to be a professor's chair founded, from which
lectures should be given, so to speak, teaching us how to do it; for
the paper should on one occasion be left blank in one corner, and on
another in another corner; and a man must be addressed as the
illustrious who was not hitherto addressed as the magnificent.

18. I know not where this will stop: I am not
yet fifty, and yet I have seen so many changes during my life, that I
do not know how to live. What will they do who are only just born,
and who may live many years? Certainly I am sorry for those spiritual
people who, for certain holy purposes, are obliged to live in the
world; the cross they have to carry is a dreadful one. If they could
all agree together, and make themselves ignorant, and be willing to be
considered so in these sciences, they would set themselves free from
much trouble. But what folly am I about! from speaking of the
greatness of God I am come to speak of the meanness of the world!
Since our Lord has given me the grace to quit it, I wish to leave it
altogether. Let them settle these matters who maintain these follies
with so much labour. God grant that in the next life, where there is
no changing, we may not have to pay for them! Amen.

The Life

Chapter XXXVIII

Certain Heavenly Secrets, Visions, and Revelations. The
Effects of Them in Her Soul.

One night I was so unwell that I thought I
might be excused making my prayer; so I took my rosary, that I might
employ myself in vocal prayer, trying not to be recollected in my
understanding, though outwardly I was recollected, being in my
oratory. These little precautions are of no use when our Lord will
have it otherwise. I remained there but a few moments thus, when I
was rapt in spirit with such violence that I could make no resistance
whatever. It seemed to me that I was taken up to heaven; and the
first persons I saw there were my father and my mother. I saw other
things also; but the time was no longer than that in which the Ave Maria might be said, and I was amazed at it, looking
on it all as too great a grace for me. But as to the shortness of the
time, it might have been longer, only it was all done in a very
short space.

2. I was afraid it might be an illusion; but as
I did not think so, I knew not what to do, because I was very much
ashamed to go to my confessor about it. It was not, as it seemed to
me, because I was humble, but because I thought he would laugh at me,
and say: Oh, what a St. Paul!â€”she sees the
things of heaven; or a St. Jerome. And
because these glorious Saints had had such visions, I was so much the
more afraid, and did nothing but cry; for I did not think it possible
for me to see what they saw. At last, though I felt it exceedingly, I
went to my confessor; for I never dared to keep secret anything of
this kind, however much it distressed me to speak of them, owing to
the great fear I had of being deceived. When my confessor saw how
much I was suffering, he consoled me greatly, and gave me plenty of
good reasons why I should have no fear.

3. It happened, also, as time went on, and it
happens now from time to time, that our Lord showed me still greater
secrets. The soul, even if it would, has neither the means not the
power to see more than what He shows it; and so, each time, I saw
nothing more than what our Lord was pleased to let me see. But such
was the vision, that the least part of it was enough to make my soul
amazed, and to raise it so high that it esteems and counts as nothing
all the things of this life. I wish I could describe, in some
measure, the smallest portion of what I saw; but when I think of doing
it, I find it impossible; for the mere difference alone between the
light we have here below, and that which is seen in a vision,â€”both
being light,â€”is so great, that there is no comparison between them;
the brightness of the sun itself seems to be something exceedingly
loathsome. In a word, the imagination, however strong it may be, can
neither conceive nor picture to itself this light, nor any one of the
things which our Lord showed me in a joy so supreme that it cannot be
described; for then all the senses exult so deeply and so sweetly that
no description is possible; and so it is better to say
nothing more.

4. I was in this state once for more than an
hour, our Lord showing me wonderful things. He seemed as if He would
not leave me. He said to me, "See, My daughter, what they lose
who are against Me; do not fail to tell them of it." Ah, my Lord,
how little good my words will do them, who are made blind by their own
conduct, if Thy Majesty will not give them light! Some, to whom Thou
hast given it, there are, who have profited by the knowledge of Thy
greatness; but as they see it revealed to one so wicked and base as I
am, I look upon it as a great thing if there should be any found to
believe me. Blessed be Thy name, and blessed be Thy compassion; for I
can trace, at least in my own soul, a visible improvement. Afterwards
I wished I had continued in that trance for ever, and

that I had not returned to consciousness, because of an abiding
sense of contempt for everything here below; all seemed to be filth;
and I see how meanly we employ ourselves who are detained
on earth.

5. When I was staying with that lady of whom I
have been speaking,[568] it happened to me once
when I was suffering from my heart,â€”for, as I have
said,[569] I suffered greatly at one time,
though not so much now,â€”that she, being a person of great charity,
brought out her jewels set in gold, and precious stones of great
price, and particularly a diamond, which she valued very much. She
thought this might amuse me; but I laughed to myself, and was very
sorry to see what men made much of; for I thought of what our Lord had
laid up for us, and considered how impossible it was for me, even if I
made the effort, to have any appreciation whatever of such things,
provided our Lord did not permit me to forget what He was keeping
for us.

6. A soul in this state attains to a certain
freedom, which is so complete that none can understand it who does not
possess it. It is a real and true detachment, independent of our
efforts; God effects it all Himself; for His Majesty reveals the truth
in such a way, that it remains so deeply impressed on our souls as to
make it clear that we of ourselves could not thus acquire it in so
short a time.

7. The fear of death, also, was now very slight
in me, who had always been in great dread of it; now it seems to me
that death is a very light thing for one who serves God, because the
soul is in a moment delivered thereby out of its prison, and at rest.
This elevation of the spirit, and the vision of things so high, in
these trances seem to me to have a great likeness to the flight of the
soul from the body, in that it finds itself in a moment in the
possession of these good things. We put aside the agonies of its
dissolution, of which no great

account is to be made; for they who love God in truth, and are
utterly detached from the things of this life, must die with the
greater sweetness.

8. It seems to me, also, that the rapture was a
great help to recognise our true home, and to see that we are pilgrims
here;[570] it is a great thing to see what is
going on there and to know where we have to live; for if a person has
to go and settle in another country, it is a great help to him, in
undergoing the fatigues of his journey, that he has discovered it to
be a country where he may live in the most perfect peace. Moreover,
it makes it easy for us to think of the things of heaven, and to have
our conversation there.[571] It is a great
gain, because the mere looking up to heaven makes the soul
recollected; for as our Lord has been pleased to reveal heaven in some
degree, my soul dwells upon it in thought; and it happens occasionally
that they who are about me, and with whom I find consolation, are
those whom I know to be living in heaven, and that I look upon them
only as really alive; while those who are on earth are so dead, that
the whole world seems unable to furnish me with companions,
particularly when these impetuosities of love are upon me. Everything
seems a dream, and what I see with the bodily eyes an illusion. What
I have seen with the eyes of the soul is that which my soul desires;
and as it finds itself far away from those things, that is death.

9. In a word, it is a very great mercy which
our Lord gives to that soul to which He grants the like visions, for
they help it in much, and also in carrying a heavy cross, since
nothing satisfies it, and everything is against it; and if our Lord
did not now and then suffer these visions to be forgotten, though they
recur again and again to the memory, I know not how life could be
borne. May He be blessed and praised for

ever and ever! I implore His Majesty by that Blood which His Son
shed for me, now that, of His good pleasure, I know something of these
great blessings, and begin to have the fruition of them, that it may
not be with me as it was with Lucifer, who by his own fault forfeited
it all. I beseech Thee, for Thine own sake, not to suffer this; for I
am at times in great fear, though at others, and most frequently, the
mercy of God reassures me, for He who has delivered me from so many
sins will not withdraw His hand from under me, and let me be lost. I
pray you, my father, to beg this grace for me always.

10. The mercies, then, hitherto described, are
not, in my opinion, so great as those which I am now going to speak
of, on many accounts, because of the great blessings they have brought
with them, and because of the great fortitude which my soul derived
from them; and yet every one separately considered is so great, that
there is nothing to be compared with them.

11. One dayâ€”it was the eve of Pentecostâ€”I
went after Mass to a very lonely spot, where I used to pray very
often, and began to read about the feast in the book of a
Carthusian;[572] and reading of the marks by
which beginners, proficients, and the perfect may know that they have
the Holy Ghost, it seemed to me, when I had read of these three
states, that by the goodness of God, so far as I could understand, the
Holy Ghost was with me. I praised God for it; and calling to mind how
on another occasion, when I read this, I was very deficient,â€”for I
saw most distinctly at that time how deficient I was then from what I
saw I was now,â€”I recognised herein the great mercy of our Lord to me,
and so began to consider the place which my sins had earned for me in
hell, and praised God exceedingly, because it seemed as if I did not
know my own soul again, so great a change had come over it.

12. While thinking of these things, my soul
was carried away with extreme violence, and I knew not why. It seemed
as if it would have gone forth out of the body, for it could not
contain itself, nor was it able to hope for so great a good. The
impetuosity was so excessive that I had no power left, and, as I
think, different from what I had been used to. I knew not what ailed
my soul, nor what it desired, for it was so changed. I leaned for
support, for I could not sit, because my natural strength had
utterly failed.

13. Then I saw over my head a dove, very
different from those we usually see, for it had not the same plumage,
but wings formed of small shells shining brightly. It was larger than
an ordinary dove; I thought I heard the rustling of its wings. It
hovered above me during the space of an Ave Maria.
But such was the state of my soul, that in losing itself it lost also
the sight of the dove. My spirit grew calm with such a guest; and
yet, as I think, a grace so wonderful might have disturbed and
frightened it; and as it began to rejoice in the vision, it was
delivered from all fear, and with the joy came peace, my soul
continuing entranced. The joy of this rapture was exceedingly great;
and for the rest of that festal time I was so amazed and bewildered
that I did not know what I was doing, nor how I could have received so
great a grace. I neither heard nor saw anything, so to speak, because
of my great inward joy. From that day forth I perceived in myself a
very great progress in the highest love of God, together with a great
increase in the strength of my virtues. May He be blessed and praised
for ever! Amen.

14. On another occasion I saw that very dove
above the head of one of the Dominican fathers; but it seemed to me
that the rays and brightness of the wings were far greater. I
understood by this that he was to draw souls unto God.

15. At another time I saw our Lady putting
a cope

of exceeding whiteness on that Licentiate of the same Order, of
whom I have made mention more
than once.[573]
She told me that she gave him that cope in consideration of the
service he had rendered her by helping to found this
house,[574] that it was a sign that she would
preserve his soul pure for the future, and that he should not fall
into mortal sin. I hold it for certain that so it came to pass, for he
died within a few years; his death and the rest of his life were so
penitential, his whole life and death so holy, that, so far as
anything can be known, there cannot be a doubt on the subject. One of
the friars present at his death told me that, before he breathed his
last, he said to him that St. Thomas was
with him.[575] He died in great joy, longing to
depart out of this land of exile.

16. Since then he has appeared to me more than
once in exceedingly great glory, and told me certain things. He was
so given to prayer, that when he was dying, and would have interrupted
it if he could because of his great weakness, he was not able to do
so; for he was often in a trance. He wrote to me not long before he
died, and asked me what he was to do; for as soon as he had said Mass
he fell into a trance which lasted a long time, and which he could not
hinder. At last God gave him the reward of the many services of his
whole life.

17. I had certain visions, too, of the great
graces which our Lord bestowed upon that rector of the Society of
Jesus, of whom I have spoken already more than
once;[576] but I will not say anything of them
now, lest I should be too tedious. It was his lot once to be

in great trouble, to suffer great persecution and distress. One
day, when I was hearing Mass, I saw Christ on the Cross at the
elevation of the Host. He spoke certain words to me, which I was to
repeat to that father for his comfort, together with others, which
were to warn him beforehand of what was coming, and to remind him of
what He had suffered on his behalf, and that he must prepare for
suffering. This gave him great consolation and courage; and
everything came to pass afterwards as our Lord had told me.

18. I have seen great things of members of the
Order to which this father belongs, which is the Society of Jesus, and
of the whole Order itself; I have occasionally seen them in heaven
with white banners in their hands, and I have had other most wonderful
visions, as I am saying, about them, and therefore have a great
veneration for this Order; for I have had a great deal to do with
those who are of it, and I see that their lives are conformed to that
which our Lord gave me to understand about them.

19. One night, when I was in prayer, our Lord
spoke to me certain words, whereby He made me remember the great
wickedness of my past life. They filled me with shame and distress;
for though they were not spoken with severity, they caused a feeling
and a painfulness which were too much for me: and we feel that we make
greater progress in the knowledge of ourselves when we hear one of
these words, than we can make by a meditation of many days on our own
misery, because these words impress the truth upon us at the same time
in such a way that we cannot resist it. He set before me the former
inclinations of my will to vanities, and told me to make much of the
desire I now had that my will, which had been so ill employed, should
be fixed on Him, and that He would accept it.

20. On other occasions He told me to
remember how

I used to think it an honourable thing to go against His honour;
and, again, to remember my debt to Him, for when I was most rebellious
He was bestowing His graces upon me. If I am doing anything
wrongâ€”and my wrong-doings are manyâ€”His Majesty makes me see it in
such a way that I am utterly confounded; and as I do so often, that
happens often also. I have been found fault with by my confessors
occasionally; and on betaking myself to prayer for consolation, have
received a real reprimand.

21. To return to what I was speaking of. When
our Lord made me remember my wicked life, I wept; for as I considered
that I had then never done any good, I thought He might be about to
bestow upon me some special grace; because most frequently, when I
receive any particular mercy from our Lord, it is when I have been
previously greatly humiliated, in order that I may the more clearly
see how far I am from deserving it. I think our Lord must do it for
that end.

22. Almost immediately after this I was so
raised up in spirit that I thought myself to be, as it were, out of
the body; at least, I did not know that I was living in
it.[577] I had a vision of the most Sacred
Humanity in exceeding glory, greater than I had ever seen It in
before. I beheld It in a wonderful and clear way in the bosom of the
Father. I cannot tell how it was, for I saw myself, without seeing,
as it seemed to me, in the presence of God. My amazement was such
that I remained, as I believe, some days before I could recover
myself. I had continually before me, as present, the Majesty of the
Son of God, though not so distinctly as in the vision. I understood
this well enough; but the vision remained so impressed on my
imagination, that I could not get rid of it for some time, though it
had lasted but a moment; it is a great comfort to me, and also a
great blessing.

23. I have had this vision on three
other occasions,

and it is, I think, the highest vision of all the visions which our
Lord in His mercy showed me. The fruits of it are the very greatest,
for it seems to purify the soul in a wonderful way, and destroy, as it
were utterly, altogether the strength of our sensual nature. It is a
grand flame of fire, which seems to burn up and annihilate all the
desires of this life. For though nowâ€”glory be to God!â€”I had no
desire after vanities, I saw clearly in the vision how all things are
vanity, and how hollow are all the dignities of earth; it was a great
lesson, teaching me to raise up my desires to the Truth alone. It
impresses on the soul a sense of the presence of God such as I cannot
in any way describe, only it is very different from that which it is
in our own power to acquire on earth. It fills the soul with profound
astonishment at its own daring, and at any one else being able to dare
to offend His most awful Majesty.

24. I must have spoken now and then of the
effects of visions,[578] and of other matters
of the same kind, and I have already said that the blessings they
bring with them are of various degrees; but those of this vision are
the highest of all. When I went to Communion once I called to mind the
exceeding great majesty of Him I had seen, and considered that it was
He who is present in the most Holy Sacrament, and very often our Lord
was pleased to show Himself to me in the Host; the very hairs on my
head stood,[579] and I thought I should come
to nothing.

25. O my Lord! ah, if Thou didst not throw a
veil over Thy greatness, who would dare, being so foul and miserable,
to come in contact with Thy great Majesty? Blessed be Thou, O Lord;
may the angels and all creation praise Thee, who orderest all things
according to the measure of our weakness, so that, when we have the
fruition of Thy sovereign mercies, Thy great power may not terrify us,
so that we dare not, being a frail and miserable race, persevere in
that fruition!

26. It might happen to us as it did to the
labourerâ€”I know it to be a certain factâ€”who found a treasure beyond
his expectations, which were mean. When he saw himself in possession
of it, he was seized with melancholy, which by degrees brought him to
his grave through simple distress and anxiety of mind, because he did
not know what to do with his treasure. If he had not found it all at
once, and if others had given him portions of it by degrees,
maintaining him thereby, he might have been more happy than he had
been in his poverty, nor would it have cost him his life.

27. O Thou Treasure of the poor! how
marvellously Thou sustainest souls, showing to them, not all at once,
but by little and little, the abundance of Thy riches! When I behold
Thy great Majesty hidden beneath that which is so slight as the Host
is, I am filled with wonder, ever since that vision, at Thy great
wisdom; and I know not how it is that our Lord gives me the strength
and courage necessary to draw near to him, were it not that He who has
had such compassion on me, and still has, gives me strength, nor would
it be possible for me to be silent, or refrain from making known
marvels so great.

28. What must be the thoughts of a wretched
person such as I am, full of abominations, and who has spent her life
with so little fear of God, when she draws near to our Lord's great
Majesty, at the moment He is pleased to show Himself to my soul? How
can I open my mouth, that has uttered so many words against Him, to
receive that most glorious Body, purity and compassion itself? The
love that is visible in His most beautiful Face, sweet and tender,
pains and distresses the soul, because it has not served Him, more
than all the terrors of His Majesty. What should have been my
thoughts, then, on those two occasions when I saw what I have
described? Truly, O my Lord and my joy, I am going to say that in
some way, in these great afflictions of my soul, I have
done something

in Thy service. Ah! I know not what I am saying, for I am writing
this as if the words were
not mine,[580]
because I am troubled, and in some measure beside myself, when I call
these things to remembrance. If these thoughts were really mine, I
might well say that I had done something for Thee, O my Lord; but as I
can have no good thought if Thou givest it not, no thanks are due to
me; I am the debtor, O Lord, and it is Thou who art the
offended One.

29. Once, when I was going to Communion, I saw
with the eyes of the soul, more distinctly than with those of the
body, two devils of most hideous shape; their horns seemed to
encompass the throat of the poor priest; and I beheld my Lord, in that
great majesty of which I
have spoken,[581]
held in the hands of that priest, in the Host he was about to give me.
It was plain that those hands were those of a sinner, and I felt that
the soul of that priest was in mortal sin. What must it be, O my
Lord, to look upon Thy beauty amid shapes so hideous! The two devils
were so frightened and cowed in Thy presence, that they seemed as if
they would have willingly run away, hadst Thou but given them leave.
So troubled was I by the vision, that I knew not how I could go to
Communion. I was also in great fear, for I thought, if the vision was
from God, that His Majesty would not have allowed me to see the evil
state of that soul.[582]

30. Our Lord Himself told me to pray for that
priest; that He had allowed this in order that I might understand the
power of the words of consecration, and how God failed not to be
present, however wicked the priest might be who uttered them; and that
I might see His great goodness in that He left Himself

in the very hands of His enemy, for my good and for the good of
all. I understood clearly how the priests are under greater
obligations to be holy than other persons; and what a horrible thing
it is to receive this most Holy Sacrament unworthily, and how great is
the devil's dominion over a soul in mortal sin. It did me a great
service, and made me fully understand what I owe to God. May He be
blessed for evermore!

31. At another time I had a vision of a
different kind, which frightened me very much. I was in a place where
a certain person died, who as I understood had led a very bad life,
and that for many years. But he had been ill for two years, and in
some respects seemed to have reformed. He died without confession;
nevertheless, I did not think he would be damned. When the body had
been wrapped in the winding-sheet, I saw it laid hold of by a
multitude of devils, who seemed to toss it to and fro, and also to
treat it with great cruelty. I was terrified at the sight, for they
dragged it about with great hooks. But when I saw it carried to the
grave with all the respect and ceremoniousness common to all, I began
to think of the goodness of God, who would not allow that person to be
dishonoured, but would have the fact of his being His
enemy concealed.

32. I was almost out of my senses at the
sight. During the whole of the funeral service, I did not see one of
the evil spirits. Afterwards, when the body was about to be laid in
the grave, so great a multitude of them was therein waiting to receive
it, that I was beside myself at the sight, and it required no slight
courage on my part not to betray my distress. I thought of the
treatment which that soul would receive, when the devils had such
power over the wretched body. Would to God that all who live in
mortal sin might see what I then saw,â€”it was a fearful sight; it
would go, I believe, a great way towards making them lead
better lives.

33. All this made me know more of what I owe
to God, and of the evils from which He has delivered me. I was in
great terror. I spoke of it to my confessor, and I thought it might
be an illusion of Satan, in order to take away my good opinion of that
person, who yet was not accounted a very good Christian. The truth
is, that, whether it was an illusion or not, it makes me afraid
whenever I think of it.

34. Now that I have begun to speak of the
visions I had concerning the dead, I will mention some matters which
our Lord was pleased to reveal to me in relation to certain souls. I
will confine myself to a few for the sake of brevity, and because they
are not necessary; I mean that they are not for our profit. They told
me that one who had been our Provincialâ€”he was then of another
provinceâ€”was dead. He was a man of great virtue, with whom I had had
a great deal to do, and to whom I was under many obligations for
certain kindnesses shown me. When I heard that he was dead, I was
exceedingly troubled, because I trembled for his salvation, seeing
that he had been superior for twenty years. That is what I dread very
much; for the cure of souls seems to me to be full of danger. I went
to an oratory in great distress, and gave up to him all the good I had
ever done in my whole life,â€”it was little enough,â€”and prayed our
Lord that His merits might fill up what was wanting, in order that
this soul might be delivered up from purgatory.

35. While I was thus praying to our Lord as
well as I could, he seemed to me to rise up from the depths of the
earth on my right hand, and I saw him ascend to heaven in exceeding
great joy. He was a very old man then, but I saw him as if he were
only thirty years old, and I thought even younger, and there was a
brightness in his face. This vision passed away very quickly; but I
was so exceedingly comforted by it, that I could never again mourn his
death, although

many persons were distressed at it, for he was very much beloved.
So greatly comforted was my soul, that nothing disturbed it, neither
could I doubt the truth of the vision; I mean that it was
no illusion.

36. I had this vision about a fortnight after
he was dead; nevertheless, I did not omit to obtain prayers for him
and I prayed myself, only I could not pray with the same earnestness
that I should have done if I had not seen that vision. For when our
Lord showed him thus to me, it seemed to me afterwards, when I prayed
for him to His Majesty,â€”and I could not help it,â€”that I was like one
who gave alms to a rich man. Later on I heard an account of the death
he died in our Lordâ€”he was far away from here; it was one of such
great edification, that he left all wondering to see how recollected,
how penitent, and how humble he was when he died.

37. A nun, who was a great servant of God,
died in this house. On the next day one of the sisters was reciting
the lesson in the Office of the Dead, which was said in choir for that
nun's soul, and I was standing myself to assist her in singing the
versicle, when, in the middle of the lesson, I saw the departed nun as
I believe, in a vision; her soul seemed to rise on my right hand like
the soul of the Provincial, and ascend to heaven. This vision was not
imaginary, like the preceding, but like those others of which I have
spoken before;[583] it is not less certain,
however, than the other visions I had.

38. Another nun died in this same house of
mine, she was about eighteen or twenty years of age, and had always
been sickly. She was a great servant of God, attentive in choir, and
a person of great virtue. I certainly thought that she would not go
to purgatory, on account of her exceeding merits, because the
infirmities under which she had laboured were many. While I was
saying the Office, before she was buried,â€”

she had been dead about four hours,â€”I saw her rise in the same
place and ascend to heaven.

39. I was once in one of the colleges of the
Society of Jesus, and in one of those great sufferings which, as I
have said,[584] I occasionally had, and still
have, both in soul and body, and then so grievously that I was not
able, as it seemed to me, to have even one good thought. The night
before, one of the brothers of that house had died in it; and I, as
well as I could, was commending his soul to God, and hearing the Mass
which another father of that Society was saying for him when I became
recollected at once, and saw him go up to heaven in great glory, and
our Lord with him. I understood that His Majesty went with him by way
of special grace.

40. Another brother of our Order, a good
friar, was very ill; and when I was at Mass, I became recollected and
saw him dead, entering into heaven without going through purgatory.
He died, as I afterwards learned, at the very time of my vision. I was
amazed that he had not gone to purgatory. I understood that, having
become a friar and carefully kept the rule, the Bulls of the Order had
been of use to him, so that he did not pass into purgatory. I do not
know why I came to have this revealed to me; I think it must be
because I was to learn that it is not enough for a man to be a friar
in his habitâ€”I mean, to wear the habitâ€”to attain to that state of
high perfection which that of a friar is.

41. I will speak no more of these things,
because as I have
just said,[585] there is no
necessity for it, though our Lord has been so gracious to me as to
show me much. But in all the visions I had, I saw no souls escape
purgatory except this Carmelite father, the holy friar Peter of
Alcantara, and that Dominican father of whom I spoke
before.[586] It pleased our Lord to let me
see the degree of glory to which some souls have been raised, showing
them to me in the places they occupy. There is a great difference
between one place and another.

The Life

Chapter XXXIX

Other Graces Bestowed on the Saint. The Promises of Our Lord
to Her. Divine Locutions and Visions.

I was once importuning our Lord exceedingly
to restore the sight of a person who had claims upon me, and who was
almost wholly blind. I was very sorry for him, and afraid our Lord
would not hear me because of my sins. He appeared to me as at other
times, and began to show the wound in His left hand; with the other He
drew out the great nail that was in it, and it seemed to me that, in
drawing the nail, He tore the flesh. The greatness of the pain was
manifest, and I was very much distressed thereat. He said to me, that
He who had borne that for my sake would still more readily grant what
I asked Him, and that I was not to have any doubts about it. He
promised me there was nothing I should ask that He would not grant;
that He knew I should ask nothing that was not for His glory, and that
He would grant me what I was now praying for. Even during the time
when I did not serve Him, I should find, if I considered it, I had
asked nothing that He had not granted in an ampler manner than I had
known how to ask; how much more amply still would He grant what I
asked for, now that He knew I loved Him! I was not to doubt. I do
not think that eight days passed before our Lord restored that person
to sight. My confessor knew it forthwith. It might be that it was
not owing to my prayer; but, as I had had the vision, I have a certain
conviction that it was a grace accorded to me. I gave thanks to
His Majesty.

2. Again, a person was exceedingly ill of a
most painful disease; but, as I do not know what it was, I do not
describe it by its name here. What he had gone

through for two months was beyond all endurance; and his pain was
so great that he tore his own flesh. My confessor, the rector of whom
I have spoken,[587] went to see him; he was very
sorry for him, and told me that I must anyhow go myself and visit him;
he was one whom I might visit, for he was my kinsman. I went, and was
moved to such a tender compassion for him that I began, with the
utmost importunity, to ask our Lord to restore him to health. Herein
I saw clearly how gracious our Lord was to me, so far as I could
judge; for immediately, the next day, he was completely rid of
that pain.

3. I was once in the deepest distress, because
I knew that a person to whom I was under great obligations was about
to commit an act highly offensive to God and dishonourable to himself.
He was determined upon it. I was so much harassed by this that I did
not know what to do in order to change his purpose; and it seemed to
me as if nothing could be done. I implored God, from the bottom of my
heart, to find a way to hinder it; but till I found it I could find no
relief for the pain I felt. In my distress, I went to a very lonely
hermitage,â€”one of those belonging to this monastery,â€”in which there
is a picture of Christ bound to the pillar; and there, as I was
imploring our Lord to grant me this grace, I heard a voice of
exceeding gentleness, speaking, as it were, in a
whisper.[588] My whole body trembled, for it
made me afraid. I wished to understand what was said, but I could
not, for it all passed away in a moment.

4. When my fears had subsided, and that was
immediately, I became conscious of an inward calmness, a joy and
delight, which made me marvel how the mere hearing a voice,â€”I heard
it with my bodily ears,â€”without understanding a word, could have such
an effect on the soul. I saw by this that my prayer was

granted; and so it was; and I was freed from my anxieties about a
matter not yet accomplished, as it afterwards was, as completely as if
I saw it done. I told my confessors of it, for I had two at this
time, both of them learned men, and great servants of God.

5. I knew of a person who had resolved to serve
God in all earnestness, and had for some days given himself to prayer,
in which he bad received many graces from our Lord, but who had
abandoned his good resolutions because of certain occasions of sin in
which he was involved, and which he would not avoid; they were
extremely perilous. This caused me the utmost distress, because the
person was one for whom I had a great affection, and one to whom I
owed much. For more than a month I believe I did nothing else but
pray to God for his conversion. One day, when I was in prayer, I saw
a devil close by in a great rage, tearing to pieces some paper which
he had in his hands. That sight consoled me greatly, because it
seemed that my prayer had been heard. So it was, as I learnt
afterwards; for that person had made his confession with great
contrition, and returned to God so sincerely, that I trust in His
Majesty he will always advance further and further. May He be blessed
for ever! Amen.

6. In answer to my prayers, our Lord has very
often rescued souls from mortal sins and led others on to greater
perfection. But as to the delivering of souls out of purgatory, and
other remarkable acts, so many are the mercies of our Lord herein,
that were I to speak of them I should only weary myself and my reader.
But He has done more by me for the salvation of souls than for the
health of the body. This is very well known, and there are many to
bear witness to it.

7. At first it made me scrupulous, because I
could not help thinking that our Lord did these things in answer to my
prayer; I say nothing of the chief reason of allâ€”His pure compassion.
But now these graces are so many, and so well known to others, that
it gives

me no pain to think so. I bless His Majesty, and abase myself,
because I am still more deeply in His debt; and I believe that He
makes my desire to serve Him grow, and my love revive.

8. But what amazes me most is this: however
much I may wish to pray for those graces which our Lord sees not to be
expedient, I cannot do it; and if I try, I do so with little
earnestness, force, and spirit: it is impossible to do more, even if I
would. But it is not so as to those which His Majesty intends to
grant. These I can pray for constantly, and with great importunity;
though I do not carry them in my memory, they seem to present
themselves to me
at once.[589]

9. There is a great difference between these
two ways of praying, and I know not how to explain it. As to the
first, when I pray for those graces which our Lord does not mean to
grant,â€”even though they concern me very nearly,â€”I am like one whose
tongue is tied; who, though he would speak, yet cannot; or, if he
speaks, sees that people do not listen to him. And yet I do not fail
to force myself to pray, though not conscious of that fervour which I
have when praying for those graces which our Lord intends to give. In
the second case, I am like one who speaks clearly and intelligibly to
another, whom he sees to be a willing listener.

10. The prayer that is not to be heard is, so
to speak, like vocal prayer; the other is a prayer of contemplation so
high that our Lord shows Himself in such a way as to make us feel He
hears us, and that He delights in our prayer, and that He is about to
grant our petition. Blessed be He for ever who gives me so much and
to whom I give so little! For what is he worth, O my Lord, who does
not utterly abase himself to nothing for Thee? How much, how much,
how much,â€”I might say so a thousand times,â€”I fall short of this! It
is on this account that I do not wish

to live,â€”though there be other reasons also,â€”because I do not
live according to the obligations which bind me to Thee. What
imperfections I trace in myself! what remissness in Thy service!
Certainly, I could wish occasionally I had no sense, that I might be
unconscious of the great evil that is in me. May He who can do all
things help me!

11. When I was staying in the house of that
lady of whom I have
spoken before,[590] it was
necessary for me to be very watchful over myself, and keep continually
in mind the intrinsic vanity of all the things of this life, because
of the great esteem I was held in, and of the praises bestowed on me.
There was much there to which I might have become attached, if I had
looked only to myself; but I looked to Him who sees things as they
really are, not to let me go out of His hand. Now that I speak of
seeing things as they really are, I remember how great a trial it is
for those to whom God has granted a true insight into the things of
earth to have to discuss them with others. They wear so many
disguises, as our Lord once told me,â€”and much of what I am saying of
them is not from myself, but rather what my Heavenly Master has taught
me; and therefore, in speaking of them, when I say distinctly I
understood this, or our Lord told me this, I am very scrupulous
neither to add nor to take away one single syllable; so, when I do not
clearly remember everything exactly, that must be taken as coming from
myself, and some things, perhaps, are so altogether. I do not call
mine that which is good, for I know there is no other good in me but
only that which our Lord gave me when I was so far from deserving it:
I call that mine which I speak without having had it made known to me
by revelation.

12. But, O my God, how is it that we too often
judge even spiritual things, as we do those of the world, by our own
understanding, wresting them grievously

from their true meaning? We think we may measure our progress by
the years which we have given to the exercise of prayer; we even think
we can prescribe limits to Him who bestows His gifts not by
measure[591] when He wills, and who in six
months can give to one more than to another in many years. This is a
fact which I have so frequently observed in many persons, that I am
surprised how any of us can deny it.

13. I am certainly convinced that he will not
remain under this delusion who possesses the gift of discerning
spirits, and to whom our Lord has given real humility; for such a one
will judge of them by the fruits, by the good resolutions and
love,â€”and our Lord gives him light to understand the matter; and
herein He regards the progress and advancement of souls, not the years
they may have spent in prayer; for one person may make greater
progress in six months than another in twenty years, because, as I
said before, our Lord gives to whom He will, particularly to him who
is best disposed.

14. I see this in certain persons of tender
years who have come to this monastery,â€”God touches their hearts, and
gives them a little light and love. I speak of that brief interval in
which He gives them sweetness in prayer, and then they wait for
nothing further, and make light of every difficulty, forgetting the
necessity even of food; for they shut themselves up for ever in a
house that is unendowed, as persons who make no account of their life,
for His sake, who, they know, loves them. They give up everything,
even their own will; and it never enters into their mind that they
might be discontented in so small a house, and where enclosure is so
strictly observed. They offer themselves wholly in sacrifice
to God.

15. Oh, how willingly do I admit that they are
better than I am! and how I ought to be ashamed of

myself before God! What His Majesty has not been able to
accomplish in me in so many years,â€”it is long ago since I began to
pray, and He to bestow His graces upon me,â€”He accomplished in them in
three months, and in some of them even in three days, though he gives
them much fewer graces than He gave to me: and yet His Majesty rewards
them well; most assuredly they are not sorry for what they have done
for Him.

16. I wish, therefore, we reminded ourselves
of those long years which have gone by since we made our religious
profession. I say this to those persons, also, who have given
themselves long ago to prayer, but not for the purpose of distressing
those who in a short time have made greater progress than we have
made, by making them retrace their steps, so that they may proceed
only as we do ourselves. We must not desire those who, because of the
graces God has given them, are flying like eagles, to become like
chickens whose feet are tied. Let us rather look to His Majesty, and
give these souls the reins, if we see that they are humble; for our
Lord, who has had such compassion upon them, will not let them fall
into the abyss.

17. These souls trust themselves in the hands
of God, for the truth, which they learn by faith, helps them to do it;
and shall not we also trust them to Him, without seeking to measure
them by our measure which is that of our meanness of spirit? We must
not do it; for if we cannot ascend to the heights of their great love
and courage,â€”without experience none can comprehend themâ€”let us
humble ourselves, and not condemn them; for, by this seeming regard to
their progress, we hinder our own, and miss the opportunity our Lord
gives us to humble ourselves, to ascertain our own shortcomings, and
learn how much more detached and more near to God these souls must be
than we are, seeing that His Majesty draws so near to
them Himself.

18. I have no other intention here, and I wish
to have no other, than to express my preference for the prayer that in
a short time results in these great effects, which show themselves at
once; for it is impossible they should enable us to leave all things
only to please God, if they were not accompanied with a vehement love.
I would rather have that prayer than that which lasted many years, but
which at the end of the time, as well as at the beginning, never
issued in a resolution to do anything for God, with the exception of
some trifling services, like a grain of salt, without weight or bulk,
and which a bird might carry away in its mouth. Is it not a serious
and mortifying thought that we are making much of certain services
which we render our Lord, but which are too pitiable to be considered,
even if they were many in number? This is my case, and I am
forgetting every moment the mercies of our Lord. I do not mean that
His Majesty will not make much of them Himself, for He is good; but I
wish I made no account of them myself, or even perceived that I did
them, for they are nothing worth.

19. But, O my Lord, do Thou forgive me, and
blame me not, if I try to console myself a little with the little I
do, seeing that I do not serve Thee at all; for if I rendered Thee any
great services, I should not think of these trifles. Blessed are they
who serve Thee in great deeds; if envying these, and desiring to do
what they do, were of any help to me, I should not be so far behind
them as I am in pleasing Thee; but I am nothing worth, O my Lord; do
Thou make me of some worth, Thou who lovest me so much.

20. During one of those days, when this
monastery, which seems to have cost me some labour, was fully founded
by the arrival of the Brief from Rome, which empowered us to live
without an endowment;[592] and I was comforting
myself at seeing the whole affair concluded, and thinking of all the
trouble I had had, and

giving thanks to our Lord for having been pleased to make some use
of me,â€”it happened that I began to consider all that we had gone
through. Well, so it was; in every one of my actions, which I thought
were of some service, I traced so many faults and imperfections, now
and then but little courage, very frequently a want of faith; for
until this moment, when I see everything accomplished, I never
absolutely believed; neither, however, on the other hand, could I
doubt what our Lord said to me about the foundation of this house. I
cannot tell how it was; very often the matter seemed to me, on the one
hand, impossible; and, on the other hand, I could not be in doubt; I
mean, I could not believe that it would not be accomplished. In
short, I find that our Lord Himself, on His part, did all the good
that was done, while I did all the evil. I therefore ceased to think
of the matter, and wished never to be reminded of it again, lest I
should do myself some harm by dwelling on my many faults. Blessed be
He who, when He pleases, draws good out of all my failings! Amen.

21. I say, then, there is danger in counting
the years we have given to prayer; for, granting that there is nothing
in it against humility, it seems to me to imply something like an
appearance of thinking that we have merited, in some degree, by the
service rendered. I do not mean that there is no merit in it at all,
nor that it will not be well rewarded; yet if any spiritual person
thinks, because he has given himself to prayer for many years, that he
deserves any spiritual consolations, I am sure he will never attain to
spiritual perfection. Is it not enough that a man has merited the
protection of God, which keeps him from committing those sins into
which he fell before he began to pray, but he must also, as they say,
sue God for His own money?

22. This does not seem to me to be deep
humility, and yet it may be that it is; however, I look on it as

great boldness, for I, who have very little humility, have never
ventured upon it. It may be that I never asked for it, because I had
never served Him; perhaps, if I had served Him, I should have been
more importunate than all others with our Lord for my reward.

23. I do not mean that the soul makes no
progress in time, or that God will not reward it, if its prayer has
been humble; but I do mean that we should forget the number of years
we have been praying, because all that we can do is utterly worthless
in comparison with one drop of blood out of those which our Lord shed
for us. And if the more we serve Him, the more we become His debtors,
what is it, then, we are asking for? for, if we pay one farthing of
the debt, He gives us back a thousand ducats. For the love of God,
let us leave these questions alone, for they belong to Him.
Comparisons are always bad, even in earthly things; what, then, must
they be in that, the knowledge of which God has reserved to Himself?
His Majesty showed this clearly enough, when those who came late and
those who came early to His vineyard received the
same wages.[593]

24. I have sat down so often to write, and
have been so many days writing these three leaves,â€”for, as I have
said,[594] I had, and have still, but few
opportunities,â€”that I forgot what I had begun with, namely, the
following vision.[595]

25. I was in prayer, and saw myself on a wide
plain all alone. Round about me stood a great multitude of all kinds
of people, who hemmed me in on every side; all of them seemed to have
weapons of war in their hands, to hurt me; some had spears, others
swords; some had daggers, and others very long rapiers. In short, I
could not move away in any direction without

exposing myself to the hazard of death, and I was alone, without
any one to take my part. In this my distress of mind, not knowing
what to do, I lifted up my eyes to heaven, and saw Christ, not in
heaven, but high above me in the air, holding out His hand to me, and
there protecting me in such a way that I was no longer afraid of all
that multitude, neither could they, though they wished it, do me
any harm.

26. At first the vision seemed to have no
results; but it has been of the greatest help to me, since I
understood what it meant. Not long afterwards, I saw myself, as it
were, exposed to the like assault, and I saw that the vision
represented the world, because everything in it takes up arms against
the poor soul. We need not speak of those who are not great servants
of our Lord, nor of honours, possessions, and pleasures, with other
things of the same nature; for it is clear that the soul, if it be not
watchful, will find itself caught in a net,â€”at least, all these
things labour to ensnare it; more than this, so also do friends and
relatives, andâ€”what frightens me mostâ€”even good people. I found
myself afterwards so beset on all sides, good people thinking they
were doing good, and I knowing not how to defend myself, nor what
to do.

27. O my God, if I were to say in what way,
and in how many ways, I was tried at that time, even after that trial
of which I have just spoken, what a warning I should be giving to men
to hate the whole world utterly! It was the greatest of all the
persecutions I had to undergo. I saw myself occasionally so hemmed in
on every side, that I could do nothing else but lift up my eyes to
heaven, and cry
unto God.[596] I recollected
well what I had seen in the vision, and it helped me greatly not to
trust much in any one, for there is no one that can be relied on
except God. In all my great trials, our Lordâ€”He showed it to
meâ€”sent always

some one on His part to hold out his hand to help me, as it was
shown to me in the vision, so that I might attach myself to nothing,
but only please our Lord; and this has been enough to sustain the
little virtue I have in desiring to serve Thee: be Thou blessed
for evermore!

28. On one occasion I was exceedingly
disquieted and troubled, unable to recollect myself, fighting and
struggling with my thoughts, running upon matters which did not relate
to perfection; and, moreover, I did not think I was so detached from
all things as I used to be. When I found myself in this wretched
state, I was afraid that the graces I had received from our Lord were
illusions, and the end was that a great darkness covered my soul. In
this my distress our Lord began to speak to me: He bade me not to
harass myself, but learn, from the consideration of my misery, what it
would be if He withdrew Himself from me, and that we were never safe
while living in the flesh. It was given me to understand how this
fighting and struggling are profitable to us, because of the reward,
and it seemed to me as if our Lord were sorry for us who live in the
world. Moreover, He bade me not to suppose that He had forgotten me;
He would never abandon me, but it was necessary I should do all that I
could myself.

29. Our Lord said all this with great
tenderness and sweetness; He also spoke other most gracious words,
which I need not repeat. His Majesty, further showing His great love
for me, said to me very often: "Thou art Mine, and I am
thine." I am in the habit of saying myself, and I believe in all
sincerity: "What do I care for myself?â€”I care only for Thee, O
my Lord."

30. These words of our Lord, and the
consolation He gives me, fill me with the utmost shame, when I
remember what I am. I have said it before,
I think,[597]

and I still say now and then to my confessor, that it requires
greater courage to receive these graces than to endure the heaviest
trials. When they come, I forget, as it were, all I have done, and
there is nothing before me but a picture of my wretchedness, and my
understanding can make no reflections; this, also, seems to me at
times to be supernatural.

31. Sometimes I have such a vehement longing
for Communion; I do not think it can be expressed. One morning it
happened to rain so much as to make it seem impossible to leave the
house. When I had gone out, I was so beside myself with that longing,
that if spears had been pointed at my heart, I should have rushed upon
them; the rain was nothing. When I entered the church I fell into a
deep trance, and saw heaven openâ€”not a door only, as I used to see at
other times. I beheld the throne which, as I have told you, my
father, I saw at other times, with another throne above it, whereon,
though I saw not, I understood by a certain inexplicable knowledge
that the Godhead dwelt.

32. The throne seemed to me to be supported by
certain animals; I believe I saw the form of them: I thought they
might be the Evangelists. But how the throne was arrayed, and Him who
sat on it I did not see, but only an exceedingly great multitude of
angels, who seemed to me more beautiful, beyond all comparison, than
those I had seen in heaven. I thought they were, perhaps, the
seraphim or cherubim, for they were very different in their glory, and
seemingly all on fire. The difference is great, as I said
before;[598] and the joy I then felt cannot be
described, either in writing or by word of mouth; it is inconceivable
to any one what has not had experience of it. I felt that everything
man can desire was all there together, and I saw nothing; they told
me, but I know not who, that all I could do there was to understand
that I

could understand nothing, and see how everything was nothing in
comparison with that. So it was; my soul afterwards was vexed to see
that it could rest on any created thing: how much more, then, if it
had any affection thereto; for everything seemed to me but an
ant-hill. I communicated, and remained during Mass. I know not how
it was: I thought I had been but a few minutes, and was amazed when
the clock struck; I had been two hours in that trance and joy.

33. I was afterwards amazed at this fire,
which seems to spring forth out of the true love of God; for though I
might long for it, labour for it, and annihilate myself in the effort
to obtain it, I can do nothing towards procuring a single spark of it
myself, because it all comes of the good pleasure of His Majesty, as I
said on
another occasion.[599] It seems to
burn up the old man, with his faults, his lukewarmness, and misery; so
that it is like the phoenix, of which I have read that it comes forth,
after being burnt, out of its own ashes into a new life. Thus it is
with the soul: it is changed into another, whose desires are
different, and whose strength is great. It seems to be no longer what
it was before, and begins to walk renewed in purity in the ways of our
Lord. When I was praying to Him that thus it might be with me, and
that I might begin His service anew, He said to me: "The
comparison thou hast made is good; take care never to forget it, that
thou mayest always labour to advance."

34. Once, when I was doubting, as I said just
now,[600] whether these visions came from God
or not, our Lord appeared, and, with some severity, said to me: "O
children of men, how long will you remain hard of heart!" I was
to examine myself carefully on one subject,â€”whether I had given
myself up wholly to Him, or not. If I had,â€”and it was so,â€”I
was to

believe that He would not suffer me to perish. I was very much
afflicted when He spoke thus, but He turned to me with great
tenderness and sweetness, and bade me not to distress myself, for He
knew already that, so far as it lay in my power, I would not fail in
anything that was for His service; that He Himself would do what I
wished,â€”and so He did grant what I was then praying for; that I was
to consider my love for Him, which was daily growing in me, for I
should see by this that these visions did not come from Satan; that I
must not imagine that God would ever allow the devil to have so much
power over the souls of His servants as to give them such clearness of
understanding and such peace as I had.

35. He gave me also to understand that, when
such and so many persons had told me the visions were from God, I
should do wrong if I did not
believe them.[601]

36. Once, when I was reciting the psalm Quicumque vult,[602] I was given
to understand the mystery of One God and Three Persons with so much
clearness, that I was greatly astonished and consoled at the same
time. This was of the greatest help to me, for it enabled me to know
more of the greatness and marvels of God; and when I think of the most
Holy Trinity, or hear It spoken of, I seem to understand the mystery,
and a great joy it is.

37. One dayâ€”it was the Feast of the
Assumption of the Queen of the Angels, and our Ladyâ€”our Lord was
pleased to grant me this grace. In a trance He made me behold her
going up to heaven, the joy and solemnity of her reception there, as
well as the place where she now is. To describe it is more than I can
do; the joy that filled my soul at the sight of such great glory was
excessive. The effects of the vision were great; it made me long to
endure still greater

trials: and I had a vehement desire to serve our Lady, because of
her great merits.

38. Once, in one of the colleges of the
Society of Jesus, when the brothers of the house were communicating, I
saw an exceedingly rich canopy above their heads. I saw this twice;
but I never saw it when others were receiving Communion.

The Life

Chapter XL

Visions, Revelations, and Locutions.

One day, in prayer, the sweetness of which
was so great that, knowing how unworthy I was of so great a blessing,
I began to think how much I had deserved to be in that place which I
had seen prepared for me in hell,â€”for, as I said
before,[603] I never forget the way I saw myself
there,â€”as I was thinking of this, my soul began to be more and more
on fire, and I was carried away in spirit in a way I cannot describe.
It seemed to me as if I had been absorbed in, and filled with, that
grandeur of God which, on another occasion, I had
felt.[604] In that majesty it was given me to
understand one truth, which is the fulness of all truth, but I cannot
tell how, for I saw nothing. It was said to me, I saw not by whom,
but I knew well enough it was the Truth Itself: "This I am doing
to thee is not a slight matter; it is one of those things for which
thou owest Me much; for all the evil in the world comes from ignorance
of the truths of the holy writings in their clear simplicity, of which
not one iota shall
pass away."[605] I
thought that I had always believed this, and that all the faithful
also believed it. Then he said,: "Ah, My daughter, they are few
who love

Me in truth; for if men loved Me, I should not hide My secrets from
them. Knowest thou what it is to love Me in truth? It is to admit
everything to be a lie which is not pleasing unto Me. Now thou dost
not understand it, but thou shalt understand it clearly hereafter, in
the profit it will be to thy soul."

2. Our Lord be praised, so I found it; for
after this vision I look upon everything which does not tend to the
service of God as vanity and lies. I cannot tell how much I am
convinced of this, nor how sorry I am for those whom I see living in
darkness, not knowing the truth. I derived other great blessings also
from this, some of which I will here speak of, others I
cannot describe.

3. Our Lord at the same time uttered a special
word of most exceeding graciousness. I know not how it was done, for
I saw nothing; but I was filled, in a way which also I cannot
describe, with exceeding strength and earnestness of purpose to
observe with all my might everything contained in the divine writings.
I thought that I could rise above every possible hindrance put in
my way.

4. Of this divine truth, which was put before
me I know not how, there remains imprinted within me a truthâ€”I cannot
give it a nameâ€”which fills me with a new reverence for God; it gives
me a notion of His Majesty and power in a way which I cannot explain.
I can understand that it is something very high. I had a very great
desire never to speak of anything but of those deep truths which far
surpass all that is spoken of here in the world,â€”and so the living in
it began to be painful to me.

5. The vision left me in great tenderness, joy,
and humility. It seemed to me, though I knew not how, that our Lord
now gave me great things; and I had no suspicion whatever of any
illusion. I saw nothing; but I understood how great a blessing it is
to make no account of anything which does not lead us nearer

unto God. I also understood what it is for a soul to be walking in
the truth, in the presence of the Truth itself. What I understood is
this: that our Lord gave me to understand that He is Himself the
very Truth.

6. All this I am speaking of I learnt at times
by means of words uttered; at other times I learnt some things without
the help of words, and that more clearly than those other things which
were told me in words. I understood exceedingly deep truths
concerning the Truth, more than I could have done through the teaching
of many learned men. It seems to me that learned men never could have
thus impressed upon me, nor so clearly explained to me, the vanity of
this world.

7. The Truth of which I am speaking, and which
I was given to see, is Truth Itself, in Itself. It has neither
beginning nor end. All other truths depend on this Truth, as all
other loves depend on this love, and all other grandeurs on this
grandeur. I understood it all, notwithstanding that my words are
obscure in comparison with that distinctness with which it pleased our
Lord to show it to me. What think you must be the power of His
Majesty, seeing that in so short a time it leaves so great a blessing
and such an impression on the soul? O Grandeur! Majesty of mine! what
is it Thou art doing, O my Lord Almighty! Consider who it is to whom
Thou givest blessings so great! Dost Thou not remember that this my
soul has been an abyss of lies and a sea of vanities, and all my
fault? Though Thou hadst given me a natural hatred of lying yet I did
involve myself in many lying ways. How is this, O my God? how can it
be that mercies and graces so great should fall to the lot of one who
has so ill deserved them at Thy hands?

8. Once, when I was with the whole community
reciting the Office, my soul became suddenly recollected, and seemed
to me all bright as a mirror, clear behind, sideways, upwards, and
downwards; and in the centre

of it I saw Christ our Lord, as I usually see Him. It seemed to me
that I saw Him distinctly in every part of my soul, as in a mirror,
and at the same time the mirror was all sculpturedâ€”I cannot explain
itâ€”in our Lord Himself by a most loving communication which I can
never describe. I know that this vision was a great blessing to me,
and is still whenever I remember it, particularly after Communion.

9. I understood by it, that, when a soul is in
mortal sin, this mirror becomes clouded with a thick vapour, and
utterly obscured, so that our Lord is neither visible nor present,
though He is always present in the conservation of its being. In
heretics, the mirror is, as it were, broken in pieces, and that is
worse than being dimmed. There is a very great difference between
seeing this and describing it, for it can hardly be explained. But it
has done me great good; it has also made me very sorry on account of
those times when I dimmed the lustre of my soul by my sins, so that I
could not see our Lord.

10. This vision seems to me very profitable to
recollected persons, to teach them to look upon our Lord as being in
the innermost part of their soul. It is a method of looking upon Him
which penetrates us more thoroughly, and is much more fruitful, than
that of looking upon Him as external to us, as I have said
elsewhere,[606] and as it is laid down in books
on prayer, where they speak of where we are to seek God. The glorious
St. Augustin,[607] in
particular, says so, when he says that neither in the streets of the
city, nor in pleasures, nor in any place whatever where he sought Him,
did he find Him as he found Him within himself. This is clearly the
best way; we need not go up to heaven, nor any further than our own
selves, for that

would only distress the spirit and distract the soul, and bring but
little fruit.

11. I should like to point out one result of a
deep trance; it may be that some are aware of it. When the time is
over during which the soul was in union, wherein all its powers were
wholly absorbed,â€”it lasts, as I
have said,[608]
but a moment,â€”the soul continues still to be recollected, unable to
recover itself even in outward things; for the two powersâ€”the memory
and the understandingâ€”are, as it were, in a frenzy, extremely
disordered. This, I say, happens occasionally, particularly in the
beginnings. I am thinking whether it does not result from this: that
our natural weakness cannot endure the vehemence of the spirit, which
is so great, and that the imagination is enfeebled. I know it to be
so with some. I think it best for these to force themselves to give
up prayer at that time, and resume it afterwards, when they may
recover what they have lost, and not do everything at once, for in
that case much harm might come of it. I know this by experience, as
well as the necessity of considering what our health can bear.

12. Experience is necessary throughout, so
also is a spiritual director; for when the soul has reached this
point, there are many matters which must be referred to the director.
If, after seeking such a one, the soul cannot find him, our Lord will
not fail that soul, seeing that He has not failed me, who am what I
am: They are not many, I believe, who know by experience so many
things, and without experience it is useless to treat a soul at all,
for nothing will come of it, save only trouble and distress. But our
Lord will take this also into account, and for that reason it is
always best to refer the matter to the director. I have already more
than once said this,[609] and even all I am
saying now, only I do not distinctly remember it; but I do see that
it is

of great importance, particularly to women, that they should go to
their confessor, and that he should be a man of experience herein.
There are many more women than men to whom our Lord gives these
graces; I have heard the holy friar Peter of Alcantara say so, and,
indeed, I know it myself. He used to say that women made greater
progress in this way than men did; and he gave excellent reasons for
his opinion, all in favour of women; but there is no necessity for
repeating them here.

13. Once, when in prayer, I had a vision, for
a moment,â€”I saw nothing distinctly, but the vision was most
clear,â€”how all things are seen in God and how all things are
comprehended in Him. I cannot in any way explain it, but the vision
remains most deeply impressed on my soul, and is one of those grand
graces which our Lord wrought in me, and one of those which put me to
the greatest shame and confusion whenever I call my sins to
remembrance. I believe, if it had pleased our Lord that I had seen
this at an earlier time, or if they saw it who sin against Him, we
should have neither the heart nor the daring to do so. I had the
vision, I repeat it, but I cannot say that I saw anything; however, I
must have seen something, seeing that I explain it by an illustration,
only it must have been in a way so subtile and delicate that the
understanding is unable to reach it, or I am so ignorant in all that
relates to these visions, which seem to be not imaginary. In some of
these visions there must be something imaginary, only, as the powers
of the soul are then in a trance, they are not able afterwards to
retain the forms, as our Lord showed them to it then, and as He would
have it rejoice in them.

14. Let us suppose the Godhead to be a most
brilliant diamond, much larger than the whole world, or a mirror like
that to which I compared the soul in a former
vision,[610] only in a way so high that
I cannot

possibly describe it; and that all our actions are seen in that
diamond, which is of such dimensions as to include everything, because
nothing can be beyond it. It was a fearful thing for me to see, in so
short a time, so many things together in that brilliant diamond, and a
most piteous thing too, whenever I think of it, to see such foul
things as my sins present in the pure brilliancy of that light.

15. So it is, whenever I remember it, I do not
know how to bear it, and I was then so ashamed of myself that I knew
not where to hide myself. Oh, that some one could make this plain to
those who commit most foul and filthy sins, that they may remember
their sins are not secret, and that God most justly resents them,
seeing that they are wrought in the very presence of His Majesty, and
that we are demeaning ourselves so irreverently before Him! I saw,
too, how completely hell is deserved for only one mortal sin, and how
impossible it is to understand the exceeding great wickedness of
committing it in the sight of majesty so great, and how abhorrent to
His nature such actions are. In this we see more and more of His
mercifulness, who, though we all know His hatred of sin, yet suffers
us to live.

16. The vision made me also reflect, that if
one such vision as this fills the souls with such awe, what will it be
in the day of judgment, when His Majesty will appear distinctly, and
when we too shall look on the sins we have committed! O my God, I
have been, oh, how blind! I have often been amazed at what I have
written; and you, my father, be you not amazed at anything, but that I
am still living,â€”I, who see such things, and know myself to be what I
am. Blessed for ever be He who has borne with me so long!

17. Once, in prayer, with much recollection,
sweetness, and repose, I saw myself, as it seemed to me, surrounded by
angels, and was close unto God. I began to intercede with His Majesty
on behalf of the

church. I was given to understand the great services which a
particular Order would render in the latter days, and the courage with
which its members would maintain the faith.

18. I was praying before the most Holy
Sacrament one day; I had a vision of a Saint, whose Order was in some
degree fallen. In his hands he held a large book, which he opened, and
then told me to read certain words, written in large and very legible
letters; they were to this effect: "In times to come this Order
will flourish; it will have
many martyrs."[611]

19. On another occasion, when I was at Matins
in choir, six or seven persons, who seemed to me to be of this Order,
appeared and stood before me with swords in their hands. The meaning
of that, as I think, is that they are to be defenders of the faith;
for at another time, when I was in prayer, I fell into a trance, and
stood in spirit on a wide plain, where many persons were fighting; and
the members of this Order were fighting with great zeal. Their faces
were beautiful, and as it were on fire. Many they laid low on the
ground defeated, others they killed. It seemed to me to be a battle
with heretics.

20. I have seen this glorious Saint
occasionally, and he has told me certain things, and thanked me for
praying for his Order, and he has promised to pray for me to our Lord.
I do not say which Orders these

are,â€”our Lord, if it so pleased Him, could make them known,â€”lest
the others should be aggrieved. Let every Order, or every member of
them by himself, labour, that by his means our Lord would so bless his
own Order that it may serve Him in the present grave necessities of
His Church. Blessed are they whose lives are so spent.

21. I was once asked by a person to pray God
to let him know whether his acceptance of a bishopric would be for the
service of God. After Communion our Lord said to me: "When he
shall have clearly and really understood that true dominion consists
in possessing nothing, he may then accept it." I understood by
this that he who is to be in dignity must be very far from wishing or
desiring it, or at least he must not seek it.

22. These and many other graces our Lord has
given, and is giving continually, to me a sinner. I do not think it
is necessary to speak of them, because the state of my soul can be
ascertained from what I have written; so also can the spirit which our
Lord has given me. May He be blessed for ever, who has been so
mindful of me!

23. Our Lord said to me once, consoling me,
that I was not to distress myself,â€”this He said most
lovingly,â€”because in this life we could not continue in the same
state.[612] At one time I should be fervent,
at another not; now disquieted, and again at peace, and tempted; but I
must hope in Him, and fear not.

24. I was one day thinking whether it was a
want of detachment in me to take pleasure in the company of those who
had the care of my soul, and to have an affection for them, and to
comfort myself with those whom I see to be very great servants of
God.[613] Our Lord said to me: "It is not
a virtue in a sick man to abstain from thanking and loving the
physician who

seems to restore him to health when he is in danger of death. What
should I have done without these persons? The conversation of good
people was never hurtful; my words should always be weighed, and holy;
and I was not to cease my relations with them, for they would do me
good rather than harm."

25. This was a great comfort to me, because,
now and then, I wished to abstain from converse with all people; for
it seemed to me that I was attached to them. Always, in all things,
did our Lord console me, even to the showing me how I was to treat
those who were weak, and some other people also. Never did He cease
to take care of me. I am sometimes distressed to see how little I do
in His service, and how I am forced to spend time in taking care of a
body so weak and worthless as mine is, more than I wish.

26. I was in prayer one night, when it was
time to go to sleep. I was in very great pain, and my usual sickness
was coming on.[614] I saw myself so great a
slave to myself, and, on the other hand, the spirit asked for time for
itself. I was so much distressed that I began to weep exceedingly,
and to be very sorry. This has happened to me not once only, but, as
I am saying, very often; and it seems to make me weary of myself, so
that at the time I hold myself literally in abhorrence. Habitually,
however, I know that I do not hate myself, and I never fail to take
that which I see to be necessary for me. May our Lord grant that I do
not take more than is necessary!â€”I am afraid I do.

27. When I was thus distressed, our Lord
appeared unto me. He comforted me greatly, and told me I must do this
for His love, and bear it; my life was necessary now. And so, I
believe, I have never known real pain since I resolved to serve my
Lord and my Consoler with all my strength; for though he would leave
me to suffer a little, yet He would console

me in such a way that I am doing nothing when I long for troubles.
And it seems to me there is nothing worth living for but this, and
suffering is what I most heartily pray to God for. I say to Him
sometimes, with my whole heart: "O Lord, either to die or to
suffer! I ask of Thee nothing else for myself." It is a comfort
to me to hear the clock strike, because I seem to have come a little
nearer to the vision of God, in that another hour of my life has
passed away.

28. At other times I am in such a state that I
do not feel that I am living, nor yet do I desire to die but I am
lukewarm, and darkness surrounds me on every side, as I said
before;[615] for I am very often in great
trouble. It pleased our Lord that the graces He wrought in me should
be published abroad,[616] as He told me some
years ago they should be. It was a great pain to me, and I have borne
much on that account even to this day, as you, my father, know,
because every man explains them in his own sense. But my comfort
herein is that it is not my fault that they are become known, for I
was extremely cautious never to speak of them but to my confessors, or
to persons who I knew had heard of them from them. I was silent,
however, not out of humility, but because, as I said
before,[617] it gave me great pain to speak of
them even to my confessors.

29. Now, however,â€”to God be the
glory!â€”though many speak against me, but out of a zeal for goodness,
and though some are afraid to speak to me, and even to hear my
confession, and though others have much to say about me, because I see
that our Lord willed by this means to provide help for many
souls,â€”and also because I see clearly and keep in mind how much He
would suffer, if only for the gaining of one,â€”I do not care about it
at all.

30. I know not why it is so, but perhaps the
reason may in some measure be that His Majesty has placed

me in this corner out of the way, where the enclosure is so strict,
and where I am as one that is dead. I thought that no one would
remember me, but I am not so much forgotten as I wish I was, for I am
forced to speak to some people. But as I am in a house where none may
see me, it seems as if our Lord had been pleased to bring me to a
haven, which I trust in His Majesty will be secure. Now that I am out
of the world, with companions holy and few in number, I look down on
the world as from a great height, and care very little what people say
or know about me. I think much more of one soul's advancement, even
if it were but slight, than of all that people may say of me; and
since I am settled here it has pleased our Lord that all my desires
tend to this.

31. He has made my life to me now a kind of
sleep; for almost always what I see seems to me to be seen as in a
dream, nor have I any great sense either of pleasure or of pain. If
matters occur which may occasion either, the sense of it passes away
so quickly that it astonishes me, and leaves an impression as if I had
been dreaming,â€”and this is the simple truth; for if I wished
afterwards to delight in that pleasure, or be sorry over that pain, it
is not in my power to do so: just as a sensible person feels neither
pain nor pleasure in the memory of a dream that is past; for now our
Lord has roused my soul out of that state which, because I was not
mortified nor dead to the things of this world, made me feel as I did,
and His Majesty does not wish me to become blind again.

32. This is the way I live now, my lord and
father; do you, my father, pray to God that He would take me to
Himself, or enable me to serve Him. May it please His Majesty that
what I have written may be of some use to you, my father! I have so
little time,[618] and therefore my trouble has
been great in writing; but it will be a blessed trouble if I have
succeeded in

saying anything that will cause one single act of praise to our
Lord. If that were the case, I should look upon myself as
sufficiently rewarded, even if you, my father, burnt at once what I
have written. I would rather it were not burnt before those three saw
it, whom you, my father, know of, because they are, and have been, my
confessors; for if it be bad, it is right they should lose the good
opinion they have of me; and if it be good, they are good and learned
men, and I know they will recognise its source, and give praise to Him
who hath spoken through me.

33. May His Majesty ever be your protector, and
make you so great a saint that your spirit and light may show the way
to me a miserable creature, so wanting in humility and so bold as to
have ventured to write on subjects so high! May our Lord grant I have
not fallen into any errors in the matter, for I had the intention and
the desire to be accurate and obedient, and also that through me He
might, in some measure, have glory,â€”because that is what I have been
praying for these many years; and as my good works are inefficient for
that end, I have ventured to put in order this my disordered life.
Still, I have not wasted more time, nor given it more attention, than
was necessary for writing it; yet I have put down all that has
happened to me with all the simplicity and sincerity possible.

34. May our Lord, who is all-powerful,
grantâ€”and He can if He willâ€”that I may attain to the doing of His
will in all things! May He never suffer this soul to be lost, which
He so often, in so many ways, and by so many means, has rescued from
hell and drawn unto Himself! Amen.

I.H.S.

The Holy Spirit be ever with you, my
father.[619] Amen. It would not be anything
improper if I were to magnify my labour in writing this, to oblige you
to be very careful to recommend me to our Lord; for indeed I may well
do so, considering what I have gone through in giving this account of
myself, and in retracing my manifold wretchedness. But, still, I can
say with truth that I felt it more difficult to speak of the graces
which I have received from our Lord than to speak of my offences
against His Majesty. You, my father, commanded me to write at length;
that is what I have done, on condition that you will do what you
promised, namely, destroy everything in it that has the appearance of
being wrong. I had not yet read it through after I had written it,
when your reverence sent for it. Some things in it may not be very
clearly explained, and there may be some repetitions; for the time I
could give to it was so short, that I could not stop to see what I was
writing. I entreat your reverence to correct it and have it copied,
if it is to be sent on to the Father-Master,
Avila,[620] for perhaps some one may recognise
the handwriting. I wish very much you would order it so that he might
see it, for I began to write it with a view to that I shall be greatly
comforted if he shall think that I am on a safe road, now that, so far
as it concerns me, there is nothing more to be done.

Your reverence will do in all things that which to you shall seem
good, and you will look upon yourself as under an obligation to take
care of one who trusts her soul to your keeping. I will pray for the
soul of your reverence to our Lord, so long as I live.

You will, therefore, be diligent in His service, in order that you
may be able to help me; for your reverence will see by what I have
written how profitable it is to give oneself, as your reverence has
begun to do, wholly unto Him who gives Himself to us so utterly
without measure.

Blessed be His Majesty for ever! I hope of His mercy we shall see
one another one day, when we, your reverence and myself, shall see
more clearly the great mercies He has shown us, and when we shall
praise Him for ever and ever. Amen. This book was finished in
June, 1562.

"This date refers to the first account which the holy Mother
Teresa of Jesus wrote of her life; it was not then divided into
chapters. Afterwards she made this copy, and inserted in it many
things which had taken place subsequent to this date, such as the
foundation of the monastery of St. Joseph
of Avila, as in p. 169.[621]â€”Fray Do BaÃ±es."

The Relations or Manifestations

Relation I

The
Relations or Manifestations of Her
Spiritual State
Which
St. Teresa Submitted to Her Confessors.

Sent to St. Peter of Alcantara in
1560 from the Monastery of the
Incarnation, Avila.[622]

The method of prayer I observe at present is
this: when I am in prayer, it is very rarely that I can use the
understanding, because the soul becomes at once recollected, remains
in repose, or falls into a trance, so that I cannot in any way have
the use of the faculties

and the senses,â€”so much so, that the hearing alone is left; but
then it does not help me to understand anything.

2. It often happens, when I am not even thinking
of the things of God, but engaged in other matters, and when prayer
seems to be beyond my power, whatever efforts I might make, because of
the great aridity I am in, bodily pains contributing thereto, that
this recollection or elevation of spirit comes upon me so suddenly
that I cannot withstand it, and the fruits and blessings it brings
with it are in a moment mine: and this, without my having had a
vision, or heard anything, or knowing where I am, except that when

the soul seems to be lost I see it make great progress, which I
could not have made if I had laboured for a whole year, so great is
my gain.

3. At other times certain excessive
impetuosities occur, accompanied with a certain fainting away of the
soul for God, so that I have no control over
myself;[623] my life seems to have come to an
end, and so it makes me cry out and call upon God; and this comes upon
me with great vehemence. Sometimes I cannot remain sitting, so great
is the oppression of the heart; and this pain comes on without my
doing anything to cause it, and the nature of it is such that my soul
would be glad never to be without it while I live. And the longings I
have are longings not to live; and they come on because it seems as if
I must live on without being able to find any relief, for relief comes
from the vision of God, which comes by death, and death is what I
cannot take; and with all this my soul thinks that all except itself
are filled with consolations, and that all find help in their
troubles, but not itself. The distress thus occasioned is so intense
that, if our Lord did not relieve it by throwing it into a trance,
whereby all is made calm, and the soul rests in great quiet and is
satisfied, now by seeing something of that which it desires, now by
hearing other things, it would seem to be impossible for it to be
delivered from this pain.

4. At other times there come upon me certain
desires to serve God, with a vehemence so great that I cannot describe
it, and accompanied with a certain pain at seeing how unprofitable I
am. It seems to me then that there is nothing in the world, neither
death, nor martyrdom, that I could not easily endure. This
conviction, too, is not the result of any reflection, but comes in a
moment. I am wholly changed, and I know not whence cometh such great
courage. I think I should live to raise my voice, and publish to

all the world how important it is for men not to be satisfied with
the common way, and how great the good is that God will give us if we
prepare ourselves to receive it. I say it again, these desires are
such that I am melted away in myself, for I seem to desire what I
cannot have. The body seems to me to hold me in prison, through its
inability to serve God and
my state[624] in
anything; for if it were not for the body, I might do very great
things, so far as my strength would allow; and thus, because I see
myself without any power whatever to serve God, I feel this pain in a
way wholly indescribable; the issue is delight, recollection, and the
consolation of God.

5. Again, it has happened, when these longings
to serve Him come upon me, that I wish to do penance, but I am not
able. It would be a great relief to me, and it does relieve and cheer
me, though what I do is almost nothing, because of my bodily weakness;
and yet, if I were to give way to these my longings, I believe I
should observe no moderation.

6. Sometimes, if I have to speak to any one, I
am greatly distressed, and I suffer so much that it makes me weep
abundantly; for my whole desire is to be alone, and solitude comforts
me, though at times I neither pray nor read, and
conversationâ€”particularly of kindred and connectionsâ€”seems
oppressive, and myself to be as a slave, except when I speak to those
whose conversation is of prayer and matters of the soul,â€”in these I
find comfort and joy;[625] yet these occasionally
are too much for me, and I would rather not see them, but go where I
might be alone: though this is not often the case, for those
especially who direct my conscience always console me.

7. At other times it gives me much pain that I
must eat and sleep, and that I see I cannot forego these things, being
less able to do so than any one. I submit

that I may serve God, and thus I offer up those actions to him.
Time seems to me too short, and that I have not enough for my prayer,
for I should never be tired of being alone. I am always wishing I had
time for reading, for I have been always fond of reading. I read very
little, for when I take up a book I become recollected through the
pleasure it gives me, and thus my reading is turned into prayer: and
it is but rarely, for I have many occupations; and though they are
good, they do not give me the pleasure which reading would give. And
thus I am always wishing for more time, and everything becomes
disagreeable, so I believe, because I see I cannot do what I wish
and desire.

8. All these desires, with an increase in
virtue, have been given me by our Lord since He raised me to this
prayer of quiet, and sent these raptures. I find myself so improved
that I look on myself as being a mass of perdition before this. These
raptures and visions leave me in possession of the blessings I shall
now speak of; and I maintain that, if there be any good in me, they
are the occasions of it.

9. I have made a very strong resolution never to
offend God, not even venially. I would rather die a thousand deaths
than do anything of the kind knowingly. I am resolved never to leave
undone anything I may consider to be the more perfect, or more for the
honour of our Lord, if he who has the care of my soul and directs me
tells me I may do it. Cost me what pain it might, I would not leave
such an act undone for all the treasure of the world. If I were to do
so, I do not think I could have the face to ask anything of God our
Lord, or to make my prayer; and yet, for all this, I have many faults
and imperfections. I am obedient to my
confessor,[626] though imperfectly; but if I know
that he wishes or commands anything, I would not leave that undone, so
far as I understand it; if I did so, I should think myself under a
grievous delusion.

10. I have a longing for poverty, though not
free from imperfection; however, I believe, if I had wealth, I would
not reserve any revenue, nor hoard money for myself, nor do I care for
it; I wish to have only what is necessary. Nevertheless, I feel that
I am very defective in this virtue; for, though I desire nothing for
myself, I should like to have something to give away: still, I desire
no revenue, nor anything
for myself.[627]

11. In almost all the visions I have had, I
have found good, if it be not a delusion of Satan; herein I submit
myself to the judgment of my confessors.

12. As to fine and beautiful things, such as
water, fields, perfume, music, etc., I think I would rather not have
them, so great is the difference between them and what I am in the
habit of seeing, and so all pleasure in them is gone from
me.[628] Hence it is that I care not for them,
unless it be at the first sight: they never make any further
impression; to me they seem but dirt.

13. If I speak or converse with people in the
worldâ€”for I cannot help itâ€”even about prayer, and if the
conversation be long, though to pass away the time, I am under great
constraint if it be not necessary, for it gives me much pain.

14. Amusements, of which I used to be fond, and
worldly things, are all disagreeable to me now, and I cannot look
at them.

15. The longings, which I said I
have,[629] of loving and serving and seeing God,
are not helped by any reflections, as formerly, when I thought I was
very devout, and shed many tears; but they flow out of a certain fire
and heat so excessive that, I repeat it, if God did not relieve them
by throwing me into a trance, wherein the soul seems to find itself
satisfied, I believe my life would come to an end at once.

16. When I see persons making great progress,
and thus resolved, detached, and courageous, I love them much; and I
should like to have my conversation with such persons, and I think
they help me on. People who are afraid, and seemingly cautious in
those things, the doing of which is perfectly reasonable here, seem to
vex me, and drive me to pray to God and the saints to make them
undertake such things as these which now frighten us. Not that I am
good for anything myself, but because I believe that God helps those
who, for His sake, apply themselves to great things, and that He never
abandons any one who puts his trust in Him only. And I should like to
find any one who would help me to believe so, and to be without
thought about food and raiment, but leave it all in the hands
of God.[630]

17. This leaving in the hands of God the supply
of all I need is not to be understood as excluding all labour on my
part, but merely solicitudeâ€”I mean, the solicitude of care. And
since I have attained to this liberty, it goes well with me, and I
labour to forget myself as much as I can. I do not think it is a year
ago since our Lord gave me this liberty.

18.
Vainglory[631]â€”glory, be to God!â€”so far as I
know, there is no reason why I should have any; for I see plainly that
in these things which God sends me I have no part myself; on the
contrary, God makes me conscious of my own wretchedness; for whatever
reflections I might be able to make, I could never come to the
knowledge of such deep truths as I attain to in a single rapture.

19. When I speak of these things a few days
after, they seem to me as if they had happened to another person.
Previously, I thought it a wrong to me that they should be known to
others; but I see now that

I am not therefore any the better, but rather worse, seeing that I
make so little progress after receiving mercies so great. And
certainly, in every way, it seems to me that there was not in the
world anybody worse than myself; and so the virtues of others seem to
me much more meritorious than mine, and that I do nothing myself but
receive graces, and that God must give to others at once all that He
is now giving unto me; and I pray Him not to reward me in this life;
and so I believe that God has led me along this way because I am weak
and wicked.

20. When I am in prayer, and even almost always
when I am able to reflect at all, I cannot, even if I tried, pray to
God for rest, or desire it; for I see that His life was one of
suffering, and that I ask Him to send me, giving me first the grace to
bear it.

21. Everything of this kind, and of the highest
perfection, seems to make so deep an impression on me in prayer, that
I am amazed at the sight of truths so great and so clear that the
things of the world seem to be folly; and so it is necessary for me to
take pains to reflect on the way I demeaned myself formerly in the
things of the world, for it seems to me folly to feel for deaths and
the troubles of the world,â€”at least, that sorrow for, or love of,
kindred and friends should last long. I say I have to take pains when
I am considering what I was, and what I used to feel.

22. If I see people do anything which clearly
seems to be sin, I cannot make up my mind that they have offended God;
and if I dwell upon this at all,â€”which happens rarely or never,â€”I
never can make up my mind, though I see it plainly enough. It seems
to me that everybody is as anxious to serve God as I am. And herein
God has been very gracious unto me, for I never dwell on an evil deed,
to remember it afterwards and if I do remember it, I see some virtue
or other in that person. In this way these things never weary me,
except generally: but heresies do; they distress

me very often, and almost always when I think of them they seem to
me to be the only trouble which should be felt. And also I feel, when
I see people who used to give themselves to prayer fall away; this
gives me pain, but not much, because I strive not to dwell
upon it.

23. I find, also, that I am improved in the
matter of that excessive neatness which I was wont to
observe,[632] though not wholly delivered from
it. I do not discern that I am always mortified in this; sometimes,
however, I do.

24. All this I have described, together with a
very constant dwelling in thought on God, is the ordinary state of my
soul, so far as I can understand it. And if I must be busy about
something else, without my seeking it, as I said
before,[633] I know not who makes me
awake,â€”and this not always, only when I am busy with things of
importance; and suchâ€”glory be to God!â€”only at intervals demand my
attention, and do not occupy me at all times.

25. For some daysâ€”they are not many,
howeverâ€”for three, or four, or five, all my good and fervent
thoughts, and my visions, seem to be withdrawn, yea, even forgotten,
so that, if I were to seek for it, I know of no good that can ever
have been in me. It seems to have been all a dream, or, at least, I
can call nothing to mind. Bodily pains at the same time distress me.
My understanding is troubled, so that I cannot think at all about God,
neither do I know under what law I live. If I read anything, I do not
understand it; I seem to be full of faults, and without any resolution
whatever to practise virtue; and the great resolution I used to have
is come to this, that I seem to be unable to resist the least
temptation or slander of the world. It suggests itself to me then that
I am good for nothing, if any one would have me undertake more than
the common duties. I give way to sadness, thinking I

have deceived all those who trusted me at all. I should like to
hide myself where nobody could see me; but my desire for solitude
arises from want of courage, not from love of virtue. It seems to me
that I should like to dispute with all who contradict me; I am under
the influence of these impressions, only God has been so gracious unto
me, that I do not offend more frequently than I was wont to do, nor do
I ask Him to deliver me from them, but only, if it be His will I
should always suffer thus, to keep me from offending Him; and I submit
myself to His will with my whole heart, and I see that it is a very
great grace bestowed upon me that He does not keep me constantly in
this state.

26. One thing astonishes me; it is that, while
I am in this state, through a single word of those I am in the habit
of hearing, or a single vision, or a little self-recollection, lasting
but an Ave Maria, or through my drawing near to communicate, I find my
soul and body so calm, so sound, the understanding so clear, and
myself possessing all the strength and all the good desires I usually
have. And this I have had experience of very oftenâ€”at least when I
go to Communion; it is more than six months ago that I felt a clear
improvement in my
bodily health,[634] and that
occasionally brought about through raptures, and I find it last
sometimes more than three hours, at other times I am much stronger for
a whole day; and I do not think it is fancy, for I have considered the
matter, and reflected on it. Accordingly, when I am thus recollected,
I fear no illness. The truth is, that when I pray, as I was
accustomed to do before, I feel no improvement.

27. All these things of which I am speaking
make me believe that it comes from God; for when I see what I once
was, that I was in the way of being lost, and that soon, my soul
certainly is astonished at these things, without knowing whence these
virtues came to me; I did not know myself, and saw that all was a

gift, and not the fruit of my labours. I understand in all
truthfulness and sincerity, and see that I am not deluded, that it has
been not only the means of drawing me to God in His service, but of
saving me also from hell. This my confessors know, who have heard my
general confession.

28. Also, when I see any one who knows anything
about me, I wish to let him know my whole
life,[635] because my honour seems to me to
consist in the honour of our Lord, and I care for nothing else. This
He knows well, or I am very blind; for neither honour, nor life, nor
praise, nor good either of body or of soul, can interest me, nor do I
seek or desire any advantage, only His glory. I cannot believe that
Satan has sought so many means of making my soul advance, in order to
lose it after all. I do not hold him to be so foolish. Nor can I
believe it of God, though I have deserved to fall into delusions
because of my sins, that He has left unheeded so many prayers of so
many good people for two years, and I do nothing else but ask
everybody to pray to our Lord that He would show me if this be for His
glory, or lead me by
another way.[636] I do
not believe that these things would have been permitted by His Majesty
to be always going on if they were not His work. These
considerations, and the reasons of so many saintly men, give me
courage when I am under the pressure of fear that they are not from
God, I being so wicked myself. But when I am in prayer, and during
those days when I am in repose, and my thoughts fixed on God, if all
the learned and holy men in the world came together and put me to, all
conceivable tortures, and I, too, desirous of agreeing with them, they
could not make me believe that this is the work of Satan, for I
cannot. And when they would have had me believe it, I was afraid,
seeing who it was that said so; and I thought that they must be saying
what was true, and that I, being what I was, must have

been deluded. But all they had said to me was destroyed by the
first word, or recollection, or vision that came, and I was able to
resist no longer, and believed it was
from God.[637]

29. However, I can think that Satan now and
then may intermeddle here, and so it is, as I have seen and said; but
he produces different results, nor can he, as it seems to me, deceive
any one possessed of any experience. Nevertheless, I say that, though
I do certainly believe this to be from God, I would never do anything,
for any consideration whatever, that is not judged by him who has the
charge of my soul to be for the better service of our Lord, and I
never had any intention but to obey without concealing anything, for
that is my duty. I am very often rebuked for my faults, and that in
such a way as to pierce me to the very quick; and I am warned when
there is, or when there may be, any danger in what I am doing. These
rebukes and warnings have done me much good, in often reminding me of
my former sins, which make me exceedingly sorry.

30. I have been very long, but this is the
truth,â€”that, when I rise from my prayer, I see that I have received
blessings which seem too briefly described. Afterwards I fall into
many imperfections, and am unprofitable and very wicked. And perhaps
I have no perception of what is good, but am deluded; still, the
difference in my life is notorious, and compels me to think over all I
have saidâ€”I mean, that which I verily believe I have felt. These are
the perfections which I feel our Lord has wrought in me, who am so
wicked and so imperfect. I refer it all to your judgment, my father,
for you know the whole state of my soul.

The Relations or Manifestations

Relation II

To One of Her Confessors, from the House of DoÃ±a Luisa de la
Cerda, in 1562.[638]

Jesus.

I think it is more than a year since this was written; God has all
this time protected me with His hand, so that I have not become worse;
on the contrary, I see a great change for the better in all I have to
say: may He be praised for it all!

1. The visions and revelations have not ceased,
but they are of a much higher kind. Our Lord has taught me a way of
prayer, wherein I find myself far more advanced, more detached from
the things of this life, more courageous, and more
free.[639] I fall into a trance more frequently,
for these ecstasies at times come upon me with great violence, and in
such a way as to be outwardly visible, I having no power to resist
them; and even when I am with othersâ€”for they come in such a way as
admits of no disguising them, unless it be by letting people suppose
that, as I am subject to disease of the heart, they are fainting-fits;
I take great pains, however, to resist them when they are coming
onâ€”sometimes I cannot do it.

2. As to poverty, God seems to have wrought
great things in me; for I would willingly be without even what is
necessary, unless given me as an alms; and therefore my longing is
extreme that I may be in such a state as to depend on alms alone for
my food. It seems to me that to live, when I am certain of food and
raiment without fail, is not so complete an observance of my vow or of
the counsel of Christ as it would be to live where no revenue is
possessed, and I should be in

want at times; and as to the blessings that come with true poverty,
they seem to me to be great, and I would not miss them. Many times do
I find myself with such great faith, that I do not think God will ever
fail those who serve Him, and without any doubt whatever that there
is, or can be, any time in which His words are not fulfilled: I cannot
persuade myself to the contrary, nor can I have any fear; and so, when
they advise me to accept an endowment, I feel it keenly, and betake
myself unto God.

3. I think I am much more compassionate towards
the poor than I used to be, having a great pity for them and a desire
to help them; for if I regarded only my good will, I should give them
even the habit I wear. I am not fastidious with respect to them, even
if I had to do with them or touched them with my hands,â€”and this I
now see is a gift of God; for though I used to give alms for His love,
I had no natural compassion. I am conscious of a distinct
improvement herein.

4. As to the evil speaking directed against
me,â€”which is considerable, and highly injurious to me, and done by
many,â€”I find myself herein also very much the better. I think that
what they say makes scarcely any more impression upon me than it would
upon an idiot. I think at times, and nearly always, that it is just.
I feel it so little that I see nothing in it that I might offer to
God, as I learn by experience that my soul gains greatly thereby; on
the contrary, the evil speaking seems to be a favour. And thus, the
first time I go to prayer, I have no ill-feeling against them; the
first time I hear it, it creates in me a little resistance, but it
neither disturbs nor moves me; on the contrary, when I see others
occasionally disturbed, I am sorry for them. So it is, I put myself
out of the question; for all the wrongs of this life seem to me so
light, that it is not possible to feel them, because I imagine myself
to be dreaming, and see that all this will be nothing when
I awake.

5. God is giving me more earnest desires, a
greater love of solitude, a much greater detachment, as I said, with
the visions; by these He has made me know what all that is, even if I
gave up all the friends I have, both men and women and kindred. This
is the least part of it: my kindred are rather a very great weariness
to me; I leave them in all freedom and joy, provided it be to render
the least service unto God; and thus on every side I find peace.

6. Certain things, about which I have been
warned in prayer, have been perfectly verified. Thus, considering the
graces received from God, I find myself very much better; but,
considering my service to Him in return, I am exceedingly worthless,
for I have received greater consolation than I have given, though
sometimes that gives me grievous pain. My penance is very scanty, the
respect shown me great, much against my own will very
often.[640] However in a word, I see that I live
an easy, not a penitential, life; God help me, as He can!

7. It is now nine months, more or less, since I
wrote this with mine own hand; since then I have not turned my back on
the graces which God has given me; I think I have received, so far as
I can see, a much greater liberty of late. Hitherto I thought I had
need of others, and I had more reliance on worldly helps. Now I
clearly understand that all men are bunches of dried rosemary, and
that there is no safety in leaning on them, for if they are pressed by
contradictions or evil speaking they break down. And so I know by
experience that the only way not to fall is to cling to the cross, and
put our trust in Him who was nailed thereto. I find Him a real
Friend, and with Him I find myself endowed with such might that, God
never failing me, I think I should be able to withstand the whole
world if it were against me.

8. Having a clear knowledge of this truth,
I used

to be very fond of being loved by others; now I do not care for
that, yea, rather, their love seems to weary me in some measure,
excepting theirs who take care of my soul, or theirs to whom I think I
do good. Of the former I wish to be loved, in order that they may
bear with me; and of the latter, that they may be more inclined to
believe me when I tell them that all is vanity.

9. In the very grievous trials, persecutions,
and contradictions of
these months,[641] God gave
me great courage; and the more grievous they were, the greater the
courage, without weariness in suffering. Not only had I no
ill-feeling against those who spoke evil of me, but I had, I believe,
conceived a deeper affection for them. I know not how it was;
certainly it was a gift from the hand of our Lord.

10. When I desire anything, I am accustomed
naturally to desire it with some vehemence; now my desires are so
calm, that I do not even feel that I am pleased when I see them
fulfilled. Sorrow and joy, excepting in that which relates to prayer,
are so moderated, that I seem to be without sense, and in that state I
remain for some days.

11. The vehement longings to do penance which
come, and have come, upon me are great; and if I do any penance, I
feel it to be so slight in comparison with that longing, that I regard
it sometimes, and almost always, as a special consolation; however, I
do but little, because of my great weakness.

12. It is a very great pain to me very often,
and at this moment most grievous, that I must take food, particularly
if I am in prayer. It must be very great, for it makes me weep much,
and speak the language of affliction, almost without being aware of
it, and that is what I am not in the habit of doing, for I do not
remember that I ever did so in the very heaviest trials

of my life: I am not a woman in these things, for I have a
hard heart.

13. I feel in myself a very earnest desire,
more so than usual, that God may find those who will serve Him,
particularly learned men, in all detachment, and who will not cleave
to anything of this world, for I see it is all a mockery; for when I
see the great needs of the Church, I look upon it as a mockery to be
distressed about aught else. I do nothing but pray to God for such
men, because I see that one person, who is wholly perfect in the true
fervour of the love of God, will do more good than many who
are lukewarm.

14. In matters concerning the faith, my courage
seems to me much greater. I think I could go forth alone by myself
against the Lutherans, and convince them of their errors. I feel very
keenly the loss of so many souls. I see many persons making great
progress; I see clearly it was the pleasure of God that such progress
should have been helped by me; and I perceive that my soul, of His
goodness, grows daily more and more in His love.

15. I think I could not be led away by
vainglory, even if I seriously tried, and I do not see how I could
imagine any one of my virtues to be mine, for it is not long since I
was for many years without any at all; and now so far as I am
concerned, I do nothing but receive graces, without rendering any
service in return, being the most worthless creature in the world.
And so it is that I consider at times how all, except myself, make
progress; I am good for nothing in myself. This is not humility only,
but the simple truth; and the knowledge of my being so worthless makes
me sometimes think with fear that I must be under some delusion. Thus
I see clearly that all my gain has come through the revelations and
the raptures, in which I am nothing myself, and do no more to effect
them than the canvas does for the picture painted on it. This makes
me feel secure and be at

rest; and I place myself in the hands of God, and trust my desires;
for I know for certain that my desires are to die for Him, and to lose
all ease, and that whatever may happen.

16. There are days wherein I remember times
without number the words of St. Paul,[642]â€”though
certainly they are not true of me,â€”that I have neither life, nor
speech, nor will of my own, but that there is One in me by whom I am
directed and made strong; and I am, as it were, beside myself, and
thus life is a very grievous burden to me. And the greatest oblation I
make to God, as the highest service on my part, is that I, when I feel
it so painfully to be absent from Him, am willing to live on for the
love of Him. I would have my life also full of great tribulations and
persecutions; now that I am unprofitable, I should like to suffer; and
I would endure all the tribulations in the world to gain ever so
little more meritâ€”I mean, by a more perfect doing of His will.

17. Everything that I have learnt in prayer,
though it may be two years previously, I have seen fulfilled. What I
see and understand of the grandeurs of God, and of the way He has
shown them, is so high, that I scarcely ever begin to think of them
but my understanding fails me,â€”for I am as one that sees things far
higher than I can understand,â€”and I become recollected.

18. God so keeps me from offending Him, that I
am verily amazed at times. I think I discern the great care He takes
of me, without my taking scarcely any care at all, being as I was,
before these things happened to me, a sea of wickedness and sins, and
without a thought that I was mistress enough of myself to leave them
undone. And the reason why I would have this known is that the great
power of God might be made manifest. Unto Him be praise for ever and
ever! Amen.

Jesus.

This Relation here set forth, not in my handwriting, is one that I
gave to my confessor, and which he with his own hand copied, without
adding or diminishing a word. He was a most spiritual man and a
theologian: I discussed the state of my soul with him, and he with
other learned men, among whom was Father
Mancio.[643] They found nothing in it that is
not in perfect agreement with the holy writings. This makes me calm
now, though, while God is leading me by this way, I feel that it is
necessary for me to put no trust whatever in myself. And so I have
always done, though it is painful enough. You, my father, will be
careful that all this goes under the seal of confession, according to
my request.

The Relations or Manifestations

Relation III

Of Various Graces Granted to the Saint from the Year 1568 to
1571 Inclusive.

When I was in the monastery of Toledo, and
some people were advising me not to allow any but noble persons to be
buried there,[644] our Lord said to me: "Thou
wilt be very inconsistent, My daughter, if thou regardest the laws of
the world. Look at Me, poor and despised of men: are the great people
of the world likely to be great in My eyes? or is it descent or virtue
that is to make you esteemed?"

2. After Communion, the second day of Lent, in
St. Joseph of Malagon, our Lord Jesus
Christ appeared to me in an imaginary vision, as He is I wont to do;
and when I was looking upon Him I saw that He had

on His head, instead of the crown of thorns, a crown of great
splendour, over the part where the wounds of that crown must have
been. And as I have a great devotion to the crowning with thorns, I
was exceedingly consoled, and began to think how great the pain must
have been because of the many wounds, and to be sorrowful. Our Lord
told me not to be sad because of those wounds, but for the many wounds
which men inflict upon Him now. I asked Him what I could do by way of
reparation; for I was resolved to do anything. He replied: "This
is not the time for rest;" that I must hasten on the foundations,
for He would take His rest with the souls which entered the
monasteries; that I must admit all who offered themselves, because
there were many souls that did not serve Him because they had no place
wherein to do it; that those monasteries which were to be founded in
small towns should be like this; that the merit of those in them would
be as great, if they only desired to do that which was done in the
other houses; that I must contrive to put them all under the
jurisdiction of
one superior,[645] and take care
that anxieties about means of bodily maintenance did not destroy
interior peace, for He would help us, so that we should never be in
want of food. Especial care was to be had of the sick sisters; the
prioress who did not provide for and comfort the sick was like the
friends of Job: He sent them sickness for the good of their souls, and
careless superiors risked the patience of their nuns. I was to write
the history of the foundation of the monasteries. I was thinking how
there was nothing to write about in reference to the foundation of
Medina, when He asked me, what more did I want to see than that the
foundation there was miraculous? By this He meant to say that He
alone had done it, when it seemed
impossible.[646] I resolved to execute
His commands.

3. Our Lord told me something I was to tell
another, and as I was considering how I did not understand it at
all,â€”though I prayed to Him, and was thinking it might be from
Satan,â€”He said to me that it was not, and that He Himself would warn
me when the time came.

4. Once, when I was thinking how much more
purely they live who withdraw themselves from all business, and how
ill it goes with me, and how many faults I must be guilty of, when I
have business to transact, I heard this: "It cannot be otherwise,
My daughter; but strive thou always after a good intention in all
things, and detachment; lift up thine eyes to Me, and see that all
thine actions may resemble Mine."

5. Thinking how it was that I scarcely ever fell
into a trance of late in public, I heard this: "It is not
necessary now; thou art sufficiently esteemed for My purpose; we are
considering the weakness of the wicked."

6. One Tuesday after the
Ascension,[647] having prayed for awhile after
Communion in great distress, because I was so distracted that I could
fix my mind on nothing, I complained of our poor nature to our Lord.
The fire began to kindle in my soul, and I saw, as it seemed to me,
the most Holy Trinity[648] distinctly present in
an intellectual vision, whereby my soul understood through a certain
representation, as a figure of the truth, so far as my dulness could
understand, how God is Three and One; and thus it seemed to me that
all the Three Persons spoke to me, that They were distinctly present
in my soul, saying unto me "that from that day forth I should see
that my soul had grown better in three ways, and that each one of the
Three Persons had bestowed on me a distinct grace,â€”in

charity, in suffering joyfully, in a sense of that charity in my
soul, accompanied with fervour." I learnt the meaning of those
words of our Lord, that the Three Divine Persons will dwell in the
soul that is in a state
of grace.[649]
Afterwards giving thanks to our Lord for so great a mercy, and finding
myself utterly unworthy of it, I asked His Majesty with great
earnestness how it was that He, after showing such mercies to me, let
me go out of His hand, and allowed me to become so wicked; for on the
previous day I had been in great distress on account of my sins, which
I had set before me. I saw clearly then how much our Lord on His part
had done, ever since my infancy, to draw me to Himself by means most
effectual, and yet, that all had failed. Then I had a clear
perception of the surpassing love of God for us, in that He forgives
us all this when we turn to Him, and for me more than for any other,
for many reasons. The vision of the Three Divine Personsâ€”one
Godâ€”made so profound an impression on my soul, that if it had
continued it would have been impossible for me not to be recollected
in so divine a company. What I saw and heard besides is beyond my
power to describe.

7. Once, when I was about to communicate,â€”it
was shortly before I had this vision,â€”the Host being still in the
ciborium, for It had not yet been given me, I saw something like a
dove, which moved its wings with a sound. It disturbed me so much,
and so carried me away out of myself, that it was with the utmost
difficulty I received the Host. All this took place in St. Joseph of Avila. It was Father Francis
Salcedo who was giving me the most Holy Sacrament. Hearing Mass
another day, I saw our Lord glorious in the Host; He said to me that
his sacrifice was acceptable unto Him.

8. I heard this once: "The time will
come when

many miracles will be wrought in this church; it will be called the
holy church." It was in St. Joseph of
Avila, in the year 1571.

9. I retain to this day, which is the
Commemoration of St. Paul, the presence of
the Three Persons of which I spoke in the
beginning;[650] they are present almost
continually in my soul. I, being accustomed to the presence of Jesus
Christ only, always thought that the vision of the Three Persons was
in some degree a hindrance, though I know the Three Persons are but
One God. To-day, while thinking of this, our Lord said to me
"that I was wrong in imagining that those things which are
peculiar to the soul can be represented by those of the body; I was to
understand that they were very different, and that the soul had a
capacity for great fruition." It seemed to me as if this were
shown to me thus: as water penetrates and is drunk in by the sponge,
so, it seemed to me, did the Divinity fill my soul, which in a certain
sense had the fruition and possession of the Three Persons. And I
heard Him say also: "Labour thou not to hold Me within thyself
enclosed, but enclose thou thyself within Me." It seemed to me
that I saw the Three Persons within my soul, and communicating
Themselves to all creatures abundantly without ceasing to be
with me.

10. A few days after this, thinking whether
they were right who disapproved of my going out to make new
foundations, and whether it would not be better for me if I occupied
myself always with prayer, I heard this: "During this life, the
true gain consists not in striving after greater joy in Me, but in
doing My will." It seemed to me, considering what St. Paul says about women, how they should stay
at home,[651]â€”people reminded me lately of this,
and, indeed, I had heard it before,â€”it might be the will of God
I should

do so too. He said to me: "Tell them they are not to follow
one part of the Scripture by itself, without looking to the other
parts also; perhaps, if they could, they would like to tie
My hands."

11. One day after the octave of the Visitation,
in one of the hermitages of Mount Carmel, praying to God for one of my
brothers, I said to our Lord,â€”I do not know whether it was only in
thought or not, for my brother was in a place where his salvation was
in peril,â€”"If I saw one of Thy brethren, O Lord, in this danger,
what would I not do to help him!" It seemed to me there was
nothing that I could do which I would not have done. Our Lord said to
me: "O daughter, daughter! the nuns of the Incarnation are thy
sisters, and thou holdest back. Take courage, then. Behold, this is
what I would have thee do: it is not so difficult as it seems; and
though it seems to thee that by going thither thy foundations will be
ruined, yet it is by thy going that both these and the monastery of
the Incarnation will gain; resist not, for My power
is great."[652]

12. Once, when thinking of the great penance
practised by DoÃ±a Catalina
de Cardona,[653] and
how I might have done more, considering the desires which our Lord had
given me at times, if it had not been for my obedience to my
confessors, I asked myself whether it would not be as well if I
disobeyed them for the future in this matter. Our Lord said to me:
"No, My daughter; thou art on the sound and safe road. Seest thou
all her penance? I think more of thy obedience."

13. Once, when I was in prayer, He showed me by
a certain kind of intellectual vision the condition of a soul in a
state of grace: in its company I saw by intellectual vision the most
Holy Trinity, from whose

companionship the soul derived a power which was a dominion over
the whole earth. I understood the meaning of those words in the
Canticle: "Let my Beloved come into His garden and
eat."[654] He showed me also the condition
of a soul in sin, utterly powerless, like a person tied and bound and
blindfold, who, though anxious to see, yet cannot, being unable to
walk or to hear, and in grievous obscurity. I was so exceedingly
sorry for such souls, that, to deliver only one, any trouble seemed to
me light. I thought it impossible for any one who saw this as I saw
it,â€”and I can hardly explain it,â€”willingly to forfeit so great a
good or continue in so evil a state.

14. One day, in very great distress about the
state of the Order, and casting about for means to succour it, our
Lord said to me: "Do thou what is in thy power, and leave Me to
Myself, and be not disquieted by anything; rejoice in the blessing
thou hast received, for it is a very great one. My Father is pleased
with thee, and the Holy Ghost loves thee."

15. "Thou art ever desiring trials, and, on
the other hand, declining them. I order things according to what I
know thy will is, and not according to thy sensuality and weakness.
Be strong, for thou seest how I help thee; I have wished thee to gain
this crown. Thou shalt see the Order of the Virgin greatly advanced in
thy days." I heard this from our Lord about the middle of
February, 1571.

16. On the eve of St. Sebastian, the first year of my being in the
monastery of
the Incarnation[655] as prioress
there, at the beginning of the Salve, I saw the
Mother of God descend with a multitude of angels to the stall of the
prioress, where the image of our Lady is, and sit there herself. I
think I did not see the image then, but only our Lady. She seemed to
be like that picture

of her which
the Countess[656] gave me; but
I had no time to ascertain this, because I fell at once into a trance.
Multitudes of angels seemed to me to be above the canopies of the
stalls, and on the desks in front of them; but I saw no bodily forms,
for the vision was intellectual. She remained there during the Salve, and said to me: "Thou hast done well to place
me here; I will be present when the sisters sing the praises of my
Son, and will offer them to Him." After this I remained in that
prayer which I still practise, and which is that of keeping my soul in
the company of the most Holy Trinity; and it seemed to me that the
Person of the Father drew me to Himself, and spoke to me most
comfortable words. Among them were these, while showing how He loved
me: "I give thee My Son, and the Holy Ghost, and the Virgin: what
canst thou
give Me?"[657]

17. On the octave of the Holy Ghost, our Lord
was gracious unto me, and gave me hopes of this
house,[658] that it would go on
improvingâ€”I mean the souls that are in it.

18. On the feast of the Magdalene, our Lord
again confirmed a grace I had received in Toledo, electing me, in the
absence of a certain person, in her place.

19. In the monastery of the Incarnation, and in
the second year of my being prioress there, on the octave of St. Martin, when I was going to Communion, the
Father, Fr. John of
the Cross,[659]â€”divided
the Host between me and another sister. I thought it was done, not
because there was any want of Hosts, but that he wished to mortify me
because I had told him how much I delighted in Hosts of a large size.
Yet I was not ignorant that the size of the Host is of no

moment; for I knew that our Lord is whole and entire in the
smallest particle. His Majesty said to me: "Have no fear, My
daughter; for no one will be able to separate thee from
Me,"â€”giving me to understand that the size of the Host
mattered not.

20. Then appearing to me, as on other
occasions, in an imaginary vision, most interiorly, He held out His
right hand and said: "Behold this nail! it is the pledge of thy
being My bride from this day forth. Until now thou hadst not merited
it; from henceforth thou shalt regard My honour, not only as of one
who is Thy Creator, King, and God, but as thine, My veritable bride;
My honour is thine, and thine is Mine." This grace had such an
effect on me, that I could not contain myself: I became as one that is
foolish, and said to our Lord: "Either ennoble my vileness or
cease to bestow such mercies on me, for certainly I do not think that
nature can bear them." I remained thus the whole day, as one
utterly beside herself. Afterwards I became conscious of great
progress, and greater shame and distress to see that I did nothing in
return for graces so great.

21. Our Lord said this to me one day:
"Thinkest thou, My daughter, that meriting lies in fruition? No;
merit lies only in doing, in suffering, and in loving. You never
heard that St. Paul had the fruition of
heavenly joys more than once; while he was often in
sufferings.[660] Thou seest how My whole life
was full of dolors, and only on Mount Tabor hast thou heard of Me in
glory.[661] Do not suppose, when thou seest My
Mother hold Me in her arms, that she had that joy unmixed with heavy
sorrows. From the time that Simeon spoke to her, My Father made her
see in clear light all I had to suffer. The grand Saints of the
desert, as they were led by God, so also did they undergo heavy
penances; besides, they waged serious war

with the devil and with themselves, and much of their time passed
away without any spiritual consolation whatever. Believe Me, My
daughter, his trials are the heaviest whom My Father loves most;
trials are the measure of His love. How can I show My love for thee
better than by desiring for thee what I desired for Myself? Consider
My wounds; thy pains will never reach to them. This is the way of
truth; thus shalt thou help Me to weep over the ruin of those who are
in the world, for thou knowest how all their desires, anxieties, and
thoughts tend the other way." When I began my prayer that day, my
headache was so violent that I thought I could not possibly go on.
Our Lord said to me: "Behold now, the reward of suffering. As
thou, on account of thy health, wert unable to speak to Me, I spoke to
thee and comforted thee." Certainly, so it was; for the time of
my recollection lasted about an hour and a half, more or less. It was
then that He spoke to me the words I have just related, together with
all the others. I was not able to distract myself, neither knew I
where I was; my joy was so great as to be indescribable; my headache
was gone, and I was amazed, and I had a longing for suffering. He
also told me to keep in mind the words He said to His Apostles:
"The servant is not greater than
his Lord."[662]

The Relations or Manifestations

Relation IV

Of the Graces the Saint Received in Salamanca at the End of
Lent, 1571.

I found myself the whole of yesterday in
great desolation, and, except at Communion, did not feel that it was
the day of the Resurrection. Last night,

being with the community, I
heard one[663] of
them singing how hard it is to be living away from God. As I was then
suffering, the effect of that singing on me was such that a numbness
began in my hands, and no efforts of mine could hinder it; but as I go
out of myself in raptures of joy, so then my soul was thrown into a
trance through the excessive pain, and remained entranced; and until
this day I had not felt this. A few days previously I thought that
the vehement impulses were not so great as they used to be, and now it
seems to be that the reason is what I have described; I know not if it
is so. Hitherto the pain had not gone so far as to make me beside
myself; and as it is so unendurable, and as I retained the control of
my senses, it made me utter loud cries beyond my power to restrain.
Now that it has grown, it has reached this point of piercing me; and I
understand more of that piercing which our Lady suffered; for until
to-day, as I have just said, I never knew what that piercing was. My
body was so bruised, that I suffer even now when I am writing this;
for my hands are as if the joints were loosed, and in
pain.[664] You, my father, will tell me when you
see me whether this trance be the effect of suffering, or whether I
felt it, or whether I am deceived.

2. I was in this great pain till this morning;
and, being in prayer, I fell into a profound trance; and it seemed to
me that our Lord had taken me up in spirit to His Father, and said to
Him: "Whom Thou hast given to Me, I give to
Thee;"[665] and He seemed to draw me near to
Himself. This is not an imaginary vision, but one most certain, and
so spiritually subtile that it cannot be explained. He spoke certain
words to me which I do not remember. Some of them referred

to His grace, which He bestows on me. He kept me by Him for
some time.

3. As you, my father, went away yesterday so
soon, and I consider the many affairs which detain you, so that it is
impossible for me to have recourse to you for comfort even when
necessary,â€”for I see that your occupations are most urgent,â€”I was
for some time in pain and sadness. As I was then in desolation,â€”as I
said before,â€”that helped me; and as nothing on earth, I thought, had
any attractions for me, I had a scruple, and feared I was beginning to
lose that liberty. This took place last night; and to-day our Lord
answered my doubt, and said to me "that I was not to be surprised;
for as men seek for companions with whom they may speak of their
sensual satisfactions, so the soulâ€”when there is any one who
understands itâ€”seeks those to whom it may communicate its pleasures
and its pains, and is sad and mourns when it can find none." He
said to me: "Thou art prosperous now, and thy works please
Me." As He remained with me for some time, I remembered that I
had told you, my father, that these visions pass quickly away; He said
to me "that there was a difference between these and the imaginary
visions, and that there could not be an invariable law concerning the
graces He bestowed on us; for it was expedient to give them now in one
way, now in another."

4. After Communion, I saw our Lord most
distinctly close beside me; and He began to comfort me with great
sweetness, and said to me, among other things: "Thou beholdest Me
present, My daughter,â€”it is I. Show me thy hands." And to me He
seemed to take them and to put them to His side, and said: "Behold
My wounds; thou art not without Me. Finish the short course of thy
life." By some things He said to me, I understood that, after His
Ascension, He never came down to the earth except in the most

Holy Sacrament to communicate Himself to any one. He said to me,
that when He rose again He showed Himself to our Lady, because she was
in great trouble; for sorrow had so pierced her soul that she did not
even recover herself at once in order to have the fruition of that
joy. By this I saw how different was my
piercing.[666] But what must that of the Virgin
have been? He remained long with her then because it was necessary to
console her.

5. On Palm Sunday, at Communion, I was in a deep
trance,â€”so much so, that I was not able even to swallow the Host;
and, still having It in my mouth, when I had come a little to myself,
I verily believed that my mouth was all filled with Blood; and my face
and my whole body seemed to be covered with It, as if our Lord had
been shedding It at that moment. I thought It was warm, and the
sweetness I then felt was exceedingly great; and our Lord said to me:
"Daughter, My will is that My Blood should profit thee; and be not
thou afraid that My compassion will fail thee. I shed It in much
suffering, and, as thou seest, thou hast the fruition of It in great
joy. I reward thee well for the pleasure thou gavest me to-day."
He said this because I have been in the habit of going to Communion,
if possible, on this day for more than thirty years, and of labouring
to prepare my soul to be the host of our Lord; for I considered the
cruelty of the Jews to be very great, after giving Him so grand a
reception, in letting Him go so far for supper; and I used to picture
Him as remaining with me, and truly in a poor lodging, as I see now.
And thus I used to have such foolish thoughtsâ€”they must have been
acceptable to our Lord, for this was one of the visions which I regard
as most certain; and, accordingly it has been a great blessing to me
in the matter of Communion.

6. Previous to this, I had been, I believe,
for three

days in that great pain, which I feel sometimes more than at
others, because I am away from God; and during those days it had been
very great, and seemingly more than I could bear. Being thus
exceedingly wearied by it, I saw it was late to take my collation, nor
could I do so,â€”for if I do not take it a little earlier, it occasions
great weakness because of my sickness; and then, doing violence to
myself, I took up some bread to prepare for collation, and on the
instant Christ appeared, and seemed to be breaking the bread and
putting it into my mouth. He said to me: "Eat, My daughter, and
bear it as well as thou canst. I condole with thee in thy suffering;
but it is good for thee now." My pain was gone, and I was
comforted; for He seemed to be really with me then, and the whole of
the next day; and with this my desires were then satisfied. The word
"condole" made me strong; for now I do not think I am
suffering at all.

The Relations or Manifestations

Relation V

Observations on Certain Points of Spirituality.

"What is it that distresses thee, little
sinner? Am I not thy God? Dost thou not see how ill I am treated
here? If thou lovest Me, why art thou not sorry for Me? Daughter,
light is very different from darkness. I am faithful; no one will be
lost without knowing it. He must be deceiving himself who relies on
spiritual sweetnesses; the true safety lies in the witness of a good
conscience.[667] But let no one think that of
himself he can abide in the light, any more than he can hinder the
natural night from coming on; for that depends on My grace. The best
means he can have for retaining the light is the conviction in his
soul that he can

do nothing of himself, and that it comes from Me; for, even if he
were in the light, the instant I withdraw, night will come. True
humility is this: the soul's knowing what itself can do, and what I
can do. Do not neglect to write down the counsels I give thee, that
thou mayest not forget them. Thou seekest to have the counsels of men
in writing; why, then, thinkest thou that thou art wasting time in
writing down those I give thee? The time will come when thou shalt
require them all."

On Union.

2. "Do not suppose, My daughter, that to be
near to Me is union; for they who sin against Me are near Me, though
they do not wish it. Nor is union the joys and comforts of
union,[668] though they be of the very highest
kind, and though they come from Me. These very often are means of
winning souls, even if they are not in a state of grace." When I
heard this, I was in a high degree lifted up in spirit. Our Lord
showed me what the spirit was, and what the state of the soul was
then, and the meaning of those words of the Magnificat, "Exultavit
spiritus meus." He showed me that the spirit was the higher part
of the will.

3. To return to union; I understood it to be a
spirit, pure and raised up above all the things of earth, with nothing
remaining in it that would swerve from the will of God, being a spirit
and a will resigned to His will, and in detachment from all things,
occupied in God in such a way as to leave no trace of any love of
self, or of any created
thing whatever.[669]
Thereupon, I considered that, if this be union, it comes to this,
that, as my soul is always abiding in this resolution, we can say of
it that it is always in this prayer of union: and yet it is true that
the union lasts but a very short time. It was suggested to me that,
as to living in justice,

meriting and making progress, it will be so; but it cannot be said
that the soul is in union as it is when in contemplation; and I
thought I understood, yet not by words heard, that the dust of our
wretchedness, faults, and imperfections, wherein we bury ourselves, is
so great, that it is not possible to live in such pureness as the
spirit is in when in union with God, raised up and out of our wretched
misery. And I think, if it be union to have our will and spirit in
union with the will and Spirit of God, that it is not possible for any
one not in a state of grace to attain thereto; and I have been told
so. Accordingly, I believe it is very difficult to know when the soul
is in union; to have that knowledge is a special grace of God, because
nobody can tell whether he is in a state of grace
or not.[670]

4. You will show me in writing, my father, what
you think of this, and how I am in the wrong, and send me this
paper back.

5. I had read in a book that it was an
imperfection to possess pictures well painted,â€”and I would not,
therefore, retain in my cell one that I had; and also, before I had
read this, I thought that it was poverty to possess none, except those
made of paper,â€”and, as I read this afterwards, I would not have any
of any other material. I learnt from our Lord, when I was not
thinking at all about this, what I am going to say: "that this
mortification was not right. Which is better, poverty or charity?
But as love was the better, whatever kindled love in me, that I must
not give up, nor take away from my nuns; for the book spoke of much
adorning and curious devicesâ€”not of
pictures.[671] What Satan was doing among the
Lutherans was the taking away from them all those means by which their
love might be the more quickened; and thus they were going to
perdition. Those who are loyal to Me, My daughter, must now, more than
ever, do the very reverse

of what they do." I understood that I was under great
obligations to serve our Lady and St. Joseph, because, when I was utterly lost,
God, through their prayers, came and saved me.

6. One day, after the feast of St. Matthew,[672] I was as
is usual with me, after seeing in a vision the most Holy Trinity, and
how It is present in a soul in a state of
grace.[673] I understood the mystery most
clearly, in such a way that, after a certain fashion and comparisons,
I saw It in an imaginary vision. And though at other times I have
seen the most Holy Trinity in an intellectual vision, for some days
after the truth of it did not rest with me,â€”as it does now,â€”I mean,
so that I could dwell upon it. I see now that it is just as learned
men told me; and I did not understand it as I do now, though I
believed them without the least hesitation; for I never had any
temptations against the faith.

7. It seems to us ignorant women that the
Persons of the most Holy Trinity are all Three, as we see Them
painted, in one Person, after the manner of those pictures, which
represent a body with three faces; and thus it causes such
astonishment in us that we look on it as impossible, and so there is
nobody who dares to think of it; for the understanding is perplexed,
is afraid it may come to doubt the truth, and that robs us of a
great blessing.

8. What I have seen is this: Three distinct
Persons each one by Himself visible, and by Himself
speaking.[674] And afterwards I have been
thinking that the Son alone took human flesh, whereby this truth is
known. The Persons love, communicate, and know Themselves. Then, if
each one is by Himself, how can we say that the Three are one Essence,
and so believe? That is a

most deep truth, and I would die for it a thousand times. In the
Three Persons there is but one will and one power and one might;
neither can One be without Another: so that of all created things
there is but one sole Creator. Could the Son create an ant without
the Father? No; because the power is all one. The same is to be said
of the Holy Ghost. Thus, there is one God Almighty, and the Three
Persons are one Majesty. Is it possible to love the Father without
loving the Son and the Holy Ghost? No; for he who shall please One of
the Three pleases the Three Persons; and he who shall offend One
offends All. Can the Father be without the Son and without the Holy
Ghost? No; for They are one substance, and where One is there are the
Three; for they cannot be divided. How, then, is it that we see the
Three Persons distinct? and how is it that the Son, not the Father,
nor the Holy Ghost, took human flesh? This is what I have never
understood; theologians know it. I know well that the Three were
there when that marvellous work was done, and I do not busy myself
with much thinking thereon. All my thinking thereon comes at once to
this: that I see God is almighty, that He has done what He would, and
so can do what He will. The less I understand it, the more I believe
it, and the greater the devotion it excites in me. May He be blessed
for ever! Amen.

9. If our Lord had not been so gracious with me
as He has been, I do not think I should have had the courage to do
what has been done, nor strength to undergo the labours endured, with
the contradictions and the opinions of men. And accordingly, since
the beginning of the foundations, I have lost the fears I formerly
had, thinking that I was under delusions,â€”and I had a conviction that
it was the work of God: having this, I ventured upon difficult things,
though always with advice and under obedience. I see in this that
when our Lord willed to make a beginning of the Order,

and of His mercy made use of me, His Majesty had to supply all that
I was deficient in, which was everything, in order that the work might
be effected, and that His greatness might be the more clearly revealed
in one so wicked.

10. Antiochus was unendurable to himself, and
to those who were about him, because of the stench of his
many sins.[675]

11. Confession is for faults and sins, and not
for virtues, nor for anything of the kind relating to prayer. These
things are to be treated of out of confession with one who understands
the matter,â€”and let the prioress see to this; and the nun must
explain the straits she is in, in order that the proper helps may be
found for her; for Cassian says that he who does not know the fact, as
well as he who has never seen or learnt, that men can swim, will
think, when he sees people throw themselves into the river, that they
will all be drowned.[676]

12. Our Lord would have Joseph tell the vision
to his brethren, and have it known, though it was to cost Joseph
so much.

13. How the soul has a sense of fear when God
is about to bestow any great grace upon it; that sense is the worship
of the spirit, as that of
the four[677] elders
spoken of in Scripture.

14. How, when the faculties are suspended, it
is to be understood that certain matters are suggested to the soul, to
be by it recommended to God; that an angel suggests them, of whom it
is said in the Scriptures that he was burning incense and offering up
the prayers of
the saints.[678]

15. How there are no sins where there is no
knowledge; and thus our Lord did not permit the king to sin with the
wife of Abraham, for he thought that she was his sister, not
his wife.

The Relations or Manifestations

Relation VI

The Vow of Obedience to Father Gratian Which the Saint Made
in 1575.

In the year 1575, in the month of April, when
I was founding the monastery of Veas, Fra Jerome of the Mother of God
Gratian happened to
come thither.[679] I began
to go to confession to him from time to time, though not looking upon
him as filling the place of the other confessors I had, so as to be
wholly directed by him. One day, when I was taking food, but without
any interior recollection whatever, my soul began to be recollected in
such a way that I thought I must fall into a trance; and I had a
vision, that passed away with the usual swiftness, like a meteor. I
seemed to see close beside me Jesus Christ our Lord, in the form
wherein His Majesty is wont to reveal Himself, with F. Gratian on His
right. Our Lord took his right hand and mine, and, joining them
together, said to me that He would have me accept him in His place for
my whole life, and that we were both to have one mind in all things,
for so it was fitting. I was profoundly convinced that this was the
work of God, though I remembered with regret two of my confessors whom
I frequented in turn for a long time, and to whom I owed much; that
one for whom I have a great affection especially caused a terrible
resistance. Nevertheless, not being able to persuade myself that the
vision was a delusion, because it had a great power

and influence over me, and also because it was said to me on two
other occasions that I was not to be afraid, that He wished this,â€”the
words were different,â€”I made up my mind at last to act upon them,
understanding it to be our Lord's will, and to follow that counsel so
long as I should live. I had never before so acted with any one,
though I had consulted many persons of great learning and holiness,
and who watched over my soul with great care,â€”but neither had I
received any such direction as that I should make no change; for as to
my confessors, of some I understood that they would be profitable to
me, and so also of these.

2. When I had resolved on this, I found myself
in peace and comfort so great that I was amazed, and assured of our
Lord's will; for I do not think that Satan could fill the soul with
peace and comfort such as this: and so, whenever I think of it, I
praise our Lord, and remember the words, "posuit
fines
tuos pacem,"[680] and I wish I
could wear myself out in the praises of God.

3. It must have been about a month after this my
resolve was made, on the second day after Pentecost, when I was going
to found the monastery in Seville, that we heard Mass in a hermitage
in Ecija, and rested there during the hottest part of the day. Those
who were with me remained in the hermitage while I was by myself in
the sacristy belonging to it. I began to think of one great grace
which I received of the Holy Ghost, on one of the vigils of His
feast,[681] and a great desire arose within me of
doing Him some most special service, and I found nothing that was not
already done,â€”at least, resolved upon,â€”for all I do must be faulty;
and I remembered that, though I had already made a vow of obedience,
it might be made in greater

perfection, and I had an impression it would be pleasing unto Him
if I promised that which I was already resolved upon, to live under
obedience to the Father-Master, Fr. Jerome. On the other hand, I
seemed to be doing nothing, because I was already bent on doing it; on
the other hand, it would be a very serious thing, considering that our
interior state is not made known to the superiors who receive our
vows, and that they change, and that, if one is not doing his work
well, another comes in his place; and I believed I should have none of
my liberty all my life long, either outwardly or inwardly, and this
constrained me greatly to abstain from making the vow. This
repugnance of the will made me ashamed, and I saw that, now I had
something I could do for God, I was not doing it; it was a sad thing
for my resolution to serve Him. The fact is, that the objection so
pressed me, that I do not think I ever did anything in my life that
was so hardâ€”not even my professionâ€”unless it be that of my leaving
my father's house to become
a nun.[682] The
reason of this was that I had forgotten my affection for him, and his
gifts for directing me; yea, rather, I was looking on it then as a
strange thing, which has surprised me; feeling nothing but a great
fear whether the vow would be for the service of God or not: and my
natural selfâ€”which is fond of libertyâ€”must have been doing its work,
though for years now I have no pleasure in it. But it seemed to me a
far other matter to give up that liberty by a vow, as in truth it is.
After a protracted struggle, our Lord gave me great confidence; and I
saw it was the better course, the more I felt about it: if I made this
promise in honour of the Holy Ghost, He would be bound to give him
light for the direction of my soul; and I remembered at the same time
that our Lord had given him to me as my guide. Thereupon I fell upon
my knees, and, to render this tribute

of service to the Holy Ghost, made a promise to do whatever he
should bid me do while I lived, provided nothing were required of me
contrary to the law of God and the commands of superiors whom I am
more bound to obey. I adverted to this, that the obligation did not
extend to things of little importance,â€”as if I were to be importunate
with him about anything, and he bade me cease, and I neglected his
advice and repeated my request,â€”nor to things relating to my
convenience. In a word, his commands were not to be about trifles,
done without reflection; and I was not knowingly to conceal from him
my faults and sins, or my interior state; and this, too, is more than
we allow to superiors. In a word, I promised to regard him as in the
place of God, outwardly and inwardly. I know not if it be so, but I
seemed to have done a great thing in honour of the Holy Ghostâ€”at
least, it was all I could do, and very little it was in comparison
with what I owe Him.

4. I give God thanks, who has created one
capable of this work: I have the greatest confidence that His Majesty
will bestow on him great graces; and I myself am so happy and joyous,
that I seem to be in every way free from myself; and though I thought
that my obedience would be a burden, I have attained to the greatest
freedom. May our Lord be praised for ever!

The Relations or Manifestations

Relation VII

Made for Rodrigo Alvarez, S.J., in the Year 1575, According to
Don Vicente de la Fuente; but in 1576, According to the Bollandists
and F. Bouix.

This nun took the habit forty years ago, and
from the first began to reflect on the mysteries of the Passion

of Christ our Lord, and on her own sins, for some time every day,
without thinking at all of anything supernatural, but only of created
things, or of such subjects as suggested to her how soon the end of
all things must come, discerning in creatures the greatness of God and
His love for us.

2. This made her much more willing to serve Him: she was
never under the influence of fear, and made no account of it, but
had always a great desire to see God honoured, and His glory
increased. To that end were all her prayers directed, without
making any for herself; for she thought that it mattered little
if she had to suffer in purgatory in exchange for the increase of
His glory even in the slightest degree.

3. In this she spent about two-and-twenty years
in great aridities, and never did it enter into her thoughts to desire
anything else; for she regarded herself as one who, she thought, did
not deserve even to think about God, except that His Majesty was very
merciful to her in allowing her to remain in His presence, saying her
prayers, reading also in good books.

4. It must be about eighteen years since she
began to arrange about the first monastery of Barefooted Carmelites
which she founded. It was in Avila, three or two years before,â€”I
believe it is three,â€”she began to think that she occasionally heard
interior locutions, and had visions and revelations interiorly. She
saw with the eyes of the soul, for she never saw anything with her
bodily eyes, nor heard anything with her bodily ears; twice, she
thinks, she heard a voice, but she understood not what was said. It
was a sort of making things present when she saw these things
interiorly; they passed away like a meteor most frequently. The
vision, however, remained so impressed on her mind, and produced such
effects, that it was as if she saw those things with her bodily eyes,
and more.

5. She was then by nature so very timid, that
she would not dare to be alone even by day, at times. And

as she could not escape from these visitations, though she tried
with all her might, she went about in very great distress, afraid that
it was a delusion of Satan, and began to consult spiritual men of the
Society of Jesus about it, among whom were Father Araoz, who was
Commissary of the Society, and who happened to go to that place, and
Father Francis, who was Duke of Gandia,â€”him she consulted
twice;[683] also a Provincial, now in Rome,
called Gil Gonzalez, and him also who is now Provincial of
Castille,â€”this latter, however, not so often,â€”Father Baltasar
Alvarez who is now Rector in Salamanca; and he heard her confession
for six years at this time; also the present Rector of Cuenca, Salazar
by name; the Rector of Segovia, called Santander; the Rector of
Burgos, whose name is Ripalda,â€”and he thought very ill of her when he
heard of these things, till after he had conversed with her; the
Doctor Paul Hernandez in Toledo, who was a Consultor of the
Inquisition, him who was Rector in Salamanca when she talked to him;
the Doctor Gutierrez, and other fathers, some of the Society, whom she
knew to be spiritual men, these she sought out, if any were in those
places where she went to found monasteries.

6. With the Father Fra Peter of Alcantara, who
was a holy man of the Barefooted Friars of St. Francis, she had many communications, and he
it was who insisted so much upon it that her spirit should be regarded
as good. They were more than six years trying her spirit minutely, as
it is already described at very great
length,[684] as will be shown hereafter: and she
herself in tears and deep affliction; for the more they tried her, the
more she fell into raptures, and into trances very often,â€”not,
however, deprived of her senses.

7. Many prayers were made, and many Masses were
said, that our Lord would lead her by
another way,[685]

for her fear was very great when she was not in prayer; though in
everything relating to the state of her soul she was very much better,
and a great difference was visible, there was no vainglory, nor had
she any temptation thereto, nor to pride; on the contrary, she was
very much ashamed and confounded when she saw that people knew of her
state, and except with her confessors or any one who would give her
light, she never spoke of these things, and it was more painful to
speak of them than if they had been grave sins; for it seemed to her
that people must laugh
at her,[686] and that
these things were womanish imaginations, which she had always heard of
with disgust.

8. About thirteen years ago, more or less, after
the house of St. Joseph was founded, into
which she had gone from the other monastery, came the present Bishop
of Salamanca, Inquisitor, I think, of Toledo, previously of Seville,
Soto by name.[687] She contrived to have a
conference with him for her greater security, and told him everything.
He replied, that there was nothing in all this that concerned his
office, because everything that she saw and heard confirmed her the
more in the Catholic faith, in which she always was, and is, firm,
with most earnest desires for the honour

of God and the good of souls, willing to suffer death many times
for one of them.

9. He told her, when he saw how distressed she
was, to give an account of it all, and of her whole life, without
omitting anything, to the Master Avila, who was a man of great
learning in the way of prayer, and to rest content with the answer he
should give. She did so, and described her sins and her life. He
wrote to her and comforted her, giving her great security. The
account I gave was such that all those learned men who saw itâ€”they
were my confessorsâ€”said that it was very profitable for instruction
in spiritual things; and they commanded her to make copies of it, and
write another little book[688] for her
daughters,â€”she was prioress,â€”wherein she might give them
some instructions.

10. Notwithstanding all this, she was not
without fears at times, for she thought that spiritual men also might
be deceived like herself. She told her confessor that he might
discuss these things with certain learned men, though they were not
much given to prayer, for she had no other desire but that of knowing
whether what she experienced was in conformity with the sacred
writings or not. Now and then she took comfort in thinking
thatâ€”though she herself, because of her sins, deserved to fall into
delusionsâ€”our Lord would not suffer so many good men, anxious to give
her light, to be led into error.

11. Having this in view, she began to
communicate with fathers of the Order of the glorious St. Dominic, to which, before these things took
place, she had been to confessionâ€”she does not say to them, but to
the Order.[689] These are they with whom she
afterwards had relations. The Father Fra Vicente Barron, at that

time Consultor of the Holy Office, heard her confessions for
eighteen months in Toledo, and he had done so very many years before
these things began. He was a very learned man. He reassured her
greatly, as did also the fathers of the Society spoken of before. All
used to say, If she does not sin against God, and acknowledges her own
misery, what has she to be afraid of? She confessed to the Father Fra
Pedro IbaÃ±ez, who was reader in Avila; to the Father-Master Fra
Dominic BaÃ±es, who is now in Valladolid as rector of the college of
St. Gregory, I confessed for six years, and
whenever I had occasion to do so communicated with him by letter; also
to the Master Chaves; to the Father-Master Fra Bartholomew of Medina,
professor in Salamanca, of whom she knew that he thought ill of her;
for she, having heard this, thought that he, better than any other,
could tell her if she was deceived, because he had so little
confidence in her. This was more than two years ago. She contrived
to go to confession to him, and gave him a full account of everything
while she remained there; and he saw what she had
written,[690] for the purpose of attaining to a
better understanding of the matter. He reassured her so much, and
more than all the rest, and remained her very good friend.

12. She went to confession also to Fra Philip
de Meneses, when she founded the monastery of Valladolid, for he was
rector of the college of St. Gregory. He,
having before that heard of her state, had gone to Avila, that he
might speak to her,â€”it was an act of great charity,â€”being desirous
of ascertaining whether she was deluded, so that he might enlighten
her, and, if she was not, defend her when he heard her spoken against;
and he was much satisfied.

13. She also conferred particularly with
Salinas, Dominican Provincial, a man of great spirituality;

with another licentiate named Lunar, who was prior of St. Thomas of Avila; and, in Segovia, with a
reader, Fra Diego de YangÃ¼es.

14. Of these Dominicans some never failed to
give themselves greatly to prayer, and perhaps all did. Some others
also she consulted; for in so many years, and because of the fear she
was in, she had opportunities of doing so, especially as she went
about founding monasteries in so many places. Her spirit was tried
enough, for everybody wished to be able to enlighten her, and thereby
reassured her and themselves. She always, at all times, wished to
submit herself to whatever they enjoined her, and she was therefore
distressed when, as to these spiritual things, she could not obey
them. Both her own prayer, and that of the nuns she has established,
are always carefully directed towards the propagation of the faith;
and it was for that purpose, and for the good of her Order, that she
began her first monastery.

15. She used to say that, if any of these
things tended to lead her against the Catholic faith and the law of
God, she would not need to seek for learned men nor tests, because she
would see at once that they came from Satan. She never undertook
anything merely because it came to her in prayer; on the contrary,
when her confessors bade her do the reverse, she did so without being
in the least troubled thereat, and she always told them everything.
For all that they told her that these things came from God, she never
so thoroughly believed them that she could swear to it herself, though
it did seem to her that they were spiritually safe, because of the
effects thereof, and of the great graces which she at times received;
but she always desired virtues more than anything else; and this it is
that she has charged her nuns to desire, saying to them that the most
humble and mortified will be the most spiritual.

16. All that is told and written
she communicated

to the Father-Master Fra Dominic BaÃ±es, who is now in Valladolid,
and who is the person with whom she has had, and has still, the most
frequent communications. He sent her writings to the Holy Office in
Madrid, so it is said. In all this she submits herself to the
Catholic faith and the Roman Church. Nobody has found fault with
them, because these things are not in the power of any man, and our
Lord does not require what is impossible.

17. The reason why so much is known about her
is that, as she was in fear about herself, and described her state to
so many, these talked to one another on the subject and also the
accident that happened to what she had
written.[691] This has been to her a very
grievous torment and cross, and has cost her many tears. She says
that this distress is not the effect of humility, but of the causes
already mentioned. Our Lord seems to have given
permission[692] for this torture for if one
spoke more harshly of her than others, by little and little he spoke
more kindly of her.

18. She took the greatest pains not to submit
the state of her soul to any one who she thought would believe that
these things came from God, for she was instantly afraid that the
devil would deceive them both. If she saw any one timid about these
things, to him she laid bare her secrets with the greater joy; though
also it gave her pain when, for the purpose of trying her, these
things were treated with contempt, for she thought some were really
from God, and she would not have people, even if they had good cause,
condemn them so absolutely; neither would she have them believe that
all were from God; and because she knew perfectly well that delusion
was possible, therefore it was that she never thought herself
altogether safe in a matter wherein there might be danger.

19. She used to strive with all her might never
in any way to offend God, and was always obedient;

and by these means she thought she might obtain her deliverance,
by the help of God, even if Satan were the cause.

20. Ever since she became subject to these
supernatural visitations, her spirit is always inclined to seek after
that which is most perfect, and she had almost always a great desire
to suffer; and in the persecutions she underwent, and they were many,
she was comforted, and had a particular affection for her persecutors.
She had a great desire to be poor and lonely, and to depart out of
this land of exile in order to see God. Through these effects, and
others like them, she began to find peace, thinking that a spirit
which could leave her with these virtues could not be an evil one, and
they who had the charge of her soul said so; but it was a peace that
came from diminished weariness, not from the cessation of fear.

21. The spirit she is of never urged her to
make any of these things known, but to be always
obedient.[693] As it has been said
already,[694] she never saw anything with her
bodily eyes, but in a way so subtile and so intellectual that at first
she sometimes thought that all was the effect of imagination; at other
times she could not think so. These things were not continual, but
occurred for the most part when she was in some trouble: as on one
occasion, when for some days she had to bear unendurable interior
pains, and a restlessness of soul arising out of the fear that she was
deluded by Satan, as it is described at length in the account she has
given of it,[695] and where her sins, for they
have been so public, are mentioned with the rest: for the fear she was
in made her forget her own good name.

22. Being thus in distress such as cannot be
described, at the mere hearing interiorly these
words,[696] "It is I, be not afraid,"
her soul became so calm, courageous, and confident, that she could
not understand

whence so great a blessing had come; for her confessor had not been
ableâ€”and many learned men, with many words, had not been ableâ€”to
give her that peace and rest which this one word had given her. And
thus, at other times, some vision gave her strength, for without that
she could not have borne such great trials and contradictions,
together with infirmities without number, and which she still has to
bear, though they are not so many,â€”for she is never free from some
suffering or other, more or less intense. Her ordinary state is
constant pain, with many other infirmities, though since she became a
nun they are more troublesome, if she is doing anything in the service
of our Lord. And the mercies He shows her pass quickly out of memory,
though she often dwells on those mercies,â€”but she is not able to
dwell so long upon these as upon her sins; these are always a torment
to her, most commonly as filth smelling foully.

23. That her sins are so many, and her service
of God so scanty, must be the reason why she is not tempted to
vainglory. There never was anything in any of these spiritual
visitations that was not wholly pure and clean, nor does she think it
can be otherwise if the spirit be good and the visitations
supernatural, for she utterly neglects the body and never thinks of
it, being wholly intent upon God.

24. She is also living in great fear about
sinning against God, and doing His will in all things; this is her
continual prayer. And she is, she thinks, so determined never to
swerve from this, that there is nothing her confessors might enjoin
her, which she considers to be for the greater honour of our Lord,
that she would not undertake and perform, by the help of our Lord.
And confident that His Majesty helps those who have resolved to
advance His service and glory, she thinks no more of herself and of
her own progress, in comparison with that, than if she did not exist,
so far as she knows herself, and her confessors think so too.

25. All that is written in this paper is the
simple truth, and they, and all others who have had anything to do
with her for these twenty years, can justify it. Most frequently her
spirit urged her to praise God, and she wished that all the world gave
itself up to that, even though it should cost her exceedingly. Hence
the desire she has for the good of souls; and from considering how
vile are the things of this world, and how precious are interior
things, with which nothing can be compared, she has attained to a
contempt of the world.

26. As for the vision about which you, my
father, wish to know something, it is of this kind: she sees nothing
either outwardly or inwardly, for the vision is not imaginary: but,
without seeing anything, she understands what it is, and where it is,
more clearly than if she saw it, only nothing in particular presents
itself to her. She is like a person who feels that another is close
beside her; but because she is in the dark she sees him not, yet is
certain that he is there present. Still, this comparison is not
exact; for he who is in the dark, in some way or other, through
hearing a noise or having seen that person before, knows he is there,
or knew it before; but here there is nothing of the kind, for without
a word, inward or outward, the soul clearly perceives who it is, where
he is, and occasionally what
he means.[697]
Why, or how, she perceives it, she knoweth not; but so it is; and
while it lasts, she cannot help being aware of it. And when it is
over,â€”though she may wish ever so much to retain the image
thereof,â€”she cannot do it, for it is then clear to her that it would
be, in that case, an act of the imagination, not the vision
itself,â€”that is not in her power; and so it is with the supernatural
things. And it is from this it comes to pass that he in whom God works
these graces despises himself, and becomes more humble than he was
ever before, for he

sees that this is a gift of God, and that he can neither add to it
nor take from it. The love and the desire become greater of serving
our Lord, who is so mighty that He can do that which is more than our
imagination can conceive here, as there are things which men, however
learned they may be, can never know. Blessed for ever and ever be He
who bestows this! Amen.

The Relations or Manifestations

Relation VIII

Addressed to F. Rodrigo Alvarez.

These interior things of the spirit are so
difficult to describe, and, still more, in such a way as to be
understood,â€”the more so as they pass quickly away,â€”that, if
obedience did not help me, it would be a chance if I succeeded,
especially in such difficult things. I implore you, my father, to
take for granted that it is not in my mind to think this to be
correct, for it may well be that I do not understand the matter; but
what I can assure you of is this, that I will speak of nothing I have
not had experience of at times, and, indeed, often.

2. I think it will please you, my father, if I
begin by discussing that which is at the root of supernatural things;
for that which relates to devotion, tenderness, tears, and
meditations, which is in our power here to acquire by the help of our
Lord, is understood.

3. The first prayer of which I was
conscious,â€”in my opinion, supernatural,â€”so I call that which no
skill or effort of ours, however much we labour, can attain to, though
we should prepare ourselves for it, and that preparation must be of
great service,â€”is a certain interior
recollection[698] of which the soul is sensible;
the soul seems to have other senses within

itself then, which bear some likeness to the exterior senses it
possesses; and thus the soul, withdrawing into itself, seeks to go
away from the tumult of its outward senses, and accordingly it drags
them away with itself; for it closes the eyes on purpose that it may
neither see, nor hear, nor understand anything but that whereon the
soul is then intent, which is to be able to converse with God alone.
In this prayer there is no suspension of the faculties and powers of
the soul; it retains the full use of them; but the use of them is
retained that they may be occupied with God. This will be easily
understood by him whom our Lord shall have raised to this state; but
by him whom He has not, not; at least, such a one will have need of
many words and illustrations.

4. Out of this recollection grow a certain
quietude and inward peace most full of comfort; for the soul is in
such a state that it does not seem to it that it wants anything; for
even speaking wearies it,â€”I mean by this, vocal prayer and
meditation; it would do nothing but love. This lasts some time, and
even a long time.

5. Out of this prayer comes usually what is
called a sleep of the faculties; but they are not so absorbed nor so
suspended as that it can be called a trance; nor is it
altogether union.

6. Sometimes, and even often, the soul is aware
that the will alone is in union; and this it sees very clearly,â€”that
is, it seems so to it. The will is wholly intent upon God, and the
soul sees that it has no power to rest on, or do, anything else; and
at the same time the two other faculties are at liberty to attend to
other matters of the service of God,â€”in a word, Martha and Mary are
together.[699] I asked Father
Francis[700] if this was a delusion, for it made
me stupid; and his reply was, that it often happened.

7. When all the faculties of the soul are in
union, it is a very different state of things; for they can
then do

nothing whatever, because the understanding is as it were
surprised. The will loves more than the understanding knows; but the
understanding does not know that the will loves, nor what it is doing,
so as to be able in any way to speak of it. As to the memory, the
soul, I think, has none then, nor any power of thinking, nor are the
senses awake, but rather as lost, so that the soul may be the more
occupied with the object of its fruition: so it seems to me. They are
lost but for a brief interval; it passes quickly away. By the wealth
of humility, and other virtues and desires, left in the soul after
this may be learnt how great the blessing is that flows from this
grace, but it cannot be told what it is; for, though the soul applies
itself to the understanding of it, it can neither understand nor
explain it. This, if it be real, is, in my opinion, the greatest
grace wrought by our Lord on this spiritual road,â€”at least, it is one
of the greatest.

8. Raptures and trance, in my opinion, are all
one, only I am in the habit of using the word trance instead of
rapture, because the latter word frightens people; and, indeed, the
union of which I am speaking may also be called a trance. The
difference between union and trance is this, that the latter lasts
longer and is more visible outwardly, because the breathing gradually
diminishes, so that it becomes impossible to speak or to open the
eyes; and though this very thing occurs when the soul is in union,
there is more violence in a trance for the natural warmth vanishes, I
know not how, when the rapture is deep; and in all these kinds of
prayer there is more or less of this. When it is deep, as I was
saying, the hands become cold, and sometimes stiff and straight as
pieces of wood; as to the body, if the rapture comes on when it is
standing or kneeling, it
remains so;[701] and the
soul is so full of the joy of that which our Lord is setting before
it, that it seems to forget to animate the body, and abandons it. If
the rapture lasts, the nerves are made to feel it.

9. It seems to me that our Lord will have the
soul know more of that, the fruition of which it has, in a trance than
in union, and accordingly in a rapture the soul receives most commonly
certain revelations of His Majesty, and the effects thereof on the
soul are great,â€”a forgetfulness of self, through the longing it has
that God our Lord, who is so high, may be known and praised. In my
opinion, if the rapture be from God, the soul cannot fail to obtain a
deep conviction of its own helplessness, and of its wretchedness and
ingratitude, in that it has not served Him who, of His own goodness
only, bestows upon it graces so great; for the feeling and the
sweetness are so high above all things that may be compared therewith
that, if the recollection of them did not pass away, all the
satisfactions of earth would be always loathsome to it; and hence
comes the contempt for all the things of the world.

10. The difference between trance and
transport[702] is this,â€”in a trance the soul
gradually dies to outward things, losing the senses and living unto
God. A transport comes on by one sole act of His Majesty, wrought in
the innermost part of the soul with such swiftness that it is as if
the higher part thereof were carried away, and the soul leaving the
body. Accordingly it requires courage at first to throw itself into
the arms of our Lord, that He may take it whithersoever He will; for,
until His Majesty establishes it in peace there whither He is pleased
to take itâ€”by take it I mean the admitting of it to the knowledge of
deep thingsâ€”it certainly requires in the beginning to be firmly
resolved to die for Him, because the poor soul does not know what this
meansâ€”that is, at first. The virtues, as it seems to me, remain
stronger after this, for there is a growth in detachment, and the
power of God, who is so mighty, is the more known, so that the soul
loves and fears Him. For so it is, He carries away

the soul, no longer in our power, as the true Lord thereof, which
is filled with a deep sorrow for having offended Him, and astonishment
that it ever dared to offend a Majesty so great, with an exceedingly
earnest desire that none may henceforth offend Him, and that all may
praise Him. This, I think, must be the source of those very fervent
desires for the salvation of souls, and for some share therein, and
for the due praising of God.

11. The flight of the spiritâ€”I know not how to
call itâ€”is a rising upwards from the very depths of the soul. I
remember only this comparison, and I made use of it before, as you
know, my father, in that writing where these and other ways of prayer
are explained at length,[703] and such is my
memory that I forget things at once. It seems to me that soul and
spirit are one and the same thing; but only as a fire, if it is great
and ready for burning; so, like fire burning rapidly, the soul, in
that preparation of itself which is the work of God, sends up a
flame,â€”the flame ascends on high, but the fire thereof is the same as
that below, nor does the flame cease to be fire because it ascends: so
here, in the soul, something so subtile and so swift, seems to issue
from it, that ascends to the higher part, and goes thither whither our
Lord wills. I cannot go further with the explanation; it seems a
flight, and I know of nothing else wherewith to compare it: I know
that it cannot be mistaken, for it is most evident when it occurs, and
that it cannot be hindered.

12. This little bird of the spirit seems to
have escaped out of this wretchedness of the flesh, out of the prison
of this body, and now, disentangled therefrom, is able to be the more
intent on that which our Lord is giving it. The flight of the spirit
is something so fine, of such inestimable worth, as the soul perceives
it, that all delusion therein seems impossible, or anything of the
kind, when it occurs. It was afterwards

that fear arose, because she who received this grace was so wicked;
for she saw what good reasons she had to be afraid of everything,
though in her innermost soul there remained an assurance and a
confidence wherein she was able to live, but not enough to make her
cease from the anxiety she was in not to be deceived.

13. By impetus I mean that desire which at
times rushes into the soul, without being preceded by prayer, and this
is most frequently the case; it is a sudden remembering that the soul
is away from God, or of a word it has heard to that effect. This
remembering is occasionally so strong and vehement that the soul in a
moment becomes as if the reason were gone, just like a person who
suddenly hears most painful tidings of which he knew not before, or is
surprised; such a one seems deprived of the power of collecting his
thoughts for his own comfort, and is as one lost. So is it in this
state, except that the suffering arises from this, that there abides
in the soul a conviction that it would be well worth dying in it. It
seems that whatever the soul then perceives does but increase its
suffering, and that our Lord will have its whole being find no comfort
in anything, nor remember that it is His will that it should live: the
soul seems to itself to be in great and indescribable loneliness, and
abandoned of all, because the world, and all that is in it, gives it
pain; and because it finds no companionship in any created thing, the
soul seeks its Creator alone, and this it sees to be impossible unless
it dies; and as it must not kill itself, it is dying to die, and there
is really a risk of death, and it sees itself hanging between heaven
and earth, not knowing what to do with itself. And from time to time
God gives it a certain knowledge of Himself, that it may see what it
loses, in a way so strange that no explanation of it is possible; and
there is no pain in the worldâ€”at least I have felt noneâ€”that is
equal or like unto this, for if it lasts but half an hour the whole
body is out of

joint, and the bones so racked, that I am not able to write with my
hands: the pains I endure are
most grievous.[704]

14. But nothing of all this is felt till the
impetus shall have passed away. He to whom it comes has enough to do
in enduring that which is going on within him, nor do I believe that
he would feel if he were grievously tortured: he is in possession of
all his senses, can speak, and even observe; walk about he
cannot,â€”the great blow of that love throws him down to the ground.
If we were to die to have this, it would be of no use, for it cannot
be except when God sends it. It leaves great effects and blessings in
the soul. Some learned men say that it is this, others that it is
that, but no one condemns it. The Father-Master d'Avila wrote to me
and said it was good, and so say all. The soul clearly understands
that it is a great grace from our Lord; were it to occur more
frequently, life would not last long.

15. The ordinary impetus is, that this desire
of serving God comes on with a certain tenderness, accompanied with
tears, out of a longing to depart from this land of exile; but as the
soul retains its freedom, wherein it reflects that its living on is
according to our Lord's will, it takes comfort in that thought, and
offers its life to Him, beseeching Him that it may last only for His
glory. This done, it bears all.

16. Another prayer very common is a certain
kind of wounding;[705] for it really seems to the
soul as if an arrow were thrust through the heart, or through itself.
Thus it causes great suffering, which makes the soul complain; but the
suffering is so sweet, that it wishes it never would end. The
suffering is not one of sense, neither is the wound physical; it is in
the interior of the soul, without any appearance of bodily pain;

but as I cannot explain it except by comparing it with other pains,
I make use of these clumsy expressions,â€”for such they are when
applied to this suffering. I cannot, however, explain it in any other
way. It is, therefore, neither to be written of nor spoken of,
because it is impossible for any one to understand it who has not had
experience of it,â€”I mean, how far the pain can go; for the pains of
the spirit are very different from those of earth. I gather,
therefore, from this, that the souls in hell and purgatory suffer more
than we can imagine, by considering these pains of the body.

17. At other times, this wound of love seems to
issue from the inmost depth of the soul; great are the effects of it;
and when our Lord does not inflict it, there is no help for it,
whatever we may do to obtain it; nor can it be avoided when it is His
pleasure to inflict it. The effects of it are those longings after
God, so quick and so fine that they cannot be described and when the
soul sees itself hindered and kept back from entering, as it desires,
on the fruition of God, it conceives a great loathing for the body, on
which it looks as a thick wall which hinders it from that fruition
which it then seems to have entered upon within itself, and unhindered
by the body. It then comprehends the great evil that has befallen us
through the sin of Adam in robbing us of
this liberty.[706]

18. This prayer I had before the raptures and
the great impetuosities I have been speaking of. I forgot to say that
these great impetuosities scarcely ever leave me, except through a
trance or great sweetness in our Lord, whereby He comforts the soul,
and gives it courage to live on for His sake.

19. All this that I speak of cannot be the
effect of the imagination; and I have some reasons for saying this,
but it would be wearisome to enter on them: whether it be good or not
is known to our Lord. The

effects thereof, and how it profits the soul, pass all
comprehension, as it seems to me.

20. I see clearly that the Persons are
distinct, as I saw it yesterday when you, my father, were talking to
the Father Provincial; only I saw nothing, and heard nothing, as, my
father, I have already told you. But there is a strange certainty
about it, though the eyes of the soul see nothing; and when the
presence is withdrawn, that withdrawal is felt. How it is, I know
not; but I do know very well that it is not an imagination, because I
cannot reproduce the vision when it is over, even if I were to perish
in the effort; but I have tried to do so. So is it with all that I
have spoken of here, so far as I can see; for, as I have been in this
state for so many years, I have been able to observe, so that I can
say so with this confidence. The truth is,â€”and you, my father,
should attend to this,â€”that, as to the Person who always speaks, I
can certainly say which of Them He seems to me to be; of the others I
cannot say so much. One of Them I know well has never spoken. I
never knew why, nor do I busy myself in asking more of God than He is
pleased to give, because in that case, I believe, I should be deluded
by Satan, at once; nor will I ask now, because of the fear I
am in.

21. I think the First spoke to me at times; but
as I do not remember that very well now, nor what it was that He
spoke, I will not venture to say so. It is all written,â€”you, my
father, know where,â€”and more at large than it is here; I know not
whether in the same words
or not.[707] Though
the Persons are distinct in a strange way, the soul knows One only
God. I do not remember that our Lord ever seemed to speak to me but
in His Human Nature; andâ€”I say it againâ€”I can assure you that this
is no imagination.

22. What, my father, you say about the water, I
know not; nor have I heard where the earthly paradise

is. I have already said that I cannot but listen to what our Lord
tells me; I hear it because I cannot help myself; but, as for asking
His Majesty to reveal anything to me, that is what I have never done.
In that case, I should immediately think I was imagining things, and
that I must be in a delusion of Satan. God be praised, I have never
been curious about things, and I do not care to know more than I
do.[708] What I have learnt, without seeking
to learn, as I have just said, has been a great trouble to me, though
it has been the means, I believe, which our Lord made use of to save
me, seeing that I was so wicked; good people do not need so much to
make them serve His Majesty.

23. I remember another way of prayer which I
had before the one I mentioned first,â€”namely, a presence of God,
which is not a vision at all. It seems that any one, if he recommends
himself to His Majesty, even if he only prays vocally, finds Him;
every one, at all times, can do this, if we except seasons of aridity.
May He grant I may not by my own fault lose mercies so great, and may
He have compassion on me!

The Relations or Manifestations

Relation IX

Of Certain Spiritual Graces She Received in Toledo and Avila
in the Years 1576 and 1577.

I had begun to go to confession to a certain
person[709] in the city wherein I am at present
staying, when he, though he had much good will towards me, and always
has had since he took upon himself the charge of my soul, ceased to
come here; and one night, when I was in prayer, and thinking how he
failed me, I understood

that God kept him from coming because it was expedient for me to
treat of the affairs of my soul with a certain person on the
spot.[710] I was distressed because I had to
form new relationsâ€”it might be he would not understand me, and would
disturb meâ€”and because I had a great affection for him who did me
this charity, though I was always spiritually content when I saw or
heard the latter preach; also, I thought it would not do because of
his many occupations. Our Lord said to me: "I will cause him to
hear and understand thee. Make thyself known unto him; it will be
some relief to thee in thy troubles." The latter part was
addressed to me, I think, because I was then so worn out by the
absence of God. His Majesty also said that He saw very well the
trouble I was in; but it could not be otherwise while I lived in this
land of exile: all was for my good; and he comforted me greatly. So
it has been: he comforts me, and seeks opportunities to do so; he has
understood me, and given me great relief; he is a most learned and
holy man.

2. One day,â€”it was the Feast of the
Presentation,â€”I was praying earnestly to God for a certain person,
and thinking that after all the possession of property and of freedom
was unfitting for that high sanctity which I wished him to attain to;
I reflected on his weak health, and on the spiritual health which he
communicated to souls; and I heard these words: "He serves Me
greatly; but the great thing is to follow Me stripped of everything,
as I was on the cross. Tell him to trust in Me." These last words
were said because I thought he could not, with his weak health, attain
to such perfection.

3. Once, when I was thinking of the pain it was
to me to eat meat and do no penance, I understood that there was at
times more of self-love in that feeling than of a desire
for penance.

4. Once, when I was in great distress because of
my offences against God, He said to me: "All thy sins in My sight
are as if they were not. For the future, be strong; for thy troubles
are not over."

5. One day, in prayer, I felt my soul in God in
such a way that it seemed to me as if the world did not exist, I was
so absorbed in Him. He made me then understand that verse of the
Magnificat, "Et exultavit
spiritus meus," so that I can never forget it.

6. Once, when I was thinking how people sought
to destroy this monastery of the Barefooted Carmelites, and that they
purposed, perhaps, to bring about the destruction of them all by
degrees, I heard: "They do purpose it; nevertheless, they will
never see it done, but very much the reverse."

7. Once, in deep recollection, I was praying to
God for Eliseus;[711] I heard this: "He is My
true son; I will never fail him," or to that effect; but I am not
sure of the latter words.

8. Having one day conversed with a person who
had given up much for God, and calling to mind that I had given up
nothing for Him, and had never served Him in anything, as I was bound
to do, and then considering the many graces He had wrought in my soul,
I began to be exceedingly weary; and our Lord said to me: "Thou
knowest of the betrothal between thee and Myself, and therefore all I
have is thine; and so I give thee all the labours and sorrows I
endured, and thou canst therefore ask of My Father as if they were
thine." Though I have heard that we are partakers
therein,[712] now it was in a way so different
that it seemed as if I had become possessed of a great principality;
for the affection with which He wrought this grace cannot be
described. The Father seemed to ratify the gift; and from that time
forth I look at our Lord's Passion in a very different light, as

on something that belongs to me; and that gives me
great comfort.[713]

9. On the Feast of the Magdalene, when thinking
of the great love I am bound to have for our Lord, according to the
words He spoke to, me in reference to this Saint, and having great
desires to imitate her, our Lord was very gracious unto me, and said,
I was to be henceforward strong; for I had to serve Him more than I
had hitherto done.[714] He filled me with a
desire not to die so soon, that I might have the time to occupy myself
therein; and I remained with a great resolution to suffer.

10. On one occasion, I understood how our Lord
was in all things, and how He was in the soul; and the illustration of
a sponge filled with water was suggested to me.

11. When my brothers came,â€”and I owe so much
to one of them,[715]â€”I remained in conversation
with him concerning his soul and his affairs, which wearied and
distressed me; and as I was offering this up to our Lord, and thinking
that I did it all because I was under obligations to him, I remembered
that by our Constitutions[716] we are commanded
to separate ourselves from our kindred, and I was set thinking whether
I was under any obligation, our Lord said to me: "No, My daughter;
the regulations of the Order must be only in conformity with My
law." The truth is, that the end of the Constitutions is, that we
are not to be attached to our kindred; and to converse with them, as
it seems to me, is rather wearisome, and it is painful to have
anything to do with them.

12. After Communion, on St. Augustine's Day, I

understood, and, as it were, saw,â€”I cannot tell how, unless it was
by an intellectual vision which passed rapidly away,â€”how the Three
Persons of the most Holy Trinity, whom I have always imprinted in my
soul, are One. This was revealed in a representation so strange, and
in a light so clear, that the impression made upon me was very
different from that which I have by faith. From that time forth I
have never been able to think of One of the Three Divine Persons
without thinking of the Three; so that to-day, when I was considering
how, the Three being One, the Son alone took our flesh upon Him, our
Lord showed me how, though They are One, They are also distinct.
These are marvels which make the soul desire anew to be rid of the
hindrances which the body interposes between it and the fruition of
them. Though this passes away in a moment, there remains a gain to
the soul incomparably greater than any it might have made by
meditation during many years; and all without knowing how
it happens.

13. I have a special joy on the Feast of our Lady's
Nativity. When this day was come, I thought it would be well to renew
our vows; and thereupon I saw our Lady, by an illuminative vision; and
it seemed as if we made them before her and that they were pleasing
unto her. I had this vision constantly for some days, and our Lady
was by me on my left hand. One day, after Communion, it seemed to me
that my soul was really one with the most Holy Body of our Lord, then
present before me; and that wrought a great work and blessing
in me.

14. I was once thinking whether I was to be
sent to reform a
certain monastery;[717] and,
distressed at it, I heard: "What art thou afraid of? What canst
thou lose?â€”only thy life, which thou hast so often offered to Me. I
will help thee." This was in prayer, which was of such a nature
as to ease my soul exceedingly.

15. Once, having a desire to render some
service to our Lord, I considered that I could serve Him but poorly,
and said to myself: "Why, O Lord, dost Thou desire my works?"
And He answered: "To see thy good will, My child."

16. Once our Lord gave me light in a matter
that I was very glad to understand, and I immediately forgot it, so
that I was never able to call it again to mind; and so, when I was
trying to remember it, I heard: "Thou knowest now that I speak to
thee from time to time. Do not omit to write down what I say; for,
though it may not profit thee, it may be that it will profit
others." As I was thinking whether I, for my sins, had to be of
use to others, and be lost myself, He said to me: "Have
no fear."

17. I was once recollected in that
companionship which I ever have in my soul, and it seemed to me that
God was present therein in such a way that I remembered how St. Peter said: "Thou art Christ, the Son of
the living God;"[718] for the living God
was in my soul. This is not like other visions, for it overpowers
faith; so that it is impossible to doubt of the indwelling of the
Trinity in our souls, by presence, power, and essence. To know this
truth is of the very highest gain; and as I stood amazed to see His
Majesty in a thing so vile as my soul, I heard: "It is not vile,
My child, for it is made in
My image."[719]
I also learnt something of the reason why God delights in souls more
than in any other creatures: it is so subtile that, though the
understanding quickly comprehended it, I cannot tell it.

18. When I was in such distress, because of the
troubles of our father,[720] that I had no
rest, and after Communion one day was making most earnestly my

petition to our Lord that, as He had given him to me, I might not
lose him, He said to me: "Have no fear."

19. Once, with that presence of the Three
Persons which I have in my soul, I was in light so clear that no doubt
of the presence of the true and living God was possible; and I then
came to the knowledge of things which afterwards I could not speak of.
One of these things was, how the person of the Son only took human
flesh. I cannot, as I have just said, explain it at all; for some of
these things were wrought in the secret recesses of the soul, and the
understanding seems to grasp them only as one who is in his sleep, or
half awake, thinks he comprehends what is told him. I was thinking
how hard it was to remain alive, seeing that it was living on that
robbed us of that marvellous companionship; and so I said to myself:
"O Lord, show me some way whereby I may bear this life!" He
said unto me: "Think, my child, when life is over, thou canst not
serve Me as thou art serving Me now, and eat for Me, and sleep for Me.
Whatsoever thou doest, let it be done for Me as if thou wert no longer
living, but I; for that is what St. Paul said."[721]

20. Once, after Communion, I saw how His Father
within our soul accepts the most Holy Body of Christ. I have
understood and seen how the Divine Persons are there, and how pleasing
is this offering of His Son, because He has His joy and delight in
Him, so to speak, here on earth; for it is not the Humanity only that
is with us in our, souls, but the Divinity as well, and thus is it so
pleasing and acceptable unto Him, and gives us graces so great. I
understood also that He accepts the sacrifice, though the priest be in
sin; but then the grace of it is not communicated to his soul as it is
to their souls who are in a state of grace: not that the inflowings of
grace, which proceed from this Communion wherein the Father accepts
the sacrifice, cease to flow in their strength, but because of his
fault who

has to receive them; as it is not the fault of the sun that it does
not illumine a lump of pitch, when its rays strike it as it illumines
a globe of crystal. If I could now describe it, I should be better
understood; it is a great matter to know this, because there are grand
secrets within us when we are at Communion. It is sad that these
bodies of ours do not allow us to have the fruition thereof.

21. During the Octave of All
Saints,[722] I had two or three days of
exceeding anguish, the result of my remembrance of my great sins, and
I was also in great dread of persecutions, which had no foundation
except that great accusations were brought against me, and all my
resolutions to suffer anything for God failed me: though I sought to
encourage myself, and made corresponding acts, and saw that all would
be a great pain for me, it was to little purpose, for the fear never
left me. It was a sharp warfare. I came across a letter, in which my
good father[723] had written that St. Paul said that our God does not suffer us to
be tempted beyond our power
to bear.[724] This
was a very great relief to me, but was not enough; yea, rather, on the
next day I was in great distress at his absence, for I had no one to
go to in this trouble, for I seemed to be living in great loneliness.
And it added to my grief to see that I now find no one but he who can
comfort me, and he must be more than ever away, which is a very
sore trouble.

22. The next night after this, reading in a
book, I found another saying of St. Paul,
with which I began to be comforted; and being slightly recollected, I
remained thinking how I had our Lord before present within me, so that
I truly saw Him to be the living God. While thinking on this He spoke
to me, and I saw Him in my inmost being, as it were beside my

heart, in an intellectual vision; His words were: "I am here,
only I will have thee see how little thou canst do without Me." I
was on the instant reassured, and my fears left me; and while at
Matins that very night our Lord Himself, in an intellectual vision so
clear as to seem almost imaginary, laid Himself in my arms, as He is
painted in the pictures of our Lady of
Anguish.[725] The vision made me very much
afraid, for it was so clear, and so close to me, that it made me think
whether it was an illusion or not. He said to me, "Be not afraid
of it, for the union of My Father with thy soul is incomparably closer
than this." The vision has remained with me till now. What I
have said of our Lord continued more than a month: now it has
left me.

23. I was one night in great distress, because
it was then a long time since I had heard anything of my
father;[726] and, moreover, he was not well the
last time he wrote to me. However, my distress was not so great as
that I felt before, for I had hopes, and distress like that I never
was in since; but still my anxiety hindered my prayer. He appeared to
me on the instant; it could not have been the effect of imagination,
for I saw a light within me, and himself coming by the way joyous,
with a face all fair. It must have been the light I saw that made his
face fair, for all the saints in heaven seem so; and I considered
whether it be the light and splendour proceeding from our Lord that
render them thus fair. I heard this: "Tell him to begin at once
without fear, for the victory is his."

24. One day, after he came, when I was at night
giving thanks to our Lord for the many mercies He had given unto me,
He said to me: "O my child, what canst thou ask that I have
not done?"

25. Our Lord said to me one day, in the
monastery of Veas, that I was to present my petition to Him, for I was
His bride. He promised to grant whatever I might ask of Him, and, as
a pledge, gave me a very beautiful ring, with a stone set in it like
an amethyst, but of a brilliancy very unlike, which He put on my
finger. I write this to my own confusion, considering the goodness of
God, and my wretched life; for I have deserved hell. Ah! my
daughters, pray to God for me, and be devout to St. Joseph, who can do much. This folly I
write . . . folly I write. . . .

26. On the eve of St. Laurence, at Communion, I was so distracted
and dissipated in mind, that I had no power over it, and began to envy
those who dwell in desert places; thinking that, as they see and hear
nothing, they are exempt from distractions. I heard this: "Thou
art greatly deceived, My daughter; on the contrary, the temptations of
Satan are more violent there. Have patience while life lasts, it
cannot be helped." While dwelling on this, I became suddenly
recollected, and I saw a great light within me, so that I thought I
was in another world, and my spirit found itself interiorly in a
forest and in a garden of delights, which made me remember those words
of the Canticle:[727] "Veniat dilectus meus in hortum suum." I saw
my Eliseus[728] there, not at all swarthy, but
in strange beauty: around his head was a garland of precious stones; a
multitude of damsels went before him with palms in their hands, all
singing hymns of praise unto God. I did nothing but open my eyes, to
see whether I could not distract myself from the vision, but that
failed to divert my attention; and I thought there was music
also,â€”the singing of birds and of angels,â€”which filled my soul with
joy, though

I did not hear any. My soul was in joy, and did not consider that
there was nobody else there. I heard these words: "He has merited
to be among you, and all this rejoicing which thou beholdest will take
place on the day he shall set aside for the honour of My
Mother;[729] and do thou make haste, if thou
wouldst reach the place where he is." This vision lasted more
than an hour and a half. In this respectâ€”differently from my other
visionsâ€”I could not turn away from it, and it filled me with delight.
The effect of the vision was a great affection for Eliseus, and a more
frequent thinking of him in that beauty. I have had a fear of its
being a temptation, for work of the imagination it could not
possibly be.[730]

27. The day after the presentation of the
Brief,[731] as I was in the most eager
expectation, which utterly disturbed me, so that I could not even
pray,â€”for I had been told that our father was in great straits
because they would not let him come away, and that there was a great
tumult,â€”I heard these words: "O woman of little faith, be quiet;
everything is going on perfectly well." It was the Feast of the
Presentation of our Lady, in the year 1575. I resolved within myself,
if our Lady obtained from her Son that we might see ourselves and our
father free of these friars, to ask him to order the solemn
celebration of that feast every year in our monasteries of the
Barefooted Carmelites. When I made this resolution, I did not
remember what I had heard in a former vision, that he would establish
this solemnity. Now, in reading again this little paper, I think this
must be the feast
referred to.[732]

The Relations or Manifestations

Relation X

Of a Revelation to the Saint at Avila, 1579, and of Certain
Directions Concerning the Government of the Order.

In St. Joseph of Avila, on Pentecost
eve, in the hermitage of Nazareth, thinking of one of the greatest
graces our Lord had given me on that day some twenty years
before,[733] more or less, my spirit was
vehemently stirred and grew hot
within me,[734]
and I fell into a trance. In that profound recollection I heard our
Lord say what I am now going to tell: I was to say to the Barefooted
Fathers, as from Him, that they must strive to observe four things;
and that so long as they observed them, the Order would increase more
and more; and if they neglected them, they should know that they were
falling away from their first estate.

The first is, the superiors of the monasteries are to be of
one mind.

The second, even if they have many monasteries, to have but
few friars in each.

The third, to converse little with people in the world, and
that only for the good of their souls.

The fourth, to teach more by works than by words.

This happened in the year 1579; and because it is a great
truth, I have put my name to it.

Teresa de JesÃºs.

The Relations or Manifestations

Relation XI

Written from Palencia in May 1581, and Addressed to Don Alonzo
Velasquez, Bishop of Osma, Who Had Been, When Canon of Toledo, One of
the Saint's Confessors.[735]

Jesus.

1. Oh, that I could clearly explain to your
Lordship the peace and quiet my soul has found! for it has so great a
certainty of the fruition of God, that it seems to be as if already in
possession,[736] though the joy is withheld. I
am as one to whom another has granted by deed a large revenue, into
the enjoyment and use of which he is to come at a certain time, but
until then has nothing but the right already given him to the revenue.
In gratitude for this, my soul would abstain from the joy of it,
because it has not deserved it; it wishes only to serve Him, even if
in great suffering, and at times it thinks it would be very little if,
till the end of the world, it had to serve Him who has given it this
right; for, in truth, it is in some measure no longer subject, as
before, to the miseries of this world; though it suffers more, it
seems as if only the habit were struck, for my soul is, as it were, in
a fortress with authority, and accordingly does not lose its peace.
Still, this confidence does not remove from it its great fear of
offending God, nor make it less careful to put away every hindrance to
His service, yea, rather, it is more careful than before. But it is
so forgetful of its own interests as to seem, in some measure, to have
lost itself, so forgetful of self is it in this. Everything is

directed to the honour of God, to the doing of His will more and
more, and the advancement of His glory.

2. Though this be so, yet, in all that relates
to health and the care of the body, it seems to me that I am more
careful than I was, that I mortify myself less in my food, and do
fewer penances: it is not so with the desires I had; they seem to be
greater. All this is done that I may be the better able to serve God
in other things, for I offer to Him very often, as a great sacrifice,
the care I take of my body, and that wearies me much, and I try it
sometimes in acts of mortification; but, after all, this cannot be
done without losing health, and I must not neglect what my superiors
command. Herein, and in the wish for health, much self-love also must
insinuate itself; but, as it seems to me, I feel that it would give me
more pleasure, and it gave me more pleasure when I was strong, to do
penance, for, at least, I seemed to be doing something, and was giving
a good example, and I was free from the vexation which arises out of
the fact that I am not serving God at all. Your Lordship will see
what it will be best to do in the matter.

3. The imaginary visions have ceased, but the
intellectual vision of the Three Persons and of the Sacred Humanity
seems ever present, and that, I believe, is a vision of a much higher
kind; and I understand now, so I think, that the visions I had came
from God, because they prepared my soul for its present state; they
were given only because I was so wretched and so weak: God led me by
the way which He saw was necessary; but they are, in my opinion, of
great worth when they come from God.

4. The interior locutions have not left me,
for, whenever it is necessary, our Lord gives me certain directions;
and now, in Palencia, were it not for these, there would have been
committed a great blunder, though not
a sin.[737]

5. The acts and desires do not seem to be so
vigorous as they used to be, for, though they are great, I have one
much greater to see the will of God accomplished and His glory
increased; for as the soul is well aware that His Majesty knoweth what
is expedient herein, and is so far removed from all self-seeking,
these acts and desires quickly end, and, as it seems to me, have no
strength. Hence the fear I have at times though without disquietude
and pain as formerly, that my soul is dulled, and that I am doing
nothing, because I can do no penance; acts of desire for suffering,
for martyrdom, and of the vision of God, have no strength in them,
and, most frequently, I cannot make them. I seem to live only for
eating and drinking, and avoiding pain in everything; and yet this
gives me none, except that sometimes, as I said before, I am afraid
that this is a delusion; but I cannot believe it, because so far as I
can see, I am not under the sway of any strong attachment to any
created thing, not even to all the bliss of heaven, but only to the
love of God; and this does not grow less,â€”on the contrary, I believe
it is growing, together with the longing that all men may
serve Him.

6. But, for all this, one thing amazes me: I
have not the feelings I had formerly, so strong and so interior, which
tormented me when I saw souls go to their ruin, and when I used to
think I had offended God. I cannot have these feelings now, though I
believe my desire that God be not sinned against is not less than
it was.

7. Your Lordship must consider that in all
this, in my present as well as in my previous state, I can do no more,
and that it is not in my power to serve Him better: I might do so, if
I were not so wicked. I may say, also, that if I were now to make
great efforts to wish to die, I could not, nor can I make the acts I
used to make, nor feel the pains I felt for having offended God, nor
the great fears I had for so many years when

{p. 479}

I thought I was under a delusion: and accordingly, I have no need
of learned men, or of speaking to anybody at all, only to satisfy
myself that I am going the right road now, and whether I can do
anything. I have consulted certain persons on this point, with whom I
had taken counsel on the others, with Fra Dominic [i.e., BaÃ±es], the
Master Medina, and certain members of the Society. I will be
satisfied with the answer which you, my Lord, may give me, because of
the great trust I have in your Lordship. Consider it carefully, for
the love of God! Neither do I cease to learn that certain souls of
people connected with me when they died are in heaven: of others I
learn nothing. Oh, in what solitude I find myself when I consider
that the comparison of which I spoke to you, concerning the return
from Egypt, does not apply to the child at my
mother's breast.[738]

8. I am at peace within; and my likings and
dislikings have so little power to take from me the Presence of the
Three Persons, of which, while it continues, it is so impossible to
doubt, that I seem clearly to know by experience what is recorded by
St. John, that God will make His dwelling
in the soul:[739] and not only by grace, but
because He will have the soul feel that presence, and it brings with
it so many blessings, particularly this, that there is no need to run
after reflections to learn that God is there. This is almost always
the state I am in, except when my great infirmities oppress me.
Sometimes, God will have me suffer without any inward comfort; but my
will never swervesâ€”not even in its first movementsâ€”from the will of
God. This resignation to His will is so efficacious, that I desire
neither life nor death, except for some moments, when I long to see
God; and then the Presence of the Three Persons becomes so distinct as
to relieve the pain of the absence, and I wish to liveâ€”if such be His
good pleasureâ€”to serve Him still longer. And if I

might help, by my prayers, to make but one soul love Him more, and
praise Him, and that only for a short time, I think that of more
importance than to dwell in glory.

The unworthy servant and daughter of your Lordship,

Teresa de JesÃºs.

The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, of The Order of Our Lady of Carmel

Footnotes

1.
Chap. xxxiv.,
note 5.

Chap. xviii. Â§ 11.

Fuente, Obras (1881), vol. vi. p. 133.

See the licence granted by Leo X.
to the prioress and convent of the Incarnation to build another house
for the use of the said convent, and to migrate thither (Vatican
Archives, Dataria, Leo X., anno i., vol. viii., fol. 82). Also a
licence to sell or exchange certain property belonging to it (ibid.,
anno iv., vol. vii., f. 274; and a charge to the Bishop of Avila
concerning a recourse of the said convent (ibid., anno vii., vol. iv.,
f. 24).

Chap. iv
Â§ 9.

Lettres de Ste. ThÃ©rÃ¨se, edit. P. GrÃ©goire de S. Joseph, vol. iii, p. 419, note 2.

Chap. xxxvi. Â§
10. The date of this part of the Life can be easily
ascertained from the two following chapters. In xxxvii. Â§ 18, St. Teresa says that she is not yet fifty years
old, consequently the chapter must have been written before the end of
March, 1565; and in the next chapter, xxxviii. Â§ 15, she speaks of the death
of Father Pedro IbaÃ±ez, which appears to have taken place on 2nd
February. This, at least, is the date under which his name appears in
the AnnÃ©e Dominicaine, and the Very Rev. Prior Vincent McNabb tells me that there
is every reason to think that it is the date of
his death.

When about A.D. 1452 certain
communities of Beguines demanded affiliation to the Carmelite Order,
they were given the Constitutions of the friars without any
alterations. These Constitutions were revised in 1462, but neither
there nor in the Acts of the General Chapters, so far as these are
preserved, is there the slightest reference to convents of nuns. The
colophon of the printed edition (Venice, 1499) shows that they held
good for friars and nuns: Expliciunt sacrae
constitutiones novae fratrum et sororum beatae Mariae de Monte
Carmelo. They contain the customary laws forbidding the friars
note continues, p. xiii. under pain of excommunication, to leave the
precincts of their convents without due licence, but do not enjoin
strict enclosure, which would have been incompatible with their manner
of life and their various duties. St.
Teresa nowhere insinuates that the Constitutions, such as they were,
were not kept at the Incarnation; her remarks in chap. vii. are
aimed at the Constitutions themselves, which were never made for nuns,
and therefore did not provide for the needs of
their convents.

Reforma lib. i., cap.
47. Bollandists. no. 366.

Chap. vii.
Â§ 11.

Chap. v.
Â§ 2.

Constitutions of 1462. Part i.,
cap. x.

Chap. xxiii.
Â§ 17.

Deposition for the process of
canonisation, written in 1591. Fuente, Obras,
vol. vi., p. 174.

See the notes to chapters vii. Â§ 11; xvi. Â§ 10; xx. Â§ 6; xxiv. Â§ 4; xxvii. Â§ 17. At the end of chapter xxxi. we are told on
the authority of Don Vicente that the "first" Life must have
ended at this point.

Bollandists,
no. 1518.

Lettres,
edit. GrÃ©goire. I., pp. 13 (18 May, 1568); 21 (27 May); 35
(2 November).

Reforma,
vol. i., lib. v., cap. xxxv., no. 9. Bollandists,
no. 1518.

If the latter, it must have been
very much shorter than the second edition, and can scarcely have
contained more than the first nine chapters (perhaps verbatim) and an
account of the visions, locutions, etc., contained in chapters
xxiii.â€“xxxi., without comment.

Chap. xxxiii.
Â§ 7.

Chap. xxxiv.
Â§ 8.

Chap. xvi.
Â§ 2.

Chap. xvii.
Â§ 7.

Chap. xxviii.
Â§ 10.

In the Prologue to the
Book of Foundations, Father Garcia de Toledo, note
continues, p. xviii. her confessor at St. Joseph's Convent, is said to be responsible
for the order to rewrite the "Life"; but in the Preface to the "Life" St. Teresa speaks of her "confessors" in
the plural. Fathers IbaÃ±ez and BaÃ±ez may be included in the number.
See also ch. xxx. Â§ 27.

Chap. xviii.
Â§ 11.

Chap. xiii. Â§
22. In chap. xvi. Â§ 12, the Saint says: "I
wish we five who now love one another in our Lord, had made some such
arrangement, etc." Fuente is of opinion that these five were,
besides the Saint, Father Julian de Avila, Don Francisco de Salcedo,
St. John of the Cross, and Don Lorenzo de
Cepeda, St. Teresa's brother: but this is
impossible at the date of this part of the "Life." It is more
probable that she meant Francisco de Salcedo, Gaspar Daza, Julian de
Avila, and Father IbaÃ±ez, the latter being still alive in the
beginning of 1564, when this chapter was written. It is more
difficult to say who the three confessors were whom St. Teresa desired to see the "Life"
(ch. xl. Â§ 32). If, as I think, the
book was first handed to Father Garcia de Toledo, the others may have
been Francisco de Salcedo, Baltasar Alvarez, and Gaspar
de Salazar.

Chap. x. Â§Â§ 11
and 12.

This is the second reason why
the letter could not have been addressed to Father IbaÃ±ez
in 1562.

Edited by Don Francisco Herrero
Bayona, 1883 p. 4.

Ibid., chap. xli. (see Dalton's translation, chap. xxv.).

Ibid., chap. lxxiii. See the difference in Dalton's
translation, chap. xlii.

Fuente, Obras, vol. vi., p. 275.

See the following Preface, p.
xxxvii. Lettres, ed. GrÃ©goire, ii., p. 65. P.
Bertholde-Ignace, Vie de la MÃ¨re Anne de JÃ©sus,
i., p. 472.

In the Prologue to the
Book of Foundations, St.
Teresa says that Father Garcia de Toledo ordered her to rewrite the
book the same year in which St. Joseph's
Convent was founded, i.e. 1562, but seeing that she only spent
a few hours there and that the principal difficulties only arose after
her return to the Incarnation, it appears more probable that Father
Garcia's command was not made until the spring of the following year,
when she went to live at St. Joseph's.

Chap. x.
Â§ 11.

See Historia
Generalis Fratrum Discalceatorum Ordinis B. Virginis Mariae de Monte
Carmelo Congregationis Eliae. Romae,
1668, vol. i., pp. 340â€“358 ad ann. 1604.

See Carmel in
England, by Rev. Father B.
Zimmerman, p. 240 sqq.

St.
Teresa wrote no title, either of the whole book or of the Preface, but
only the monogram J.H.S., which is repeated at the beginning of the
first chapter and at the end of the last, previous to the letter with
which the volume concludes.

"El
SeÃ±or" is everywhere translated by "God" in
distinction to "Nuestro SeÃ±or,"
"Our Lord."

"In an excellent manner,"
scored through by the Saint herself.

"To be read with great care,
as it is explained in a most delicate way, and contains many
noteworthy points," also scored through by St. Teresa herself.

"This is most admirable,"
scored through by the Saint.

"Una
cifra," a mere nothing.

Fr. Anton. a St. Joseph, in his
note on letter 16, but letter 41, vol. iv. ed. Doblado.

Reforma de los
DescalÃ§os. lib. i. ch. vii. Â§ 3.

Ch. iii.
Â§ 2.

Ch. iii.
Â§ 9.

Ch. i.
Â§ 3.

Ch.
xxiii. Â§ 2.

Ch.
xxiii. Â§ 8.

Id.
Â§ 12.

Ch.
xxiv. Â§ 1.

Id.
Â§ 4.

Ch.
xxix. Â§ 4.

Ch.
xxxiii. Â§ 6.

The Saint held him in great
reverence, and in one of her lettersâ€”lett. 355, but lett. 100, vol.
ii. ed. Dobladoâ€”calls him a founder of her Order, because of the
great services he had rendered her, and told her nuns of Seville that
they need not be veiled in his presence, though they must be so in the
presence of everybody else, and even the friars of
the Reform.

See Life, ch. xxix.
Â§ 6.

Rel. vii.
Â§ 9.

Reforma de los
DescalÃ§os, lib. ii. c. xxviii. Â§ 6.

Introduccion al libro de la
Vida, vol. i. p. 3.

Jerome Gratian,
Lucidario, c. iv.

Life, ch. xxxvi.
Â§ 15.

The Saint says of herself, Rel. vii. Â§
18, that "she took the greatest pains not to submit the state
of her soul to any one who she thought would believe that these things
came from God, for she was instantly afraid that the devil would
deceive them both."

Rel. vii.
Â§ 16.

"Como hombre
criado toda mi vida en leer y disputar" (De la
Fuente, ii. p. 376).

2 Cor. xi. 14: "Ipse enim Satanas transfigurat se in
angelum lucis."

The other theologian appointed
by the Inquisition, with Fra BaÃ±es, to examine
the "Life."

This took place in the year
1580, according to the Chronicler of the Order
(Reforma de los DescalÃ§os, lib. v. c. xxxv. Â§
4); and the Bollandists (n. 1536) accept his statement. Fra Jerome
says he was Provincial of his Order at the time; and as he was elected
only on the 4th of March, 1581, according to the Chronicler and the
Bollandists, it is more likely that the audience granted to them by
the Cardinal took place in 1581.

Reforma de los
DescalÃ§os, lib. v. c. xxxiv. Â§ 4: "Relaciones de su espiritu."

Rel. ii.
Â§ 18.

In the same year St. Philip was born in Florence. St. Teresa died in 1582, and St. Philip in 1595; but they were canonised on
the same day, with St. Isidore, St. Ignatius, and St.
Francis Xavier. The three latter were joined together in the three
final consistories held before the solemn proclamation of their
sanctity, and St. Teresa and St. Philip were joined together in the same way
in the final consistories held
specially, as usual, for them.

This must be an error. See ch. i. Â§ 7, note 7.

There is a difficulty about this.
The Bollandists maintain that she went to the monastery of the
Incarnation in the year 1533. On the other hand Ribera, her most
accurate biographerâ€”with whom Fra Jerome agrees,â€”says that she left
her father's house in 1535, when she was more than twenty years of
age; Yepes, that she was not yet twenty; and the Second Relation of
the Rota, that she was in her twentieth year. The Bull of
Canonisation and the Office in the Breviary also say that she was in
her twentieth year, that is, A.D. 1534. The Chronicler of the Order
differs from all and assigns the year 1536 as the year in which she
entered the monastery.

Ch. vii. Â§ 11, see note there.

Ch. ix. Â§ 1.

Ch. xxiv. Â§ 7.

Ch. xxxii. Â§ 1.

Ch. xxix. Â§ 17.

Ch. xxvii. Â§ 3, ch. xxviii. Â§ 2.

Ch. xxxiii. Â§ 13.

Ch. xxxv. Â§ 14, note.

Ch. xxxiv. Â§ 24.

The Saint, in a letter written
November 19, 1581, to Don Pedro de Castro, then canon of Avila,
speaking of this book, calls it the book "Of the compassions of
God"â€”Y ansi intitule ese libro De las Misericordias
de Dios. That letter is the 358th in the edition of Don Vicente de
la Fuente, and the 8th of the fourth volume of the Doblado edition of
Madrid. "Vitam igitur suam internam et
supernaturalem magis pandit quam narrat actiones suas mere
humanas" (Bollandists, n. 2).

See ch.
xxxvii. Â§ 1; where the Saint says that she saw them in a vision
both in Heaven.

Alfonso Sanchez de Cepeda, father
of the Saint, married first Catalina del Peso y Henao, and had three
childrenâ€”one daughter, Maria de Cepeda, and two sons. After the
death of Catalina, he married Beatriz Davila y Ahumada, by whom he had
nine childrenâ€”seven boys and two girls. The third of these, and the
eldest of the daughters, was the Saint, DoÃ±a Teresa Sanchez Cepeda
Davila y Ahumada. In the Monastery of the Incarnation, where she was
a professed nun for twenty-eight years, she was known as DoÃ±a Teresa;
but in the year 1563, when she left her monastery for the new
foundation of St. Joseph, of the Reform of
the Carmelites, she took for the first time the name of Teresa of
Jesus (De la Fuente). The Saint was born March 28, 1515, and baptized
on the 4th of April, in the church of St. John; on which day Mass was said for the
first time in the Monastery of the Incarnation, where the Saint made
her profession. Her godfather was Vela NuÃ±ez, and her godmother DoÃ±a
Maria del Aguila. The Bollandists and Father Bouix say that she was
baptized on the very day of her birth. But the testimony of DoÃ±a
Maria de Pinel, a nun in the Monastery of the Incarnation, is clear:
and Don Vicente de La Fuente, quoting it, vol. i. p. 549, says that
this delay of baptism was nothing singular in those days, provided
there was no danger of death.

Rodrigo de Cepeda, four years older
than the Saint, entered the army, and, serving in South America, was
drowned in the river Plate, Rio de la Plata. St. Teresa always considered him a martyr,
because he died in defence of the Catholic faith (Ribera,
lib. i. ch. iii.). Before he sailed for the Indies, he made his will,
and left all his property to the Saint, his sister
(Reforma de los DescalÃ§os, vol. i. lib. i. ch.
iii. Â§ 4).

The Bollandists incline to believe
that St. Teresa may not have intended to
quit Spain, because all the Moors were not at that time driven out of
the country. The Bull of the Saint's canonization, and the Lections
of the Breviary, say that she left her father's house, ut in
Africam trajiceret.

The two children set out on their
strange journeyâ€”one of them seven, the other eleven, years
oldâ€”through the Adaja Gate; but when they had crossed the bridge,
they were met by one of their uncles, who brought them back to their
mother, who had already sent through Avila in quest of them. Rodrigo,
like Adam, excused himself, and laid the blame on the woman
(Ribera, lib. i. ch. iii.). Francisco de Santa Maria,
chronicler of the Order, says that the uncle was Francisco Alvarez de
Cepeda (Reforma de los DescalÃ§os, lib. i. ch.
v. Â§ 4).

She was also marvellously touched
by the story of the Samaritan woman at the well, of whom there was a
picture in her room (Ribera, lib. i. ch. iv.). She
speaks of this later on. (See ch. xxx.
Â§ 24.)

The last will and testament of DoÃ±a
Beatriz de Ahumada was made November 24, 1528 and she may have died
soon after. If there be no mistake in the copy of that instrument,
the Saint must have been more than twelve years old at that time. Don
Vicente, in a note, says, with the Bollandists, that DoÃ±a Beatriz died
at the end of the year 1526, or in the beginning of 1527; but it is
probable that, when he wrote that note, he had not read the copy of
the will, which he has printed in the first volume of the Saint's
writings, p. 550.

Our Lady of Charity, in the church
of the hospital where the poor and pilgrims were received in
Avila (Bouix).

The Saint throughout her life was
extremely careful of cleanliness. In one of her letters to Father
Jerome Gratian of the Mother of God (No. 323, Letter 28, vol. iii. ed.
Doblado), she begs him, for the love of God, to see that the Fathers
had clean cells and table; and the Ven. Mother Anne of St. Bartholomew, in her life (Bruxelles, 1708, p.
40), says that she changed the Saint's linen on the day of her death,
and was thanked by her for her carefulness. "Her soul was so
pure," says the Ven. Mother,
"that she could not bear anything that was
not clean."

Maria de Cepeda, half-sister of the
Saint. She was married to Don Martin de Guzman y Barrientos; and the
contract for the dowry was signed January 11, 1531
(Reforma de los DescalÃ§os lib. i. ch. vii.
Â§ 4).

The Augustinian Monastery of Our
Lady of Grace. It was founded in 1509 by the venerable Fra Juan of
Seville, Vicar-General of the Order (Reforma de los
DescalÃ§os lib. i. ch. vii. n. 2). There were forty nuns in the
house at this time (De la Fuente).

Some have said that the Saint at
this time intended, or wished, to be married; and Father Bouix
translates the passage thus: "une alliance
honorable pour moi." But it is more probable that the
Saint had listened only to the story of her cousin's intended
marriage; for in ch. v. Â§ 11, she says
that our Lord had always kept her from seeking to be loved
of men.

DoÃ±a Maria BrizeÃ±o, mistress of the
secular children who were educated in the monastery
(Reforma, lib. i. ch. vii. Â§ 3).

St. Matt. xx. 16: "Multi enim
sunt vocati, pauci vero electi."

Juana Suarez, in the Monastery of
the incarnation, Avila (Reforma, lib. i. ch.
vii. Â§ 7).

Maria de Cepeda, married to Don
Martin Guzman y Barrientos. They lived in Castellanos de la CaÃ±ada,
where they had considerable property; but in the later years of their
lives they were in straitened circumstances (De la
Fuente). See below, ch. xxxiv.
Â§ 24.

Don Pedro Sanchez de Cepeda. He
lived in Hortigosa, four leagues from Avila (De
la Fuente).

Antonio de Ahumada; who, according
to the most probable opinion, entered the Dominican monastery of St. Thomas, Avila. It is said that he died
before he was professed. Some said he joined the Hieronymites; but
this is not so probable (De la Fuente). Ribera, however,
says that he did enter the novitiate of the Hieronymites. but died
before he was out of it (lib. i. ch. vi.).

Juana Suarez, in the Monastery of
the Incarnation, Avila.

See Relation, vi. Â§ 3.

The nuns sent word to the father of
his child's escape, and of her desire to become a nun, but without any
expectation of obtaining his consent. He came to the monastery
forthwith, and "offered up his Isaac on Mount Carmel"
(Reforma, lib. i. ch. viii. Â§ 5).

The Saint entered the Monastery of
the Incarnation Nov. 2, 1533, and made her profession Nov. 3, 1534
(Bollandists and Bouix). Ribera says she
entered November 2, 1535; and the chronicler of the Order, relying on
the contract by which her father bound himself to the monastery, says
that she took the habit Nov. 2, 1536, and that Ribera had made
a mistake.

Her father took her from the
monastery in the autumn of 1535, according to the Bollandists, but of
1538, according to the chronicler, who adds, that she was taken to her
uncle's houseâ€”Pedro Sanchez de Cepedaâ€”in Hortigosa, and then to
Castellanos de la CaÃ±ada, to the house of her sister, DoÃ±a Maria,
where she remained till the spring, when she went to Bezadas for
her cure (Reforma, lib. i. ch. xi.
Â§ 2).

It was in 1563 that all nuns were
compelled to observe enclosure (De
la Fuente).

Ch. v.
Â§ 15.

Ch. iii.
Â§ 4.

Ch.
iii. Â§ 5.

By Fray
Francisco de Osuna, of the Order of St. Francis (Reforma,
lib. i. ch. xi. Â§ 2).

See ch.
ix. Â§Â§ 4, 7.

Ch. iv. Â§
6. The person to whom she was taken was a woman famous for
certain cures she had wrought, but whose skill proved worse than
useless to the Saint (Reforma, lib. i. ch. xi.
Â§ 2).

Schram, Theolog. Mystic., Â§ 483. "Magni doctores scholastici, si non sint spirituales,
vel omni rerum spiritualium experientia careant, non solent esse
magistri spirituales idoneiâ€”nam theologia scholastica est perfectio
intellectus; mystica, perfectio intellectus et voluntatis: unde bonus
theologus scholasticus potest esse malus theologus mysticus. In rebus
tamen difficilibus, dubiis, spiritualibus, prÃ¦stat mediocriter
spiritualem theologum consulere quam
spiritualem idiotam."

See Way of Perfection,
ch. viii. Â§ 2; but ch. v. Dalton's edition.

F. Vicente
Barron (Bouix).

See ch.
xxiii.

Â§
6.

Â§
9.

Ch. iv.
Â§ 6.

Job ii. 10: "Si
bona suscepimus de manu Dei, mala quare
non suscipiamus?"

Some of the nuns of the
Incarnation were in the house, sent thither from the monastery; and,
but for the father's disbelief in her death, would have taken her home
for burial (Ribera, lib. i. ch. iv.).

Ribera, lib. i. ch.
iv., says he heard Fra BaÃ±es, in a sermon, say that the Saint told him
she had, during these four days, seen hell in a vision. And the
chronicler says that though there was bodily illness, yet it was a
trance of the soul at the same time (vol. i. lib. i. ch. xii.
Â§ 3).

March 25, 1537.

Ch. v. Â§
17. The Saint left her monastery in 1535; and in the spring of
1536 went from her sister's house to Bezadas; and in July of that year
was brought back to her father's house in Avila, wherein she remained
till Palm Sunday, 1537, when she returned to the Monastery of the
Incarnation. She had been seized with paralysis there, and laboured
under it nearly three years, from 1536 to 1539, when she was
miraculously healed through the intercession of St. Joseph (Bolland, n. 100, 101).
The dates of the Chronicler are different from these.

Of the devotion to St. Joseph, F. Faber (The Blessed
Sacrament, bk. ii. p. 199, 3rd ed.) says that it took its rise
in the West, in a confraternity in Avignon. "Then it spread over
the church. Gerson was raised up to be its doctor and theologian, and
St. Teresa to be its Saint, and St. Francis of Sales to be its popular teacher
and missionary. The houses of Carmel were like the holy house of
Nazareth to it; and the colleges of the Jesuits, its peaceful sojourns
in dark Egypt."

Galat. ii. 20: "Vivo autem, jam non ego; vivit vero in
me Christus."

See Way of Perfection,
ch. xl.; but ch. xxvii. of
the former editions.

See Relation, i.
Â§ 18.

A.D. 1537, when the Saint was
twenty-two years old (Bouix). This passage, therefore,
must he one of the additions to the second Life; for the first was
written in 1562, twenty-five years only after the vision.

See ch.
xxvii. Â§ 3.

In the parlour of the monastery of
the Incarnation, Avila, a painting of this is preserved to this day
(De la Fuente).

Ch. vi. Â§
4.

See Inner Fortress, v.
iii. Â§ 1.

Ch. i. Â§
i.

Ch.
xix. Â§Â§ 9, 17.

See Â§ 2,
above.

See ch. xi. Â§ 23: Inner
Fortress, vi. i. Â§ 8.

Â§ 16.

See Inner Fortress,
v. iii. Â§ 1.

In 1541, when the Saint was
twenty-five years of age (Bouix).

F. Vicente Barron
(Reforma, lib. i. ch. xv.).

See ch. xxxviii. Â§ 1.

See ch. xix. Â§ 19.

The Spanish editor calls
attention to this as a proof of great laxity in those daysâ€”that a nun
like St. Teresa should be urged to
communicate as often as once in a fortnight.

See ch. xiii. Â§Â§ 7, 8.

Ch. ix.
Â§ 10.

Â§ 1,
above.

Ch.
vii. Â§ 17; ch. xix.
Â§ 8.

Ezech. xviii. 21: "Si autem impius egerit poenitentiam, . . . vita vivet,
et non morietur. Omnium iniquitatum ejus . . . non
recordabor."

See ch.
x. Â§ 2, and ch. xi.
Â§ 22.

In the year 1555
(Bouix).

See ch.
iv. Â§ 10; ch. x. Â§ 1.

See Relation, i.
Â§ 12.

See ch.
iv. Â§ 11.

Ch. ii.
Â§ 8.

In the Prologue.

Â§
1.

Ch. iv.
Â§ 11.

The Saint interrupts her history
here to enter on the difficult questions of mystical theology, and
resumes it in ch. xxiii.

Ch. ix.
Â§ 4.

Ch.
xxx. Â§Â§ 10 and 11.

See ch. xiii. Â§ 5.

F. Pedro YbaÃ±ez, of the Order of St. Dominic.

See ch. xxxi. Â§ 17.

See ch. xv. Â§ 12.

See ch. xiv. Â§ 12.

See ch. xxiv. Â§ 5.

Ch. x.
Â§ 1.

2.
Vide St. Bernard, in Cantic. Serm. 30. n. 7, ed. Ben.

Ch.
xiii. Â§ 23.

See ch. xv. Â§ 17.

Epist. 22, ad
Eustochium: "O quoties ego ipse in eremo
constitutus, et in illa vasta solitudine quÃ¦ exusta solis ardoribus
horridum monachis prÃ¦stat habitaculum putabam me Romanis interesse
deliciis. Sedebam solus. . . Horrebant sacco membra deformia. . . .
Ille igitur ego, qui ob GehennÃ¦ metum tali me carcere damnaveram,
scorpionum tantum socius et ferarum, sÃ¦pe choris intereram puellarum,
pallebant ora jejuniis, et mens desideriis Ã¦stuabat in frigido
corpore, et ante hominem sua jam carne prÃ¦mortuum sola libidinum
incendia bulliebant."

St. Matt. xx. 22: "Potestis
bibere calicem?"

St. Matt. xi. 30: "Jugum enim
meum suave est."

Â§
18.

Arte de servir a
Dios, by Rodrigue de Solis, friar of the Augustinian Order
(Bouix). Arte para servir a Dios,
by Fra. Alonso de Madrid (De la Fuente).

Ch.
xi. Â§Â§ 20, 25.

That is, he will lose the prayer
of acquired quiet, because he voluntarily abandons it before the time;
and will not attain to the prayer of infused quiet, because he
attempts to rise into it before he is called (Francis. de Sancto
Thoma, Medulla Mystica, tr. iv. ch. xi.
n. 69).

Ch. iv.
Â§ 10.

Ch.
xxxiv. Â§ 9.

Ch. x.
Â§ 1.

Ch.
xvi. Â§ 4.

"En un
credo."

Â§ 5.

Ch.
xi. Â§ 24.

Philipp. iv. 13; "Omnia possum in Eo."

Confess. x. ch. 29:
"Da quod jubes, et jube
quod vis."

St.
Matt. xiv. 30: "Videns vero ventum
validum, timuit."

Ch.
vii. Â§Â§ 27, 31.

Ch.
vii. Â§ 16.

See ch. xxxi. Â§ 7, and ch. xxxix. Â§ 14.

Ch.
xii. Â§ 3.

See St. John of the Cross, Living Flame,
pp. 267, 278â€“284, Engl. trans.

See ch. xv. Â§ 20.

Â§ 18.

Prudence, experience, and
learning; see Â§ 24.

Dan. xii. 3: "Qui autem docti fuerint, fulgebunt quasi
splendor firmamenti."

Â§ 19.

2 Cor. v. 14: "Charitas enim Christi
urget nos."

See ch. xvii. Â§ 12; Way of
Perfection, ch. liii., but xxxi. of the
old editions.

See Relation, i.
Â§ 12.

2 Cor. xi. 14: "Ipse enim Satanas transfigurat se in
angelum lucis."

See ch. x. Â§ 11. As that passage refers
probably to the monastery of the Incarnation, this must refer to that
of St. Joseph, newly founded in Avila; for
that of the Incarnation was founded a short time before the Saint was
born; and she could hardly say of it, now that she was at least in her
forty-seventh year, that it was newly founded. The house, however,
was poor; for she says, ch. xxxii. Â§
12, that the nuns occasionally quitted the monastery for a time,
because of its poverty.

See ch. xviii. Â§ 10. In the second Report
of the Rota, p. 477â€”quoted by Benedict XIV., De
Canoniz. iii. 26, n. 12, and by the Bollandists in the Acta, 1315â€”we have these words, and they throw great
light on the text: "Sunt et alli testes de visu
affirmantes quod quando beata Teresa scribebat libros, facies ejus
resplendebat." In the information taken in Granada, the
Mother Anne of the Incarnation says she saw the Saint one night, while
writing the Fortress of the Soul, with her face shining;
and Mary of St. Francis deposes to the same
effect in the informations taken in Medina (De la Fuente,
vol. ii. pp. 389, 392).

Prov. viii. 31: "DeliciÃ¦ meÃ¦ esse cum
filiis hominum."

See Way of
Perfection, ch. liii., but ch. xxxii of
the old edition.

St.
Matt. xvii. 4: "Bonum est nos
hic esse."

See ch. xvii. Â§ 6.

Ch. x.
Â§ 1.

Ch.
xiv. Â§Â§ 3, 4.

Ch. x.
Â§ 9.

Ch.
xviii. Â§ 4, and ch. xxi.
Â§ 9.

Â§ 3.

Â§ 5.

Ch.
x. Â§ 1.

St.
Luke xviii. 13: "Nolebat nec oculos ad
coelum levare."

Ch.
xii. Â§ 5.

"Firmeza en
la verdad." Francisco de St. Thoma, in his Medulla Mystica, p. 204, quoting this passage, has,
"firmeza en la voluntad." Philip a
SS. Trinitate, Theolog. Mystic. p. 354, and his
Abbreviator, Anton. a Sp. Sancto, Direct.
Mystic. tr. iv. disp. i. Â§ 11, n. 94, seem also to have
preferred "voluntad" to "verdad;" for the words they use are, "nec intellectui lux nec voluntati firmitas;"
and, "defectus lucis in intellectu, et firmitatis
in voluntate."

Ch.
xi. Â§ 16.

Ch.
xiii. Â§ 23.

St.
Matt. xvi. 24: "Tollat crucem suam et
sequatur Me."

"Fiel
temor." In the
previous editions it was filial.

Ch.
xi. Â§ 1.

See ch. xxv.

"The third degree, or third
water, of the Saint, must begin, I think, with the prayer of infused
recollection, include that of infused quiet, and end in that of
inebriation; because it is not in our power to draw this waterâ€”all we
can do is to direct the stream." (Francis. de St. Thoma, Medulla Mystica, tr. iv. ch. xii.
p. 208).

See St.
John of the Cross, Spirit.
Canticle, stanza xvii. vol. ii. p. 98,
Engl. trans.

St.
Luke xv. 9: "Convocat amicas
et vicinas."

Foundations, ch.
xxix. Â§ 9.

The Saint herself (De
la Fuente).

This was either F. YbaÃ±ez or the Inquisitor Soto, if the expression
did not occur in the first Life. F. Dom. BaÃ±es struck
out "son," and wrote "father" in its place, omitting
the words, "so humble is he" (De
la Fuente).

See Â§ 3,
above.

St.
John x. 20: "DÃ¦monium habet
et insanit."

The Saint refers to the secret
meetings of heretics in Valladolid, under the direction of a fallen
priest, the Doctor Agostino Cazalla, whose vanity led him to imitate
Luther. Some nuns in Valladolid were imprisoned, Cazalla strangled,
and his body burnt, in 1559 (De la Fuente).

Father BaÃ±es wrote here on the
margin of the Saint's MS,
"Legant prÃ¦dicatores" (De
la Fuente).

See ch. xix. Â§ 4.

Ch.
xv. Â§ 1.

See Relation, viii. Â§ 6; and
Way of Perfection, ch. liii., but ch xxxi. of
former editions. See also Concept. of the Love of
God, ch. vii.

See Relation, viii.
Â§ 17.

Ch.
xiv. Â§ 4. See also Way of Perfection, ch. liii., but
ch. xxxi. of
the old editions.

Ch.
xiv. Â§ 6.

Â§ 7.

See ch. xi. Â§ 11.

Ch.
xvi. Â§Â§ 7, 8.

Ch.
xvii. Â§ 5.

Â§ 3.

See ch. xx. Â§ 10; and Relation, viii.
Â§ 10.

See ch. xiv. Â§ 12.

See Anton. a Sp. Sancto, Director. Mystic.
tr. iv. Â§ 9, n. 72.

Thomas Ã  Jesu, De
Contemplatione Divina, lib. v. c. xiii.: "Quasi dicat: cum intellectus non possit Dei immensam
illam claritatem et incomprehensibilem plenitudinem comprehendere, hoc
ipsum est illam conspicere ac intelligere, intelligere se non posse
intellectu cognoscere: quod quidem nihil aliud est quam Deum sub
ratione incomprehensibilitatis videre
ac cognoscere."
Philip. Ã  SS. Trinitate,
Theolog. Mystic. Disc. Proem. art. iv. p. 6: "Cum ipsa S. Teresa scire vellet, quid in illa mystica
unione operaretur intellectus, respondit Christus illi, cum non
possit comprehendere quod intelligit, est non intelligere
intelligendo: tum quia prÃ¦ claritate nimia quodammodo offuscatur
intellectus, unde prÃ¦ altissima et supereminentissima Dei cognitione
videtur anima potius Deum ignorare
quam cognoscere."

Ch. x.
Â§ 1, and ch. xviii.
Â§ 16.

See Inner Fortress,
v. ch. i. Â§ 11.

See ch. xx. Â§ 2.

See ch. xvii. Â§ 3.

Ch.
vii. Â§ 17, and ch. viii.
Â§ 5.

Psalm cxviii. 137: "Thou art
just, O Lord, and Thy judgment is right."

See ch.
xxv.

See ch.
viii. Â§ 1.

Ch.
vii. Â§ 17.

Ch.
vii. Â§ 27.

Ch.
xxxi. Â§ 21.

Ch.
xx. Â§ 33, and ch. xxv.
Â§ 24.

Ch. xix.
Â§ 4.

See Â§ 16.

See Inner Fortress,
vi. ch. v.; Philippus a SS. Trinitate, Theolog. Mystic.
par. iii. tr. i, disp. iii., art. 3; "HÃ¦c oratio
raptus superior est prÃ¦cedentibus orationis gradibus, etiam oratione
unionis ordinariÃ¦, et habet effectus multoexcellentiores et multas
alias operationes."

"She says that rapture is more
excellent than union; that is, that the soul in a rapture has a
greater fruition of God, and that God takes it then more into His own
hands. That is evidently so; because in a rapture the soul loses the
use of its exterior and interior faculties. When she says that union
is the beginning, middle, and end, she means that pure union is almost
always uniform; but that there are degrees in rapture, of which some
are, as it were, the beginning, some the middle, others the end. That
is the reason why it is called by different names; some of which
denote the least, others the most, perfect form of it, as it will
appear hereafter."â€”Note in the Spanish edition of Lopez (De
la Fuente).

Anton. a Spirit.
Sancto, Direct.
Mystic. tr. 4, d. i. n. 95: "Licet
oratio raptus idem sit apud mysticos ac oratio volatus, seu
elevationis spiritus seu extasis; reipsa tamen raptus aliquid addit
super extasim; nam extasis importat simplicem excessum mentis in
seipso secundum quem aliquis extra suam cognitionem ponitur. Raptus
vero super hoc addit violentiam quandam ab
aliquo extrinseco."

The words between the dashes are
in the handwriting of the Saintâ€”not however, in the text, but on the
margin (De la Fuente).

See Inner Fortress,
vi. ch. v. "Primus effectus orationis ecstaticÃ¦
est in corpore, quod ita remanet, ac si per animam non informaretur,
infrigidatur enim calore naturali deficiente, clauduntur suaviter
oculi, et alii sensus amittuntur: contingit tamen quod corpus infirmum
in hac oratione sanitatem recuperat." Anton. a Spirit.
Sancto, Direct.
Mystic. tr. iv. d. 2, Â§ 4, n. 150.

This passage could not have been
in the first Life; for that was written before she had ever
been Prioress.

Job. iv. 15: "Inhorruerunt pili carnis meÃ¦." (See St. John of the Cross. Spiritual
Canticle, sts. 14, 15, vol. ii
p. 83, Engl. trans.)

See ch.
xxix.

See ch. xx.
Â§ 21.

Â§ 9, supra.

Â§ 10.

Psalm ci. 8: "I have
watched, and become as a sparrow alone on
the house-top."

Psalm xli. 4: "Ubi est Deus tuus?"

Galat. vi. 14: "In cruce Jesu Christi: per quem mihi mundus crucifixus
est, et ego mundo."

Â§Â§ 9 and 12.

Daniel x. 16: "In visione tua dissolutÃ¦ sunt compages meÃ¦."
See St. John of the Cross, Spiritual
Canticle, st. 14, vol. ii. p.
84, Engl. trans.; and also Relation, viii. Â§ 13, where
this is repeated.

Ch. v.
Â§ 18.

Â§ 12.

The words from "I have just
said" to "our Lord" are in the margin of the text, but in
the handwriting of the Saint (De la Fuente).

See Â§ 11.

See Relation, viii.
Â§ 8.

Ch.
xviii. Â§ 16.

Ch.
xviii. Â§ 17.

Avila.

Ch.
xxv. Â§ 18.

Â§ 9.

"Other will . . . Lord's
will." These wordsâ€”in Spanish, "Otra
voluntad, sino hacer la de nuestro SeÃ±or"â€”are not in the
handwriting of the Saint; perhaps it was Father BaÃ±es who wrote them.
The MS. is blurred, and the original
text seems to have been, "libre alvedrio ni
guerra" (De la Fuente).

St.
Vincent. Ferrer, Instruct. de Vit.
Spirit. c. xiv. p. 14: "Si dicerent
tibi aliquid quod sit contra fidem, et contra Scripturam Sacram, aut
contra bonos mores, ahhorreas earum visionem et judicia, tanquam
stultas dementias, et earum raptus, sicut
rabiamenta"â€”which word the Saint translates
by "rabiamientos."

Psalm liv. 7: "Quis dabit mihi pennas
sicut columbÃ¦?"

Job iv. 17: "Numquid homo Dei
comparatione justificabitur?"

Ch.
xx. Â§ 30.

Ch.
xx. Â§ 34.

Exod. xxiii. 15: "Non apparebis in conspectu
meo vacuus."

Apoc. ii. 23: "Dabo unicuique vestrum secundum
opera sua."

See ch. xxxii. Â§ 1.

"Farsa de esta
vida tan mal concertada."

Inner Fortress, iv.
ch. i. Â§ 11.

Rom. vii. 24: "Quis me liberabit de corpore
mortis hujus?"

Ch.
xvi. Â§ 7.

1 Cor. ii. 9: "QuÃ¦ prÃ¦paravit Deus his qui
diligunt Illum."

See Inner Fortress,
vi. 7, Â§ 4.

This opinion is supposed to be
justified by the words of St. Thomas, 3
Sent. dist. 22, qu. 3, art. 1, ad quintum. "Corporalis prÃ¦sentia Christi in duobus poterat esse
nociva. Primo, quantum ad fidem, quia videntes Eum in forma in qua
erat minor Patre, non ita de facili crederent Eum Ã¦qualem Patri, ut
dicit glossa super Joannem. Secundo, quantum ad dilectionem, quia Eum
non solum spiritualiter, sed etiam carnaliter diligeremus,
conversantes cum Ipso corporaliter, et hoc est de
imperfectione dilectionis."

St.
John xvi. 7: "Expedit vobis ut Ego vadam; si enim
non abiero, Paracletus non veniet ad vos."

This sentence is in the margin of
the original MS., not in the text, but
in the handwriting of the Saint (De
la Fuente).

"I mean by lately . . . and
visions" is in the margin of the MS., but in the handwriting of the Saint
(De la Fuente).

Ch.
xxviii. Â§ 4.

St.
Matt. iii. 17: "Hic est Filius Meus dilectus, in
quo Mihi complacui."

St. John x. 7, 9: "Ego
sum ostium."

See St.
John of the Cross, Mount
Carmel, bk. iii. ch. i. p. 212.

Ch.
xii. Â§Â§ 5, 7.

Ch.
xv. Â§ 21.

Ch.
xx. Â§ 2.

St.
Luke v. 8: "Exi a me, quia homo peccator
sum, Domine."

Ch.
xii. Â§ 6.

Ch.
xxviii.

Psalm lxxii. 22: "Et ego ad nihilum redactus sum,
et nescivi."

Isaias liii 3: "Virum dolorum, et
scientem infirmitatem."

Ch.
xi. Â§ 15.

St.
Luke xvii. 10: "Servi
inutiles sumus."

Ch.
xi. Â§ 11.

St.
Luke xiv. 8: "Non discumbas in primo
loco." See Way of Perfection, ch. xxvi. Â§ 1;
but ch. xvii.
of the old editions.

Ch.
xi. Â§ 23, ch. xviii.
Â§ 6.

Os. ii. 14: "Ducam eam in solitudinem."

St.
Matt. xix. 29: "Qui reliquerit domum, . . .
centuplum accipiet."

Ch.
xii. Â§ 5.

At the end of ch. ix. The thirteen chapters interposed
between that and thisâ€”the twenty-thirdâ€”are a treatise on
mystical theology.

She refers to Magdalene of the
Cross (Reforma de los DescalÃ§os, vol. i. lib.
i. c. xix. Â§ 2).

The college of the Society at
Avila was founded in 1555; but some of the Fathers had come thither in
1553 (De la Fuente).

Ch.
vii. Â§ 37.

Ch.
xix. Â§Â§ 7, 8.

Gaspar Daza had formed a society
of priests in Avila, and was a very laborious and holy man. It was he
who said the first Mass in the monastery of St. Joseph, founded by 5t. Teresa, whom he
survived, dying Nov. 24, 1592. He committed the direction of his
priests to F. Baltasar Alvarez (Bouix). Juan of Avila
acted much in the same way when the Jesuits settled in Avila (De
la Fuente).

Don Francisco de Salcedo. After
the death of his wife, he became a priest, and was chaplain and
confessor of the Carmelite nuns of St. Joseph. For twenty years of his married life
he attended regularly the theological lectures of the Dominicans, in
the house of St. Thomas. His death took
place Sept. 12, 1580, when he had been a priest for ten years
(St. Teresa's Letters, vol.
iv. letter 43, note 13: letter 368, ed. of De la Fuente).

DoÃ±a Mencia del Aguila (De
la Fuente, in a note on letter 10, vol. ii. p. 9, where he
corrects himself,â€”having previously called her Mencia
de Avila).

Â§ 4.

Subida del Monte
Sion, by a Franciscan friar, Bernardino de Laredo (Reforma, vol. i. lib. i. c. xix. Â§ 7).

Â§ 6.

See ch. xxv. Â§ 18.

See ch. xxviii. Â§ 18.

See Relation, vii.
Â§ 17.

See ch. iv. Â§ 6.

1 Cor. x. 13: "Fidelis autem Deus est, qui non patietur vos tentari
supra id quod potestis."

F.
Juan de Padranos, whom St. Francis de Borja
had sent in 1555, with F. Fernando Alvarez
del Aguila, to found the house of the Society in Avila (De la
Fuente). Ribera, i. 5, says he heard that F. Juan de Padranos gave in part the Exercises
of St. Ignatius to the Saint.

See Relation, i. Â§ 9.

The Saint now treated her body
with extreme severity, disciplining herself even unto blood
(Reforma, vol. i. lib. i. c. xx.
Â§ 4).

St.
Francis de Borja came to Avila, where St. Teresa lived, in 1557 (De la
Fuente). This passage must have been written after the
foundation of St. Joseph, for it was not in
the first Life, as the Saint says, ch. x.
Â§ 11, that he kept secret the names of herself and
all others.

Ch.
xxiii. Â§ 6.

See Relation, viii.
Â§ 6.

Who he was is not certainly known.
The Bollandists decline to give an opinion: but F. Bouix thinks it was F. Ferdinand Alvarez, who became her confessor
on the removal of F. Juan de Padranos, and
that it was to him she confessed till she placed herself under the
direction of F. Baltasar Alvarez, the confessor of DoÃ±a Guiomar, as it
is stated in the next paragraph,â€”unless the confessor there mentioned
was F. Ferdinand.

DoÃ±a Guiomar de Ulloa. See below,
ch. xxxii. Â§ 13.

If this confessor was F. Baltasar
Alvarez, the Saint, F. Bouix observes,
passes rapidly over the history of the year 1557, and the greater
part, perhaps, of 1558; for F. Baltasar was ordained
priest only in the latter year.

See Relation, i. Â§ 6.

Philip. a SS. Trinitate, Theolog.
Mystic. par. 2, tr. iii. disc. iv. art. v.: "Tres sunt modi divinÃ¦ locutionis; completur enim divina
locutio vel verbis successivis, vel verbis formalibus, vel verbis
substantialibus. Completur verbis successivis cum anima in semetipsa
multum collecta quosdam discursus internos de Deo vel de aliis divina
format directione; hujusmodi quippe discursus, quamvis ab ipsa sibi
formati, a Deo tamen dirigente procedunt. Completur verbis formalibus
cum anima vel in se collecta, vel aliis occupata, percipit quÃ¦dam
verba formaliter ac distincte divinitus expressa, ad quorum
formationem anima passive penitus se habet. Completur verbis
substantialibus cum anima vel in se collecta, vel etiam distracta,
percipit quÃ¦dam verba viva et efficacia, divinitus ad se directa, quÃ¦
virtutem aut substantialem effectum per ipsa significatum fortiter ac
infallibiliter causant." See also St. John of the Cross,
Ascent
of Mount Carmel, b. ii. ch. xxviii. and the
following, p. 188.

From 1555 to 1557, when the Saint
was advised by St. Francis de Borja to make
no further resistance (Bouix).

See ch. xxvii. Â§ 4.

Â§ 4.

Â§ 5.

The doctrine here laid down is not
that of the second water,â€”chs. xiv. and xv.,â€”but that of the third, ch. xvi. The Saint herself speaks doubtfully;
and as she had but little time for writing, she could not correct nor
read again what she had written (De
la Fuente).

Â§ 6.

Â§ 2.

Ch.
vii. Â§ 12.

Ch.
xxviii. Â§ 6, ch. xxx.
Â§ 10.

Ch.
vii. Â§ 11.

Ch.
iv. Â§ 6, ch. v. Â§ 14.

It was the church of the
Jesuits (Bouix).

See Inner Fortress,
vi. 3, Â§ 5.

St.
Matt. viii. 26; "Imperavit ventis et mari, et facta
est tranquillitas magna."

Ch.
xxxi. Â§ 2.

St.
John of the Cross, Spiritual
Canticle, st. 24, p. 128,
Eng. trans.

St.
Matt. x. 26, 28; "Ne ergo timueritis eos, . . .
sed potius timete Eum."

St.
John viii. 44: "Mendax est, et
pater ejus."

Ch.
xxv. Â§ 26.

Ch.
xv. Â§ 6.

Ch.
xxxiii.; the foundation of the house of St. Joseph.

Ch.
xxv. Â§ 23.

The Bollandists, n. 185, attribute
some of the severity with which her confessor treated the Saint to the
spirit of desolation with which he was then tried himself; and, in
proof of it, refer to the account which F. Baltasar Alvarez gave of
his own prayer to the General of the Society.

See Relation, vii.
Â§ 7.

St.
John of the Cross, Mount Carmel, bk. ii. ch. 22,
Â§ 14.

The visions of the Saint began in
1558 (De la Fuente) or, according to Father Bouix,
in 1559.

St.
Luke xvi. 28: "Ne et ipsi veniant in hunc
locum tormentorum."

Ch.
xxv. Â§ 20.

See ch. xxviii. Â§ 5, and ch. xxix. Â§ 1. The vision took place, it
seems, on the 29th June. See ch. xxix.
Â§ 6.

See ch.
vii. Â§ 12.

See Anton. a Spiritu Sancto,
Direct.
Mystic. tr. iii. disp. v. Â§ 3.

See Inner Fortress,
vi. 8, Â§ 3.

Â§ 17, infra.

See Relation, vii.
Â§ 26.

Inner Fortress, vi.
8, Â§ 3.

Ch.
xxv. Â§ 1.

Cant. vi. 4: "Averte oculos tuos a me, quia ipsi me avolare
fecerunt." St. John of the
Cross, Mount Carmel, bk. ii. ch. xxix. n. 6,
Engl. trans.

Acts x. 34: "Non est personarum
acceptor Deus."

St.
Luke xxiii. 28: "FiliÃ¦ Jerusalem, nolite flere
super Me, sed super vos ipsas flete."

St.
Matt. xxvii. 32: "Hunc angariaverunt ut tolleret
crucem Ejus."

St.
John x. 20: "DÃ¦monium habet et insanit: quid
Eum auditis?"

Sap. v. 4: "Nos insensati vitam illorum
Ã¦stimabamus insaniam."

18th Oct. 1562. As the Saint
finished the first relation of her life in June, 1562, this is one of
the additions subsequently made.

Ch.
xiv. Â§ 7.

Ch.
xxvi. Â§ 3, ch. xxxii.
Â§ 16.

Psalm cxxi. The words in the
MS. are: "Letatun sun yn is que dita sun miqui" (De
la Fuente).

See ch. xxx. Â§ 2.

Ch.
xxvii. Â§ 3.

Philipp. a SS. Trinitate, Theolog.
Mystic. par. 2, tr. 3, disc. iv., art. 8: "Quamvis in principio
visiones a dÃ¦mone fictÃ¦ aliquam habeant pacem ac dulcedinem, in fine
tamen confusionum et amaritudinem in anima relinquunt; cujus
contrarium est in divinis visionibus, quÃ¦ sÃ¦pe turbant in principio,
sed semper in fine pacem animÃ¦ relinquunt." St. John of
the Cross, Spiritual
Canticle, st. 14, p. 84:
"In the spiritual passage from the sleep of natural ignorance to
the wakefulness of the supernatural understanding, which is the
beginning of trance or ecstasy, the spiritual vision then revealed
makes the soul fear and tremble."

See ch. xxix. Â§ 4.

"The holy Mother, Teresa of
Jesus, had these imaginary visions for many years, seeing our Lord
continually present before her in great beauty, risen from the dead,
with His wounds and the crown of thorns. She had a picture made of
Him, which she gave to me, and which I gave to Don Fernando de Toledo,
Duke of Alva" (Jerome Gratian, Union del
Alma, cap. 5.
Madrid, 1616).

Anton. a Sp.
Sancto, Direct.
Mystic. tr. iii. disp. 5, Â§ I, n. 315: "Visio corporea est infima, visio imaginaria est media,
visio intellectualis est suprema." N. 322: "Apparitio
visibilis, cum sit omnium infima, est magis exposita illusioni
diaboli, nisi forte huic visioni corporali visio intellectualis
adjungatur, ut in apparitione S. Gabrielis archangeli facta
BeatÃ¦ Virgini."

See ch. xxx. Â§ 18.

Ch.
xxv. Â§ 18.

Ch.
xxx. Â§Â§ 9, 10. See St. John of the
Cross, Obscure
Night, bk. ii. ch. 7.

Ch.
xxvii. Â§ 3.

Ch.
xxv. Â§ 8.

See Â§ 2.

Â§ 7, supra.

See ch. xxiii. Â§ 14.

Ch.
xxiv. Â§ 5.

There were in Spain, and
elsewhere, many women who were hypocrites, or deluded. Among others
was the prioress of Lisbon, afterwards notorious, who deceived Luis of
Granada (De la Fuente).

Inner Fortress, vi.
1, Â§ 4.

Ch.
xxvi. Â§ 5; Inner Fortress, vi. 9, Â§ 7.

See ch. xxv. Â§ 18.

2 Paralip. xx. 12: "Sed cum ignoremus quid agere debeamus, hoc solum
habemus residui, ut oculos nostros dirigamus
ad Te."

See ch. xxx. Â§ 6.

Ch.
xl.

Baltasar Alvarez was
father-minister of the house of St. Giles,
Avila, in whose absence she had recourse to another father of that
house (Ribera, i. ch. 6).

Y diese
higas. "Higa es una manera de menosprecio
que hacemos cerrando el puÃ±o, y mostrando el dedo pulgar por entre el
dedo indice, y el medio" (Cobarruvias,
in voce).

See Book of the
Foundations, ch. viii. Â§ 3, where the Saint refers to this
advice, and to the better advice given her later by F. Dominic BaÃ±es,
one of her confessors. See also Inner Fortress, vi. 9,
Â§ 7.

See ch. xxvii. Â§ 3, and ch. xxviii. Â§ 4.

Ch.
xxv. Â§ 18.

The cross was made of ebony
(Ribera). It is not known where that cross is now. The
Saint gave it to her sister, DoÃ±a Juana de Ahumada, who begged it of
her. Some say that the Carmelites of Madrid possess it; and others,
those of Valladolid (De la Fuente).

See Relation, i. Â§ 3.

Ch.
xx. Â§ 11.

Inner Fortress, vi.
11, Â§ 2; St. John of the Cross, Spiritual
Canticle, st. 1, p. 22,
Engl. trans.

Â§ 10.

Psalm xli. 2: "As the
longing of the hart for the fountains of waters, so is the longing of
my soul for Thee, O my God."

Ch.
xxvii. Â§ 3.

In the MS. of the Saint preserved in the Escurial,
the word is "cherubines;" but all the editors before Don
Vicente de la Fuente have adopted the suggestion, in the margin, of
BaÃ±es, who preferred "seraphim." F. Bouix, in his translation, corrected the
mistake; but, with his usual modesty, did not call the reader's
attention to it.

See Relation, viii.
Â§ 16.

"The most probable opinion
is, that the piercing of the heart of the Saint took place in 1559.
The hymn which she composed on that occasion was discovered in Seville
in 1700 ("En las internas entraÃ±as").
On the high altar of the Carmelite church in Alba de Tormes, the heart
of the Saint thus pierced is to be seen; and I have seen it myself
more than once" (De la Fuente).

Brev. Rom.
in fest. S. TeresiÃ¦, Oct. 15, Lect. v.: "Tanto autem divini amoris incendio cor ejus
conflagravit, ut merito viderit Angelum ignito jaculo sibi prÃ¦cordia
transverberantem." The Carmelites keep the feast of this
piercing of the Saint's heart on the 27th of August.

Ch.
xx. Â§ 11.

Ch.
xxvii. Â§Â§ 17, 18, 19.

Hoja de
lata, "cierta hoja de
hierro muy delgada" (Cobarruvias, Tesoro, in voce).

Ch.
xxiv. Â§ 5. DoÃ±a Guiomar de Ulloa.

Ch.
xxvi. Â§ 5.

Ch.
vii. Â§ 12.

See ch. xxviii. Â§ 24.

Ch.
xxiii. Â§ 7.

A "custody" is a division
of the province, in the Order of St. Francis, comprising a certain number of
convents.

Â§ 10.

Job i.

See ch. xxxii. Â§ 1, &c.

See ch. xxviii. Â§ 6.

See Way of
Perfection, ch. lxi. Â§ 2; but ch. xxxiv. Â§ 8 of the
earlier editions.

Ch.
xx. Â§ 21, ch. xxv. Â§ 22, ch. xxvi. Â§ 3.

"Un
Credo."

Ch.
xxix. Â§ 11.

St.
John iv. 5â€“42: the Gospel of Friday after the Third
Sunday in Lent, where the words are, "hanc aquam."

"Lord, give me this
water" (St. John iv. 15). See ch. i. Â§ 6; and Way of
Perfection, ch. xxix. Â§ 5; ch. xix. Â§ 5 of the
earlier editions.

Ch.
xiv. Â§ 12.

2 Cor. ii. 11: "Non enim ignoramus
cogitationes ejus."

Ch.
xxvii. Â§ 4.

See Inner Fortress,
vi. ch. iv. Â§ 12.

Way of Perfection,
ch. lxv. Â§ 2; but ch. xxxvi. of the
previous editions.

See ch. x. Â§ 10.

Ch.
xiii. Â§ 3.

Ch.
xx. Â§ 38.

Ch.
xxx. Â§ 25.

Don Vicente de la Fuente thinks
the first "Life" ended here; that which follows was written
under obedience to her confessor, F. Garcia of Toledo, and after the
foundation of the monastery of St. Joseph, Avila.

See ch. v. Â§ 14, ch.
vi. Â§ 1.

Ch.
xxxi. Â§ 3.

In 1558 (De
la Fuente).

This was said by Maria de Ocampo,
niece of St. Teresa, then living in the
monastery of the Incarnation, but not a religious; afterwards Maria
Bautista, Prioress of the Carmelites at Valladolid
(Ribera, i. 7).

Ch.
xxiv. Â§ 5. DoÃ±a Guiomar de Ulloa.

The Provincial of the Carmelites:
F. Angel de Salasar (De la Fuente).

F. Pedro IbaÃ±ez (De
la Fuente).

Ch.
xxxiii. Â§ 8.

Francis de Salcedo.

Ch.
xxiii. Â§ 6.

Gaspar Daza. See ch. xxiii. Â§ 6.

Ch.
xxi. Â§ 6, ch. xxix. Â§Â§
10, 11.

Pedro IbaÃ±ez. See ch. xxxviii. Â§ 15.

Dionisio Vasquez. Of him the
Bollandists say that he was very austere and harsh to his subjects,
notwithstanding his great learning: "homini
egregie docto ac rebus gestis claro, sed in subditos, ut ex historia
Societatis Jesu liquet, valde immiti" (n. 309).

Gaspar de Salazar was made rector
of the house in Avila in 1561, therein succeeding Vasquez
(Bollandists, ibid.).

St.
Teresa was commanded by our Lord to ask Father Baltasar Alvarez to
make a meditation on Psalm xci. 6: "Quam
magnificata sunt opera Tua." The Saint obeyed, and the
meditation was made. From that moment, as F. Alvarez afterwards told Father de Ribera
(Life of St. Teresa, i. ch.
vii.), there was no further hesitation on the part of the
Saint's confessor.

Juana de Ahumada, wife of Juan
de Ovalle.

The money was a present from her
brother, Don Lorenzo de Cepeda; and the Saint acknowledges the receipt
of it, and confesses the use made of it, in a letter to her brother,
written in Avila, Dec. 31, 1561 (De
la Fuente).

One day, she went with her
sisterâ€”she was staying in her houseâ€”to hear a sermon in the church
of St. Thomas. The zealous preacher
denounced visions and revelations; and his observations were so much
to the point, that there was no need of his saying that they were
directed against St. Teresa, who was
present. Her sister was greatly hurt, and persuaded the Saint to
return to the monastery at once (Reforma, i.
ch. xlii. Â§ 1).

St.
Luke ix. 58: "Filius autem hominis non habet ubi
caput reclinet."

Pius IV., on Dec. 5, 1562,
(Bouix). See ch. xxxix.
Â§ 19.

Ch.
xxxii. Â§ 14.

See ch. xxvii. Â§ 7.

"Nuestro
SeÃ±or," "our Lord," though inserted in the printed
editions after the word "God," is not in the MS., according to Don V. de la Fuente.

Don Alvaro de Mendoza, Bishop of Avila, afterwards
of Palencia.

See ch. xxxvi. Â§ 15; Way of
Perfection, ch. v. Â§ 10; Foundations, ch. xxxi.
Â§ 1.

DoÃ±a Luisa de la Cerda, sister of
the Duke of Medina-Coeli, was now the widow of Arias Pardo, Marshal of
Castille, Lord of Malagon and Paracuellos. Don Arias was nephew
of Cardinal Tabera, Archbishop of Toledo (De
la Fuente).

F. Vicente Barron, Dominican (see
ch. v. Â§ 8), according to F. Bouix, on the authority of Ribera and Yepez;
but the Carmelite Father, Fr. Antonio of St. Joseph, in his note on the first Fragment
(Letters, vol. iv. p. 408), says that it was Fr. Garcia
of Toledo, brother of Don Fernando, Duke of Alva; and Don Vicente de
la Fuente thinks the opinion of Fr. Antonio the
more probable.

Pedro IbaÃ±ez
(Bouix).

Ch.
xxxiii. Â§ 11.

Father Bouix says that here the
word "confiar," "trust," in the
printed text, has been substituted by some one for the words "estar cierta," "be certain," which
he found in the MS. But Don Vicente
de la Fuente retains the old reading "confiar," and makes no observation on the
alleged discrepancy between the MS. and the printed text. The observation
of F. Bouix, however, is more important,
and deserves credit,â€”for Don Vicente may have failed, through mere
inadvertence, to see what F. Bouix saw;
and it is also to be remembered that Don Vicente does not say that the
MS. on this point has been so closely
inspected as to throw any doubt on the positive testimony of F. Bouix. Six years after this note was written
Don Vicente published a facsimile by photography of the original text
in the handwriting of the Saint, preserved in the Escurial. The words
are not "confiar," but "estar cierta."

Ch.
xxxiii. Â§ 12.

Ch.
xiv. Â§ 10.

1 Thess. v. 19: "Spiritum nolite extinguere."

St.
Matt. xix. 26: "Apud Deum autem omnia
possibilia sunt."

F. Gaspar
de Salazar.

Ch.
xxvi. Â§ 3.

Ch.
xxx. Â§ 3. DoÃ±a Guiomar de Ulloa.

Don Martin de Guzman y
Barrientos, husband of Maria de Cepeda, the
Saint's sister.

DoÃ±a Luisa de
la Cerda.

Maria of Jesus was the daughter of
a Reporter of Causes in the Chancery of Granada; but his name and that
of his wife are not known. Maria married, but became a widow soon
afterwards. She then became a novice in the Carmelite monastery in
Granada, and during her noviciate had revelations, like those of St. Teresa, about a reform of the Order. Her
confessor made light of her revelations, and she then referred them to
F. Gaspar de Salazar, a confessor of St. Teresa, who was then in Granada. He approved
of them, and Maria left the noviciate, and went to Rome with two holy
women of the Order of St. Francis. The
three made the journey on foot, and, moreover, barefooted. Pope Pius
IV. heard her prayer, and, looking at her torn and bleeding feet, said
to her, "Woman of strong courage, let it be as thou wilt."
She returned to Granada, but both the Carmelites and the city refused
her permission to found her house there, and some went so far as to
threaten to have her publicly whipped. DoÃ±a Leonor de MascareÃ±as gave
her a house in Alcala de Henares, of which she took possession Sept.
11, 1562; but the house was formally constituted July 23, 1563, and
subjected to the Bishop ten days after
(Reforma, i. c. 59; and Don
Vicente, vol. i. p. 255). The latter says that the Chronicler
is in error when he asserts that this monastery of Maria of Jesus
was endowed.

The sixth chapter of the rule is:
"Nullus fratrum sibi aliquid proprium, esse dicat,
sed sint vobis omnia communia."

See ch. xxxii. Â§ 13.

The Constitutions which the Saint
read in the Monastery of the Incarnation must have been the
Constitutions grounded on the Mitigated Rule which was sanctioned by
Eugenius IV. (Romani Pontificis,
A.D. 1432).

See Relation, i.
Â§ 10.

F. Pedro IbaÃ±ez.

Ch.
xi. Â§ 3.

F. Pedro IbaÃ±ez.

The house of DoÃ±a Luisa,
in Toledo.

The monastery of the
Incarnation, Avila.

2 Cor. xii. 9: "Virtus in
infirmitate perficitur."

See Way of
Perfection, ch. xxii.; but ch. xiii. ed. Doblado.

See Foundations,
ch. I, Â§ 1.

St.
Matt. xix. 29: "Et omnis qui reliquerit
domum . . . propter nomen Meum, centuplum accipiet, et vitam
Ã¦ternam possidebit."

When the workmen were busy with
the building, a nephew of the Saint, the child of her sister and Don
Juan de Ovalle, was struck by some falling stones and killed. The
workmen took the child to his mother: and the Saint, then in the house
of DoÃ±a Guiomar de Ulloa, was sent for. DoÃ±a Guiomar took the dead
boy into her arms, gave him to the Saint, saying that it was a
grievous blow to the father and mother, and that she must obtain his
life from God. The Saint took the body, and, laying it in her lap,
ordered those around her to cease their lamentations, of whom her
sister was naturally the loudest, and be silent. Then, covering her
face and her body with her veil, she prayed to God, and God gave the
child his life again. The little boy soon after ran up to his aunt
and thanked her for what she had done. In after years the child used
to say to the Saint that, as she had deprived him of the bliss of
heaven by bringing him back to life, she was bound to see that he did
not suffer loss. Don Gonzalo died three years after St. Teresa, when he was twenty-eight years of age
(Reforma, i. c. 42, Â§ 2).

Psalm xciii. 20: "Qui fingis laborem in prÃ¦cepto."

Toledo.

Avila. In the beginning of
June, 1562.

See ch. xxxiv. Â§ 2. The Brief was dated
Feb. 7, 1562, the third year of Pius IV. (De
la Fuente).

The Brief was addressed to DoÃ±a
Aldonza de Guzman, and to DoÃ±a Guiomar de Ulloa,
her daughter.

Don Alvaro de Mendoza (De
la Fuente).

Don Francisco
de Salcedo.

St.
Peter of Alcantara. "Truly this is the house of St. Joseph," were the Saint's words when he
saw the rising monastery; "for I see it is the little hospice of
Bethlehem" (De la Fuente).

In less than three months,
perhaps; for St. Peter died in the
sixty-third year of his age, Oct. 18, 1562, and in less than
eight weeks after the foundation of the monastery of St. Joseph.

Don Juan de Ovalle.

When he saw that the Saint had
made all her arrangements, he knew the meaning of his illness, and
said to her, "It is not necessary I should be ill any longer"
(Ribera, i. c. 8).

DoÃ±a Guiomar de Ulloa was now in
her native place, Ciudad Toro.

The Mass was said by Gaspar
Daza. See infra, Â§ 18;
Reforma, i. c. xlvi. Â§ 3.

The bell which the Saint had
provided for the convent weighed less than three pounds, and remained
in the monastery for a hundred years, till it was sent, by order of
the General, to the monastery of Pastrana, where the general chapters
were held. There the friars assembled at the sound of the bell, which
rang for the first Mass of the Carmelite Reform
(Reforma, i. c. xlvi. Â§ 1).

They were DoÃ±a Ines and DoÃ±a Ana
de Tapia, cousins of the Saint. There were present also Don Gonzalo
de Aranda, Don Francisco Salcedo, Julian of Avila, priest; DoÃ±a Juana
de Ahumada, the Saint's sister; with her husband, Juan de Ovalle. The
Saint herself retained her own habit, making no change, because she
had not the permission of her superiors
(Reforma, i. c. xlvi. Â§ 2).

Ch.
xxxiii. Â§ 13.

Ch.
xxxiii. Â§ 3.

The first of these was Antonia
de Henao, a penitent of St. Peter of
Alcantara, and who wished to enter a religious house far away from
Avila, her home. St. Peter kept her for
St. Teresa. She was called from this day
forth Antonia of the Holy Ghost. The second was Maria de la Paz,
brought up by DoÃ±a Guiomar de Ulloa. Her name was Maria of the Cross.
The third was Ursola de los Santos. She retained her family name as
Ursola of the Saints. It was Gaspar Daza who brought her to the
Saint. The fourth was Maria de Avila, sister of Julian the priest,
and she was called Mary of St. Joseph. It
was at this house, too, that the Saint herself exchanged her ordinary
designation of DoÃ±a Teresa de Ahumada for Teresa of Jesus
(Reforma, i. c. xlvi. Â§ 2).

See Foundations,
ch. ii. Â§ 1, and ch. xxxi, Â§ 1.

Ch.
xxxiii. Â§Â§ 1, 2.

Of the Incarnation.

F. Domingo BaÃ±es, the great
commentator on St. Thomas. On the margin
of the MS., BaÃ±es has with his own
hand written: "This was at the end of August, 1562. I was
present, and gave this opinion. I am writing this in May" (the
day of the month is not legible) "1575, and the mother has now
founded nine monasteries en gran religion"
(De la Fuente). At this time BaÃ±es did not know, and had
never seen, the Saint; he undertook her defence simply because he saw
that her intentions were good, and the means she made use of for
founding the monastery lawful, seeing that she had received the
commandment to do so from the Pope. BaÃ±es testifies thus in the
depositions made in Salamanca in 1591 in the Saint's process. See
vol. ii. p. 376 of Don Vicente's edition.

See Ch. xxxix. Â§ 25.

Gonzalo de Aranda (De
la Fuente).

Don Francisco de
Salcedo (ibid.).

Ch.
xxiii. Â§ 6; Gaspar Daza (ibid.).

He died Oct.
18, 1562.

Ch.
xxvii. Â§ 21.

"El Padre
Presentado, Dominico. Presentado en algunas Religiones es cierto
titulo de grado que es respeto del Maestro como Licenciado"
(Cobarruvias, in voce Presente). The
father was Fra Pedro IbaÃ±ez. See ch.
xxxviii. Â§ 15.

From the monastery of the
Incarnation. These were Ana of St. John,
Ana of All the Angels, Maria Isabel, and Isabel of St. Paul. St. Teresa
was a simple nun, living under obedience to the prioress of St. Joseph, Ana of St. John, and intended so to remain. But the
nuns applied to the Bishop of Avila and to the Provincial of the
Order, who, listening to the complaints of the sisters, compelled the
Saint to be their prioress. See Reforma, i. c.
xlix. Â§ 4.

Mid-Lent of 1563.

See Way of
Perfection, ch. ii.

"Jejunium
singulis diebus, exceptis Dominicis, observetis a Festo Exaltationis
SanctÃ¦ Crucis usque ad diem DominicÃ¦ Resurrectionis, nisi infirmitas
vel debilitas corporis, aut alia justa causa, jejunium solvi suadeat;
quia necessitas non habet legem. Ab esu carnium abstineatis, nisi pro
infirmitatis aut debilitatis remedio sint sumantur." That
is the tenth section of the rule.

See ch. xxxv. Â§ 1. Maria of Jesus had
founded her house in Alcala de Henares; but the austerities practised
in it, and the absence of the religious mitigations which long
experience had introduced, were too much for the fervent nuns there
assembled. Maria of Jesus begged DoÃ±a Leonor de MascareÃ±as to
persuade St. Teresa to come to Alcala. The
Saint went to the monastery, and was received there with joy, and even
entreated to take the house under her own government
(Reforma, ii. c. x. Â§Â§ 3, 4).

The Saint, having interrupted her
account of her interior life in order to give the history of the
foundation of the monastery of St. Joseph,
Avila,â€”the first house of the Reformed Carmelites,â€”here resumes that
account broken off at the end of Â§ 10 of
ch. xxxii.

Ephes. i. 14: "Pignus hÃ¦reditatis nostrÃ¦."

St.
John iii. 34: "Non enim ad mensuram dat
Deus spiritum."

Ch.
xxviii. Â§Â§ 1â€“5.

See ch. xl. Â§ 24; Way of
Perfection, ch. vii. Â§ 1; but ch. iv. of the
previous editions.

See ch. xx. Â§ 14.

See ch. xxx. Â§ 19.

See ch. xxx. Â§Â§ 18, 25.

Ch.
xxxiv. DoÃ±a Luisa de la Cerda, at Toledo.

Ch. iv.
Â§ 6.

1 St.
Peter ii. 11: "Advenas
et peregrinos."

Philipp. iii. 20: "Nostra autem conversatio in
coelis est."

The Life of Christ,
by Ludolf of Saxony.

F. Pedro IbaÃ±ez. See ch. xxxiii. Â§ 5, ch. xxxvi. Â§ 23. "This father died Prior of Trianos," is
written on the margin of the MS. by
F. BaÃ±es (De la Fuente).

St.
Joseph, Avila, where St. Teresa was living
at this time.

See below, Â§ 41.

F.
Gaspar de Salazar: see ch. xxxiii. Â§
9, ch. xxxiv. Â§ 2. It appears
from the 179th letter of the Saint (lett. 20, vol. i. of the Doblado
edition) that F. Salazar was reported to
his Provincial, F. Juan Suarez, as having
desire to quit the Society for the Carmelite Order.

2 Cor. xii. 2: "Sive in corpore nescio, sive extra
corpus nescio."

See ch.
xxviii.

Job iv. 15: "Inhorruerunt pili carnis meÃ¦."

The biographers of the Saint say
that she often found, on returning from an ecstasy, certain passages
written, but not by herself; this seems to be alluded to here
(De la Fuente).

Â§ 22.

St.
John of the Cross, Ascent
of Mount Carmel, bk. ii. ch. xxvi. vol. i.
p. 183.

See ch.
xxvii.

Ch.
xxx. Â§ 9.

Â§ 34.

Â§ 15. Fr.
Pedro IbaÃ±ez.

Ch.
xxxiii. Â§ 10. F. Gaspar de Salazar.

3 Kings xix. 12: "Sibilus aurÃ¦ tenuis."

See St.
John of the Cross, Ascent
of Mount Carmel, bk. iii. ch. i, p. 210).

Ch.
xxxiv. Â§ 1.

St.
John iii. 34: "Non enim ad mensuram dat
Deus spiritum."

See ch. xxxiii. Â§ 15.

St.
Matt. xx. 9â€“14: "Volo autem et huic novissimo dare
sicut et tibi."

Ch.
xiv. Â§ 12.

The Saint had this vision when she
was in the house of DoÃ±a Luisa de la Cerda in Toledo, and it was
fulfilled in the opposition she met with in the foundation of St. Joseph of Avila. See ch. xxxvi. Â§ 18.

2 Paralip. xx. 12: "Hoc solum habemus residui, ut oculos nostros dirigamus
ad Te."

Ch.
xx. Â§ 4.

Ch.
xxix. Â§ 16.

Ch.
xxix. Â§ 13.

Â§ 28.

See ch. xxviii. Â§Â§ 19, 20.

Commonly called the Creed of
St. Athanasius.

Ch.
xxxii. Â§ 1.

Ch.
xxviii. Â§ 14.

St.
Matt. v. 18: "Iota unum aut
unus apex non prÃ¦teribit a lege."

Ch. iv.
Â§ 10.

"Ecce quantum
spatiatus sum in memoria mea quÃ¦rens Te, Domine; et non Te inveni
extra eam. . . . Ex quo didici Te, manes in memoria mea, et illic Te
invenio cum reminiscor Tui et delector in Te"
(Confess.
x. 24). See Inner Fortress, Sixth Mansion,
ch. iv.

Ch.
xx. Â§ 26.

Ch.
xxv. Â§ 18, ch. xxvi. Â§ 4. See
St. John of the Cross, Mount
Carmel, bk. ii. ch. xxii.

Â§ 8.

Yepez says that the Order here
spoken of is the Carmelite, and Ribera understands the Saint to refer
to that of St. Dominic. The Bollandists,
n. 1638â€“1646, on the whole, prefer the authority of Ribera to that of
Yepez and give good reasons for their preference, setting aside as
insufficient the testimony of Fray Luis of the
Assumption, who says he heard himself from the Venerable Anne of St. Bartholomew that the Order in question is the
Order of our Lady of Mount Carmel. Don Vicente, the Spanish editor,
rejects the opinion of Ribera, on the ground that it could not have
been truly said of the Dominicans in the sixteenth century that the
Order was in "some degree fallen," for it was in a most
flourishing state. He therefore was inclined to believe that the
Saint referred to the Augustinians or to the Franciscans. But, after
he had printed this part of his book, he discovered among the MSS. in the public library of Madrid a
letter of Anne of St. Bartholomew,
addressed to Fray Luis of the Assumption, in
which the saintly companion of St. Teresa
says that the "Order was ours." Don Vicente has published the
letter in the Appendix, p. 566.

Job xiv. 2: "Nunquam in eodem
statu permanet."

See ch. xxxvii. Â§Â§ 4, 6.

See ch. vii. Â§ 18.

Ch.
xxx. Â§ 10.

Ch.
xxxi. Â§Â§ 16, 17.

Ch.
xxviii. Â§ 6.

See ch. xiv. Â§ 12.

This letter, which seems to have
accompanied the "Life," is printed among the other letters of
the Saint, and is addressed to her confessor, the Dominican friar,
Pedro IbaÃ±ez. It is the fifteenth letter in the first volume of the
edition of Madrid; but it is not dated there.

Juan de Avila, commonly called
the Apostle of Andalusia.

I.e. of the MS. See p. 337 of this translation.

Fra Anton. a Sancto Joseph, in his notes on this
Relation, usually published among the letters of the Saint, ed.
Doblado, vol. ii. letter 11, says it was written for St. Peter of Alcantara when he came to Avila in
1560, at the time when the Saint was so severely tried by her
confessors and the others who examined her spirit, and were convinced
that her prayer was a delusion of Satan: see the Life, ch. xxv. Â§ 18. The
following notes were discovered among the papers of the Saint in the
monastery of the Incarnation, and are supposed to refer to this
Relation. The Chronicler of the Order, Fra Francis a Sancta Maria, is
inclined to the belief that they were written by St. Peter of Alcantara, to whom the Relation is
addressed, and the more so because Ribera does not claim them for any
member of the Society, notwithstanding the reference to them in Â§Â§ 22, 28.
"1. The end God has in view is the drawing a
soul to himself; that of the devil is the withdrawing it from God.
Our Lord never does anything whereby anyone may be separated from Him,
and the devil does nothing whereby any one may be made to draw near
unto God. All the visions and the other operations in the soul of
this person draw her nearer unto God, and make her more humble
and obedient.
"2. It is the teaching of St.
Thomas that an angel of light may be recognised by the peace and
quietness he leaves in the soul. She is never visited in this way,
but she afterwards abides in peace and joy; so much so, that all the
pleasures of earth together are not comparable to one of
these visitations.
"3. She never commits a fault, nor falls into an
imperfection, without being instantly rebuked by Him who speaks
interiorly to her.
"4. She has never prayed for nor wished for them: all
she wishes for is to do the will of God our Lord in
all things.
"5. Everything herein is consistent with the Scriptures
and the teaching note continues, p. 404. of the Church, and most
true, according to the most rigorous principles of
scholastic theology.
"6. This soul is most pure and sincere, with the most
fervent desires of being pleasing unto God, and of trampling on every
earthly thing.
"7. She has been told that whatever she shall ask of
God, being good, she shall have. She has asked much, and things not
convenient to put on paper lest it should be wearisome; all of which
our Lord has granted.
"8. When these operations are from God, they are always
directed to the good of the recipient, to that of the community, or of
some other. That she has profited by them she knows by experience,
and she knows it, too, of other persons also.
"9. No one converses with her, if he be not in evil
dispositions, who is not moved thereby to devotion, even though she
says nothing about it.
"10. She is growing daily in the perfection of virtues,
and learns by these things the way of a higher perfection. And thus,
during the whole time in which she had visions, she was making
progress, according to the doctrine of St. Thomas.
"11. The spirit that speaks to her soul never tells her
anything in the way of news, or what is unbecoming, but only that
which tends to edification.
"12. She has been told of some persons that they were
full of devils: but this was for the purpose of enabling her to
understand the state of a soul which has sinned mortally against
our Lord.
"13. The devil's method is, when he attempts to deceive
a soul, to advise that soul never to speak of what he says to it; but
the spirit that speaks to this soul warns her to be open with learned
men, servants of our Lord, and that the devil may deceive her if she
should conceal anything through shame.
"14. So great is the progress of her soul in this way,
and the edification she ministers in the good example given, that more
than forty nuns in her monastery practise
great recollection.
"15. These supernatural things occur after long praying,
when she is absorbed in God, on fire with His love, or
at Communion.
"16. They kindle in her a most earnest desire to be on
the right road, and to escape the delusions of Satan.
"17. They are in her the cause of the deepest humility;
she understands that what she receives comes to her from the hand of
our Lord, and how little worth she is herself.
"18. When they are withheld, anything that occurs is
wont to pain and distress her; but when she is in this state, she
remembers nothing; all she is conscious of is a great longing for
suffering, and so great is it that she is amazed at it.
"19. They are to her sources of joy and consolation in
her troubles, when people speak ill of her, and in her
infirmitiesâ€”and she has fearful pains about the heart, sicknesses,
and many other afflictions, all of which leave her when she has
these visions.
"20. With all this, she undergoes great penances,
fasting, the discipline, and mortifications.
"21. All that on earth may give her any pleasure, and
her trials, which are many, she bears with equal tranquillity of
mind, without losing the peace and quiet of her soul.
"22. Her resolution never to offend our Lord is so
earnest that she has made a vow never to leave undone what she knows
herself, or is told by those who understand the matter better, to be
the more perfect. And though she holds the members of the Society to
be saints, and believes that our Lord note continues, p. 405. made
use of them to bestow on her graces so great, she told me that, if she
knew it would be more perfect to have nothing more to do with them,
she would never speak to them again, nor see them, notwithstanding the
fact that it was through them that her mind had been quieted and
directed in these things.
"23. The sweetnesses she commonly receives, her sense of
God, her languishing with love, are certainly marvellous, and through
these she is wont to be enraptured the whole day long.
"24. She frequently falls into a trance when she hears
God spoken of with devotion and earnestness, and cannot resist the
rapture, do what she can; and in that state her appearance is such
that she excites very great devotion.
"25. She cannot bear to be directed by any one who will
not tell her of her faults, and rebuke her; all that she accepts with
great humility.
"26. Moreover, she cannot endure people who are in a
state of perfection, if they do not labour to become perfect,
according to the spirit of their rule.
"27. She is most detached from her kindred, has no
desire to converse with people, and loves solitude. She has a great
devotion to the saints, and on their feasts, and on the days on which
the Church celebrates the mysteries of the faith, is filled with most
fervent affections for our Lord.
"28. If all the members of the Society, and all the
servants of God upon earth, tell her that her state is an effect of
the operations of Satan, or were to say so, she is in fear and
trembling before the visions occur; but as soon as she is in prayer,
and recollected, she cannot be persuaded, were they to tear her into a
thousand pieces, that it is any other than God who is working in her
and speaking to her.
"29. God has given her a most wonderfully strong and
valiant spirit: she was once timid; now she tramples on all the evil
spirits. She has put far away from herself all the littleness and
silliness of women; she is singularly free from scruples, and
most sincere.
"30. Besides, our Lord has given her the gift of most
sweet tears, great compassion for her neighbours, the knowledge of her
own faults, a great reverence for good people, and self-abasement; and
I am certain that she has done good to many, of whom I
am one.
"31. She is continually reminding herself of God, and
has a sense of His presence. All the locutions have been verified,
and every one of them accomplished; and this is a very
great test.
"32. Her visions are a source of great clearness in her
understanding, and an admirable illumination in the things
of God.
"33. It was said to her that she should lead those who
were trying her spirit to look into the Scriptures, and that they
would not find that any soul desirous of pleasing God had been so
long deceived."

See Life, ch. xxix.
Â§Â§ 9â€“13.

De la Fuente thinks she means the
religious state.

See Life, ch. xxiv. Â§ 8, and ch. xxxi. Â§ 22.

See Life, ch. xxiii.
Â§ 19.

See Life, ch. xxxv.
Â§ 2.

See Life, ch. ix. Â§ 6, and ch. xiv. Â§ 7.

See Â§ 3,
above.

St.
Matt. vi. 31: "Nolite ergo solliciti esse,
dicentes: Quid manducabimus. . . . aut
quo operiemur?"

See Life, ch. vii.
Â§ 2.

See Life, ch. ii. Â§ 2.

Â§ 2,
above.

See Life, ch. xx.
Â§ 29.

See Life, ch. xxxi.
Â§ 17.

See Life, ch. xxv.
Â§ 20.

See Life, ch. xxv. Â§Â§ 18, 22.

Addressed, it is believed, to her
confessor, F. Pedro IbaÃ±ez. This Relation corresponds with ch. xxxiv. of the Life (De
la Fuente).

See Life, ch. xxvii.

See Life, ch. xxxi.
Â§ 15.

The Saint is supposed to refer to
the troubles she endured during the foundation of the monastery of
St. Joseph.

Gal. ii. 20: "Vivo autem, jam non ego; vivit vero in
me Christus."

A celebrated Dominican, professor
of theology in Salamanca (Bouix).

Alonzo Ramirez wished to have the
right of burial in the new monastery, but the nobles of Toledo looked
on his request as unreasonable. See Foundations,
chs. xv. and xvi.

See Way of Perfection,
ch. viii.; but ch. v. of the
previous editions.

See Book of the
Foundations, ch. iii.

In the copy kept in Toledo, the day
is Tuesday after the Assumption (De
la Fuente).

Ch.
xxvii. Â§ 10.

St. John
xiv. 23: "Ad eum veniemus, et mansionem apud
eum faciemus."

See Â§ 6.

Titus ii. 5: "Sobrias, domus curam habentes."

This took place in 1571, when the
Saint had been appointed prioress of the monastery of the Incarnation
at Avila; the very house she had left in order to found that of St. Joseph, to keep the rule in
its integrity.

See Book of the
Foundations, ch. xxviii.

Cant. v. 1: "Veniat dilectus meus in hortum suum,
et comedat."

A.D. 1572.

Maria de Velasco y Aragon,
Countess of Osorno (Ribera, lib. iii. c. 1).

See Relation iv. Â§ 2.

The monastery of the Incarnation,
Avila (De la Fuente).

St.
John of the Cross, at the instance of the Saint, was sent to Avila,
with another father of the reformed Carmelites, to be confessor of the
nuns of the Incarnation, who then disliked the observance of the
primitive rule.

2 Cor. xi. 27: "In labore et Ã¦rumna, in
vigiliis multis."

St.
Matt. xvii. 2: "Et transfiguratus est
ante eos."

St.
John xiii. 16: "Non est servus major
domino suo."

Isabel of Jesus, born in Segovia,
and whose family name was Jimena, told Ribera (vide
lib. iv. c. v.) that she was the singer, being then a novice
in Salamanca.

See Fortress of the
Soul, vi. ch. xi.

See Relation, iii.
Â§ 16.

See above, Â§ 1.

2 Cor. i. 12: "Gloria nostra hÃ¦c est, testimonium
conscientiÃ¦ nostrÃ¦."

See St.
John of the Cross, Mount
Carmel, bk. ii. ch. v.

See Foundations, ch.
v. Â§ 10.

Eccl. ix. 1: "Nescit homo utrum amore an odio
dignus sit."

See St.
John of the Cross, Mount
Carmel, bk. iii. ch. xxxiv.

The Â§Â§ 6, 7, and 8 are the
thirteenth letter of the second volume, ed. Doblado.

See Relation iii.
Â§ 13.

Anton.
a Sancto Joseph, in his notes on this passage, is anxious to save the
Thomist doctrine that one of the Divine Persons cannot be seen without
the other, and so he says that the Saint speaks of the Three Persons
as she saw Themâ€”not as They are in Themselves.

2 Maccab. ix. 10, 12: "Eum nemo poterat propter intolerantiam foetoris
portare, . . . . nec ipse jam foetorem suum
ferre posset."

Cassian, Collat. vii. cap.
iv. p. 311: "Nec enim si quis ignarus natandi,
sciens pondus corporis sui ferre aquarum liquorem non posse,
experimento suÃ¦ voluerit imperitiÃ¦ definire, neminem penitus posse
liquidis elementis solida carne
circumdatum sustineri."

Anton. a Sancto Joseph says that the Saint
meant to write four-and-twenty, in allusion to Apoc.
iv. 4.

Apoc. viii. 4.

See Foundations,
ch. xxii.

Psalm cxlvii. 14: "He hath made
thy borders peace."

Perhaps the Saint refers to what
she has written in her Life,
ch. xxxviii. Â§Â§ 11, 12.

Life, ch. iv. Â§ 1.

See Life, ch. xxiv.
Â§ 4.

See Life, ch. xxv.
Â§ 18.

See Life, ch. xxv. Â§ 20, and ch. xxvii. Â§ 1.

See Life, ch. xxvi.
Â§ 5.

Don Francisco de Soto y Salazar was
a native of Bonilli de la Sierra, and Vicar-General of the Bishops of
Astorga and Avila, and Canon of Avila; Inquisitor of Cordova, Seville,
and Toledo; Bishop, successively, of Albarracin, Segorve, and
Salamanca. He died at Merida, in 1576, poisoned, it was suspected, by
the sect of the Illuminati, who were alarmed at his faithful zeal and
holy life (Palafox, note to letter 19, vol. i. ed.
Doblado). "She went to the Inquisitor, Don Francisco Soto de
Salazarâ€”he was afterwards Bishop of Salamancaâ€”and said to him: 'My
lord, I am subject to certain extraordinary processes in prayer, such
as ecstasies, raptures, and revelations, and do not wish to be deluded
or deceived by Satan, or to do anything that is not absolutely safe.
I give myself up to the Inquisition to try me, and examine my ways of
going on, submitting myself to its orders.' The Inquisitor replied:
'SeÃ±ora, the business of the Inquisition is not to try the spirit, nor
to examine ways of prayer, but to correct heretics. Do you, then,
commit your experience to writing, in all simplicity and truth, and
send it to the Father-Master Avila, who is a man of great spirituality
and learning, and extremely conversant with matters of prayer; and
when you shall have his answer, you may be sure there is nothing to be
afraid of'" (Jerome Gratian, Lucidario, cap. iii.).

This book is the Way of
Perfection, written by direction of F. BaÃ±es.

The Saint had such great affection
for the Order of St. Dominic, that she used
to say of herself, "Yo soy la Dominica
in passione," meaning thereby that she was
in her heart a Dominicaness, and a child of the Order
(Palafox, note to letter 16, vol. i.
ed. Doblado).

When this father had read the
Life, he had it copied, with the assent of F. Gratian,
and gave the copy thus made to the Duchess of Alba (De
la Fuente).

See Foundations, ch.
xvii. Â§ 12, note.

Life, ch. xxiii.
Â§ 15.

Life, ch. xxvi. Â§ 5.

Â§ 4.

Life, ch. xxv.
Â§ 19.

Life, ch. xxv.
Â§ 22.

See Life, ch. xxvii.
Â§ 5.

Inner Fortress, iv.
ch. iii.

See Life, ch. xvii.
Â§ 5.

Compare Life, ch. xxiv.
Â§ 4.

See Life, ch. xx.
Â§ 23.

"Arrobamiento
y arrebatamiento."

See Life, chs. xx. and xxi.

Life, ch. xx. Â§ 16;
Inner Fortress, vi. c. xi.

See Life, ch. xxix.
Â§ 17.

See Life, ch. xvii.
Â§ 9.

See Relation, iii.
Â§ 6.

See St. John of the Cross, Ascent
of Mount Carmel, bk. ii. ch. xxii.

F. Yepes, then prior of St. Jerome's, Toledo (De
la Fuente).

Don Alonzo Velasquez, canon of
Toledo, to whom Relation xi. is addressed.
The Saint speaks of this in a letter to Fra Gratian in 1576. The
letter is numbered 82 in the edition of Don Vicente, and 23 in the
fourth volume of the edition of Doblado.

Fra Jerome Gratian (De
la Fuente).

1 St.
Peter iv. 13: "Communicantes Christi
passionibus, gaudete."

This took place in 1575, when she
was going to found her monastery in Seville (Ribera, l.
iv. c. v. n. 110).

See Â§ 4,
above.

This was in 1575, when the Saint
was founding the monastery of Seville; and the brother was Don
Lorenzo, returned from the Indies, and who now placed himself under
the direction of his sister (De la Fuente).

In the Chapter "De la Clausura," Â§ 16: "De tratar con deudos se desvien lo mas
que pudieren."

The monastery of Paterna, of the
unreformed Carmelites. This was in 1576 (De
la Fuente).

St.
Matt. xvi. 16: "Tu es Christus, Filius
Dei vivi."

Gen. i. 26: "Ad imaginem et
similitudinem Nostram."

Fra Jerome Gratian. This took
place during the persecution that fell on the reformed Carmelites at
the end of the year 1575, and during the following year. See the last paragraph of this Relation (De la
Fuente; see, also, Relation
vi. Â§ 1).

Galat. ii. 20: "Vivo autem, jam non ego: vivit vero in
me Christus."

A.D. 1577 (De
la Fuente).

Jerome Gratian
(id.).

1 Cor. x. 13: "Fidelis autem Deus est qui non patietur vos tentari
supra id quod potestis."

Don Vicente says, that here is a
proofâ€”if any were wantingâ€”that the Saint wrote this after her
sojourn in Seville; because in Avila and in Castile and Aragon the
expression is, "our Lady of Dolors;" while in Andalucia it is
our Lady of Anguishâ€”"Nuestra SeÃ±ora de
las Angustias."

Fra Jerome Gratian.

Cant. v. 1.

This was the name given to Fra
Jerome Gratian, when the Saint was driven, by the persecution raised
against her, to distinguish her friends by other designations than
those by which they were usually known: this fragment cannot have been
written before the year 1578 (De la Fuente).

See the
last section.

Don Vicente published Â§Â§ 25 and 26 as fragments
separately (vol. i. pp. 524â€“526); but, as they seem to form a part of
the series of events spoken of in this Relation, they have been
placed here.

Fra Jerome Gratian exhibited the
brief which made him Visitor-Apostolic to the unreformed Carmelites,
who were very angry thereat, and rude in their vexation.

See Â§ 26.

See Life, ch. xxxviii.
Â§ 11.

Psalm xxxviii. 3: "Concaluit cor meum intra me."

This Relation is usually printed
among the letters of the Saint, and Don Vicente did not change the
practice, assigning as his reason the Saint's reference in Â§ 4 to certain transactions in which she was
engaged. The letter is the 333rd (336th in the second edition), and
the 4th of vol. ii., ed. Doblado, and is probably the latest account
of the state of her soul, for she died on October 4 in the
following year.

See Inner Fortress,
vii. ch. ii.

This relates to the taking of the
hermitage of our Lady de la Calle, in Palencia (De la
Fuente). See Foundations, ch. xxix.

"La soledad
que me hace pensar no se puede dar aquel sentido Ã  el que mama los
pechos de mi madre, la ida de Egito!" This passage, Don
Vicente observes, was omitted in all editions prior to his; he does
not know what it means; and the translator can give no corresponding
English words. Transcriber's note: The Spanish quoted here was
printed in the body of the text, p. 479; English rendition supplied from Corrigenda, p. viii.

St.
John xiv. 23: "Mansionem apud
eum faciemus."

The Book Of The Foundations

Table of Contents

Introduction

Annals Of The Saint's Life

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

I. PROLOGUE

II. Foundation Of Medina Del Campo.

III. How Our Father General Came To Avila, And What
Happened Upon His Coming.

IV. By What Means The Founding Of The Monastery Of St.
Joseph In Medina Del Campo Began To Be Negotiated.

V. On Certain Favours Which The Lord Bestowed On The Nuns Of
These Monasteries, And On The Manner The Prioresses Should
Conduct Themselves Towards The Sisters.

VI. Some Directions Concerning Prater.

VII. She Shows The Harm That May Happen To Spiritual Persons
By Their Not Understanding When They Should Resist The
Spirit. She Also Treats Of The Desires A Soul May Have
To Communicate, And Of The Deceit There May Be In Doing
So. Other Important Matters Are Mentioned For The Government Of The Houses.

VIII. How The Prioresses Should Conduct Themselves Towards
Those Who Are Melancholy.

IX. Some Directions On Revelations And Visions.

X. The Foundation Of St. Josephâ€™S Monastery At Malagon.

XI. Foundation Of The Monastery Of Valladolid.

XII. Continues The Relation Of The Means Taken By Dona
Casilda De Padilla To Carry Out Her Holy
Design Of Entering Religion

XIII. She Gives The Life And Death Of A Nun Named Beatriz
Of The Incarnation.

XIV. On The Foundation Of The First House Of Discalceate Friars.

XV. She Continues The History Of The Foundation Of The First
House Of Discalceate Carmelites. She Tells Something
Concerning The Life They Lead, Etc.

XVI. On The Foundation Of The Monastery Of The Glorious
St. Joseph In The City Of Toledo, In The Year 1569.

XVII. Of Certain Things That Took Place In This Convent Of S.
Joseph Of Toledo, To The Honour And Glory Of God

XVIII. The Foundation Of The Monasteries Of Friars And Of
Nuns At Pastrana, In One And The Same Year
1579, Mean 1569

XIX. Of The Foundation Of The Monastery Of S. Joseph At
Salamanca, In The Year 1570. Treats Of Some Important Counsels For Prioresses

XX. Continuation Of The Foundation Of The Monastery Of
S. Joseph In The City Of Salamanca

XXI. On The Foundation Of The Monastery Of Our Lady Of The
Annunciation, At Alba De Formes, In The Year 1571

XXII. Treats Of The Foundation Of The Glorious S.Joseph Of Carmel
At Segovia. Founded On The Feast Of S. Joseph, 1574

XXIII. Treats Of The Foundation Of The Glorious S. Joseph Del
Salvador In Veas, On The Feast Of S. Matthias, In The
Year 1575

XXIV. Treats Of The Foundation Of The Monastery Of The Glorious
S. Joseph Of Carmel In The City Of Seville. The First Mass
Said On The Feast Of The Most Holy Trinity, 1575

XXV. The Foundation Of S. Joseph Of Carmel In The City
Of Seville

XXVI. The Foundation Of The Glorious S. Joseph Of Seville
Continued. What Happened When Getting A House
Of Our Own

XXVII. Continuation Of The Same Foundation Of S. Joseph In The
City Of Seville. Relates Some Very Noteworthy Doings
Concerning The First Nun Who Entered There

XXVIII. Treats Of The Foundation In The City Of Caravaca. The
Blessed Sacrament Is Reserved On New Year'S Day Of
The Same Year 1576. It Bears The Title Of The Glorious
Saint Joseph

XXIX. The Foundation Of Villanueva De La Jara

XXX. Treats Of The Foundation Of S. Joseph Of Our Lady Of La
Calle In Palencia, On The Feast Of King David, Ln The
Year 1580

XXXI. The Foundation Of The Monastery Of The Most Holy Trinity
In Soria, In The Year 1581. The First Mass Said On
The Feast Of Our Father S. Eliseus

XXXII. In This Chapter The Foundation Of The Glorious S. Joseph
Of S. Anne In The City Of Burgos Is Begun. The First
Mass Is Said 19 April 1582, Octave Of The Feast Of The
Resurrection

The Foundation Of S Joseph's Convent At Granada

The Visitation Of The Nunneries

The Carmelite Rule

The Constitutions

Appendix I

Appendix II

Appendix III

Appendix IV

The Book Of The Foundations

Introduction

When S. Teresa had taken possession and founded the
first monastery of her nuns in Avila, 24th August 1562,
she was summoned back to the monastery of the Incarnation, where she had made her profession, for that monastery
was thrown into trouble by the act of the Saint, and the
nuns were very angry with her. She was made to give
an account of her conduct, and the provincial was sent
for, before whom she had to make what defence she
could: that defence she made in the presence of the nuns
her sisters, and so successfully that no one was found to
blame her. When she had appeased her sisters, she had
to meet other troubles: the people of Avila had been
also disturbed, and a new house of religion seemed for
the moment to be an offence to them. The magistrates
of the city resolved to suppress the monastery, but on
finding that it was lawfully established with the consent
of the bishop they had recourse to the courts of law.
But out of all their efforts nothing came, and the Saint, with
the consent of the provincial, left the monastery of the
Incarnation, and joined her sisters in the new house of S.
Joseph.

She went to that house, according to the chronicle of
the order, before the end of the year; but Ribera says,
and his account is more likely to be true, that she did
not return before the middle of Lent 1563. Fray Francisco de Santa Maria, the chronicler, rests his statement
that she went back in December on the expression in the
Prologue to the Foundations, 'In the year 1562 â€” the very
year in which this house of S. Joseph in Avila was founded
â€” I was ordered, when in that house, by my confessor,
the Dominican friar, father Garcia of Toledo, to write
the history of the foundation of the monastery.' He
says that Fray Garcia could not have given her the commandment to write before she returned to the Incarnation, because she was summoned thither at once, and was
not 'allowed to remain the whole day in S. Joseph's:
she must therefore, he says, have left the Incarnation
after the summons, and returned to S. Joseph's before
the end of the year.

If it was impossible for Fray Garcia to speak to her on
the day of the foundation, there is no difficulty in supposing that he had spoken to her frequently during the
time she was staying in that house and making it fit for a
monastery. He may have told her to write the history
even before the day of the foundation, for he knew
what a work it was, and had read the history of her
life, which she had prepared for Fray Pedro Ibanez, her
confessor.

But, be that as it may, it was during the first year of
her stay in S. Joseph's that she was ordered by Fray
Garcia of Toledo to write the history of its foundation.
It is to Fray Garcia, and to the inquisitor Don Franciso
de Soto y Salazar, afterwards bishop of Salamanca, whom
at this time she consulted, that we are indebted for the
history of her life as we have it at present.' After rewriting her Life she was busy with her treatise on the Way
of Perfection which was written at the commandment of
Father Banes, her confessor, and throughout her life her
constant friend: that was meant for the use of her own
nuns of S. Joseph's, and has only lately been published
as she first wrote it. It seems, then, that these two
books, with the constitutions of the nuns, were written
by her during her rest in her monastery â€” in 'the most
tranquil years of my life,' as she says in the first chapter
of the Foundations.

In the year 1560, while still in the monastery of the
Incarnation, the Saint made a vow always to do that
which was most perfect and to the greater glory of God.

Father Ribera says he never heard of any saint who had
made such a vow. Her confessors in 1565, Fray Garcia
and Fray Antonio de Heredia, Carmelite and prior of
Avila, considering that the vow thus general was a possible
source of scruples, recommended her to apply to the
provincial, Fray Angel de Salazar, to make it void, and
allow her to renew it in another form which should be
less an occasion of scruples than the form in which she
had so heroically made it. The Saint, always obedient
to her confessors, made the application at once, and Fray
Angel, then in Toledo, issued his commission in this
form:

By this present writing we authorise and appoint the
most reverend the father prior of our house of Carmel in
Avila, and the most reverend Fray Garcia of Toledo of
the order of S. Dominic, and either of them, having first
administered the sacrament of penance and confession to
our most dearly beloved sister Teresa of Jesus, mother
of the nuns of S. Joseph's, to release her from any vow
she may have made, or to commute it as to them it shall
seem best for the service of our Lord, and for the quieting of the conscience of our sister aforesaid. We grant
them hereby our authority, and the power we possess in
virtue of our office and ministry. Done in Toledo,
2nd March 1565.

'Fray Angel de Salazar.'

The Saint, having received the sanction of the provincial, gave his letter to Fray Garcia, who executed his
commission, and on the back of the letter wrote thus: â€”

' I have heard your confession, according to the directions of the father provincial herein contained, and for
the peace and quiet of your conscience and of that of
your confessors â€” which is one and the same thing â€” I
make void and of none effect the vow you have made,
in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.'

Fray Garcia having released her from the obligations
of her vow, the Saint was at liberty to renew it in another
form, but subject to three conditions necessary to its
validity. The Saint when in doubt was to consult her
confessor, and having done so was to follow his advice,
in order to avoid all scruples on his part as well as on
hers. The vow, therefore, was binding on her under
these three conditions, and not otherwise: â€” The first, the
fact of the vow was to be made known to the confessor;
the second, she was to ask his direction; the third, he
was to tell what was the more perfect course. She also
made another vow, that of perfect obedience to Fray
Jerome of the Mother of God. This she did about ten
years after the commutation of her great vow by Fray
Garcia, when she was on her way to Seville to make the
foundation there.

In the fourth year of her residence in the monastery of
S. Joseph, the general of the order, Fra Giovanni Battista
Rossi [Rubeo] arrived in Spain. The sovereign pontiff
at the request of the king, Don Philip II, had commanded him to make his visitation. The general was a
man of great sanctity and simplicity, humble and generous,
but his friars were not all like himself; the fathers in
Andalucia especially were wedded to their lax observances,
and made more or less resistance to his decrees; they also
spread abroad certain stories, probably of his excessive
severity, which were carried to the king, who, believing
what he was told, conceived a dislike to the general, and
even showed his displeasure. The general, however,
persevered, and did all he could do for "the reform of his
order; but he seems to have had but little hopes of the
province of Andalucia, and would not allow S. Teresa to
found monasteries in it.

S. Teresa in her monastery was under the jurisdiction
of the bishop of Avila, and the general of her order,
because of the provincial's refusal to accept it, therefore
had no right to intermeddle in her affairs, and those of
her nuns, though they were Carmelites and observed the
rule. But the Saint never intended to withdraw from
under the authority of the general, and her present position,
though brought about by most lawful means, was a position which she would have avoided with her whole heart
if she had understood the effects of what had been done
for the foundation of her monastery. So when she heard
of the general's arrival she began to be afraid she might
have been ordered back to her old home, or cut off from
the order, for she had founded her house without the
consent of her immediate superiors, and had placed it
under the jurisdiction of the bishop of the diocese. She
met her difficulties at once, and in the simplest way:
with the permission of the bishop, who was her superior,
she invited the general to visit her, and on his arriving received him as it she were still his subject. The bishop
had most generously waived his rights in favour of the
general, who was received in all honour as if he were the
superior of the house of S. Joseph.

As usual, she was frank and open with the general,
and made known to him the whole history of the foundation, and at the same time her own inner life. The general
was pleased exceedingly, but none the less sorry that
such a nun was no longer his subject. The order of the
house and the piety of the community filled his soul with
joy, but the house was not his, and he could not hide his
sorrow.

The general found no fault with the Saint, however,
but he was very angry with the provincial, whose faint-heartedness had robbed the order of such a house. Two
nuns had left the monastery of the Incarnation with S.
Teresa, and the three, being his subjects, had become
subjects of the bishop, but without his knowledge and
without his leave. It was a pain to the good man, and
he asked for the brief by which the transfer of obedience
had been made. This was shown him at once, and he
on reading it saw that it did not touch his authority as
general and visitor apostolic. He did not regard it as
binding on him, nor was it, for none of the superiors of
the order had been called to consent or object to the
transfer of the Saint's obedience. Her vow still subsisted,
and so he told the Saint that she was still his subject, and
that he had power to receive her back into the order if
she wished to return. The Saint most joyfully accepted
the offer, for she had never intended to leave it, and was
received back, the general comforting her at the same
time by saying that he would never force her to return
to the monastery of the Incarnation, where the observance had become lax; and that none in authority under
him should, as her immediate superiors, be allowed to
do so at any time.

The general was glad when he recovered the Saint,
but the bishop of Avila was extremely displeased, and
spoke in some anger about the change. As he had been
so good a friend, and had consented to the foundation
when her own provincial had refused it, she felt that her
act bore the semblance of ingratitude. She was therefore
deeply distressed, and the pain of the bishop's displeasure
was very keen. In a little time, however, the bishop,
seeing her distress and humility, and considering also
that under the circumstances she could hardly have done
otherwise, was pacified, and continued from that day
forth to befriend her and the order in every way he
could, and to the utmost of his power. The general
made many visits to the monastery of S. Joseph, and
discussed grave affairs of the order with the Saint. She
herself, burning with the love of souls, made known to
him her chief desire â€” the foundation of a house where
the friars should live under the primitive rule. The
general would have been glad to see such a house
established, but he saw the difficulties before him in the
opposition of his subjects, and counselled delay. He
did not refuse his consent absolutely, nor would he allow
the reform to proceed without conditions: accordingly,
to satisfy the Saint, he gave her leave to found monasteries
of nuns, but subject to the order. This was a matter,
it seems, of which S. Teresa had never thought: she
had never intended to do more than found her own
house, wherein she could sanctify herself in the strict
observance of the primitive rule. But she gladly accepted
the permission, though, as she says, ' I did not ask for
it,' and saw in that permission the way to obtain what at
the time she had more at heart â€” the foundation of
monasteries of friars keeping the primitive rule.

The first commission given her was dated 27th April
1567. She was authorised to found monasteries of nuns
in the kingdom of Castille, and might take any two sisters
willing to go from the Incarnation for each of them.
This done the general left Avila for Madrid, and thence
on 16th May sent the Saint another letter in explanation
of the first. Doubts, he said, might be raised about the
words ' kingdom of Castille,' which means either Old or
New Castille. To remove all difficulties, the general said
that by the ' kingdom of Castille ' he meant both the Old
and the New, and that the Saint was to be allowed to make
foundations wherever she pleased within the borders of
that kingdom: the only restraint upon her was that the
monasteries must be all under the obedience of the order,
and no foundations must be made in Andalucia.

Though the general went away from Avila without
giving his assent to the petition of S. Teresa, as she
wished it to be done â€” for he seems to have done no
more than promise to do so â€” she was not discouraged,
and by letter earnestly begged of him to found a house
of reformed friars. This letter was delivered to him
when he was in Valencia; on 14th August he wrote
from Barcelona authorising S. Teresa to found two
monasteries of friars wherein the primitive rule should
be observed as it was in her own monastery of S. Joseph
in Avila.

The Saint received the licence of the general when she
was in Medina del Campo, making the foundation there,
and ' always thinking of monasteries of friars ' (ch. iii. 15).
But in thus thinking she was not alone: there were two
friars of her order in Medina at the time to whom God
had granted the same desires, and who, like herself, did
not know how to carry them into effect â€” Fray Antonio
de Heredia, no longer young, and Fray Juan of S. Mathias,
in the twenty-sixth year of his age, and newly made
priest. The former she was acquainted with already, for
he was prior of the Carmelite house in Avila when she
was living in S. Joseph's. He too had been called to
a stricter life than was that then lived by his brethren,
and had serious thoughts of leaving the order and
becoming a Carthusian. The Saint dissuaded him from
this, and on his yielding to her requests asked him to
wait awhile, and test himself by leading a stricter life
among his brethren according to the primitive rule; for,
though she was glad to find even one friar who gave
promise of better things, she had not much confidence in
Fray Antonio, who had grown old in the order, and was,
she feared, unequal to the austerities which she intended
to revive.

Fray Antonio took the advice of the Saint, and began
to make trial of the new life which he was afterwards to
live. The bodily austerities were probably not the least
of his trials: his brethren, knowing the resolution he had
taken, began to torment him: they said he was about to
insult the whole order that he might make himself
a name; that he wished to bring in novelties and disturb
the friars as mother Teresa had disturbed the nuns; that
he was seeking worldly advancement â€” he who never
merited any in his own order; that he made a pretence
of zeal for selfish ends, and was despising others who were
better than he was; that he was setting himself up
against his superiors, who never thought of doing what
he was purposing to do, and who were far wiser than he.
Fray Antonio nevertheless persevered, and bore all
contradiction in peace, and ' the persecution of evil
tongues ' (ch. iii. 15) never shook his good resolution.

The other friar was Fray Juan of S. Mathias, afterwards
and now known as S. John of the Cross. He had been
received into the order in the house of S. Anne in
Medina del Campo in the year 1563, when he was about
twenty-one years of age, and had made his profession in
the same house in 1564, Fray Angel de Salazar being the
provincial. In the course of the latter year he was sent
to the Carmelite college in Salamanca, then known as the
College of S. Andrew the Apostle, but afterwards as the
College of S. Teresa. Having there finished his course
of theology, and being of the age of twenty-five, he was
ordained priest. His superiors sent him back to the
house of the order in Medina, where he had been professed,
to sing his first mass, partly for the sake of giving pleasure
to his mother, who was a widow, and he was there when
S. Teresa was occupied with her own foundation of the
monastery of her nuns.

He had come to Medina del Campo with another friar,
Pedro de Orozco, through whom S. Teresa heard of him,
and of his longing to become a Carthusian; for he too
had the same wish as Fray Antonio, and had not kept it
a secret from his companion. Fray Pedro, knowing
that S. Teresa wished to have houses of friars who
observed the primitive rule, went to her and spoke of
his companion Fray Juan. The Saint was so much
pleased with the account of him given her by Fray Pedro
that she longed to see him, being fully persuaded that he
was the very man whom our Lord had destined for her
work. She spent the night in prayer, earnestly beseeching
our Lord to give her Fray Juan, like Rachel who prayed
for children.

Fray Pedro asked his companion to visit the Saint in
her monastery, but to no purpose, for he would not
converse with women if he could avoid it. By dint
of importunity, however. Fray Pedro prevailed at last and
the visit was made. It resulted in Fray Juan's promising
to begin the reform, provided the Saint made no long
delay, for he was bent at the time on making himself a
Carthusian at the first opportunity.

S. Teresa now felt that her work was safe, for she had
two friars, or, as she said, a friar and a half, for Fray
Antonio was a portly personage, while S. John of the
Cross was thin and low of stature. Accordingly, in
about twelve months from that time the first of the two
houses which the general had authorised her to found
was begun, in great poverty, in Duruelo, the first conventual
mass being said there on the first Sunday in Advent 1568,
and three monasteries of nuns, subject to the general of
the order, having been then founded â€” Medina del Campo,
Malagon and Valladolid. The first house of S. Teresa,
S. Joseph's in Avila, was not subject to the order, though
the Saint herself was, but to the bishop of the diocese,
Don Alvaro de Mendoza.

S. Teresa seems to have proceeded with as much care
and caution as were possible in this foundation of Duruelo,
in order to avoid any difficulties that the friars might
make, who were not disposed to accept her reform. The
latter at first were probably more or less indifferent, and
perhaps somewhat blind, to the results to be naturally
expected from the lowly beginnings made in Duruelo.
None of them seem to have been disturbed, for the
general in Rome had not heard of the foundation in the
beginning of February 1569. On the 8th of that month
and year the father-general wrote a letter to the nuns of
Medina del Campo, in which, after saying of S. Teresa
that she ' is doing more for the order than all the friars in
Spain,' he asks for information about the two monasteries
of men, and would be glad to hear that they had been
founded."

The second of the two houses was, however, founded
in the course of the year, on 13 th July, in Pastrana.

S. Teresa, having founded the two houses of friars
according to the permission of the general, gives no
account herself of the other houses which were founded
afterwards, and which were thirteen in number. She had
probably less to do with them than with the monasteries
of nuns, though she was not unconcerned in them. She
founded and directed seventeen monasteries of nuns in
the course of twenty years, yet of those years five years
all but nine days were spent tranquilly in her first
monastery of S. Joseph in Avila, and for four years and
nearly two months besides her work was hindered by the
troubles of the order, and very nearly so before that by
her being compelled to accept the government of the
monastery of the Incarnation, wherein she had made her
profession, and which did not belong to her reform. The
monasteries of friars founded in her lifetime were many.

Of these monasteries two were abandoned for a time;
the friars removed from Duruelo to Mancera, and from
Penuela to Mount Calvary or Coreneuela, but they
returned to both places afterwards.

The monasteries of the nuns were many as well.
But two of these foundations were made in the absence
of the Saint. That of Caravaca was made when she was
in Seville, unable to leave her sisters because of the
straits they were in. She, however, made all the
necessary preparations, and chose the nuns who were
to live there. That of Granada was made by Anne of
Jesus with the help of S. John of the Cross, S. Teresa
being at the time unable to make the journey because of
the foundation to be made in Burgos. She, however, chose
the nuns to be sent with Anne of Jesus, and, among
others,' gave her Antonia of the Holy Ghost, one of the
four nuns who took the habit in S. Joseph's when that
house was founded in 1562.

In the year 1571, when she was engaged in Salamanca
making and strengthening her foundation there, she was
withdrawn from her own immediate work, and sent as
prioress, by order of her superiors, to the monastery of
the Incarnation in Avila, the house in which she had
made her profession, but which she had left, as she
thought, never to return to it, for her own foundation of
S. Joseph's house in the same city. The apostolic visitor.
Fray Pedro Fernandez, of the order of S. Dominic,
seeing the desolate state of that house, knew of no means
of relief except that of sending the Saint back to it. He
consulted with the superiors of the order, and then, with
their full consent, but on his own authority, and in virtue
of the power he had, laid on S. Teresa, without consulting
the nuns, the heavy burden of being their prioress,
The monastery of the Incarnation had not been
founded in poverty, yet it was more poor than the
poorest of those which S. Teresa was founding. It
was so poor that it could not give the nuns food enough
to sustain them, and the result was that they asked for
leave to go to their kindred from time to time to escape
from the inconvenience of hunger. The general during
his visitation in 1567 found himself obliged to close the
novitiate until the number of nuns should have been
diminished by death, or by transfer to other convents.
Fray Pedro Fernandez, the apostolic visitor, seeing the
sad state to which the monastery had been brought,
determined to make an effort to save it, and succeeded,
for the Saint's administration of. it, both temporally and
spiritually, answered all his expectations, and made the
monastery what, perhaps, it had never been before,
though it had been the nursing-mother of many holy
souls, and among them S. Teresa herself.

This famous monastery had been built in the year 1513,
by Dona Elvira de Medina, and mass was said in it for
the first time in 1515, 4th April, the day on which S.
Teresa was baptised. It stood outside the city, and was
a fine and handsome house, with large gardens, and
abundantly supplied with water. In 1550, according to the
history of Fray Francis de Santa Maria, bk. i. ch. ix. i, the
house held one hundred and ninety nuns; and the Saint
herself, in a letter written by her in March or April 1581,
says that she lived for five-and-twenty years in a
monastery wherein there were a hundred and eighty
nuns. 5 But the poverty of the house and the lax
observance were an evil, nor could the Saint shut her
eyes to its disadvantage when she was living in it, though
she made every excuse for it in her power, and had a
stronger affection for it.

In the beginning of July 1571 the Saint knew of her
appointment, but was most unwilling to accept the
charge laid upon her : our Lord upbraided her for
holding back, and then she yielded.

In October she went from her own house in Avila,
having first renounced for herself, 13th July, all the exemptions and mitigations which were in force in the
monastery to which she was going. She had done so
before, and now, for the greater security of her conscience,
she repeats her resolution to observe the primitive rule in
all its seventy. On the 6th of October Fray Pedro, the
apostolic visitor, accepts in Medina the act of renunciation,
and releases the Saint from all obligations of conforming
to the laxer observances then prevailing in the monastery
of the Incarnation, as well as in the others of the order.

The nuns of the Incarnation were greatly troubled when
they heard that the new prioress was coming without their
consent, and in violation of their customs. They had not
elected her, and they had not been asked to do so, neither
would they have elected her if the visitor had allowed
them to choose their prioress, as they had hitherto done.
In their distress and alarm they sent for all their friends
and acquaintance among seculars, made their complaints,
and besought them to help them, now that they were to
be placed under the authority of _a nun_ who would put a
stop to their innocent recreations and multiply their
austerities. All this was known to the Saint, and she
accepted her cross. The visitor apostolic, not ignorant of
the trouble in the house, ordered the provincial to attend
the Saint on the day of her taking possession, in order, it
possible, to keep the peace.

The provincial. Fray Angel de Salazar, with his companion, went to the monastery, and, having assembled the
sisters in chapter, read to them the letter of the visitor
which announced to them that he had made Teresa of
Jesus their prioress. There arose at once a cry of distress
from the nuns, who regarded themselves as given over to an
enemy; some said they would never obey her, and others
reviled her; she in the meantime being on her knees
before the Most Holy Sacrament on the altar. All the
nuns, however, were not so foolish, and the wise, so
soon as the letter had been read, took up the cross, and,
chanting the Te Deum, went forth to receive their prioress.
The trouble and disturbance were so great that some of
the nuns fainted through the violence of their distress.
The Saint went among them and gently touched them:
all in a moment recovered their senses and their reason,
and offered no further resistance to her.

Others, however, still remained obstinate in their rebellion, and bent on disobedience to the last; but the
Saint was patient and gentle, and exercised her authority
as if she had none; nevertheless she intended to be
obeyed, and accordingly on the first chapter day the
nuns on entering the choir saw the image of our Lady in
the seat of the prioress, and S. Teresa sitting at her feet.
The rebellious nuns were struck by a heavenly terror,
and changed their minds: all signs and all desires of disobedience vanished, and the Saint was obeyed as prioress
with as much readiness and affection as if she had been
chosen by them of their own free will. From that day
forth the nuns of the Incarnation gave no trouble to the
prioress, and the abuses of the house were all corrected;
though under the mitigated observance, which was never
changed, the nuns lived as if they were under the reform
of S. Teresa; their temporal and spiritual necessities,
hitherto so great and serious, were at once supplied; and
the seed of good, sown in such good soil, grew and bore
fruit so abundantly that the monastery of the Incarnation
became from that day forth one of the pearls of the old
observance.

She remained in the monastery of the Incarnation, the
spiritual direction of which she had given to S. John of
the Cross, for nearly two years.

In 1573 Anne of Jesus begged the visitor apostolic to
allow S. Teresa to visit the monastery of Salamanca,
which was still in trouble, and the nuns were without a
church in which the Blessed Sacrament dwelt. Fray
Pedro Fernandez gave the desired permission, and the
Saint, who was in the monastery of the Incarnation
29th July of this year, made her preparations for her
return to Salamanca, to make the final arrangements about
her monastery there, and which she had not been able to
make in 1571, when she was called away by some difficulties in Medina, and thence to Avila. She was in
Salamanca on the 2nd of August, and on the 24th day of
that month began there to write the history of the
Foundations at the request of her confessor, father Ripalda
of the Society of Jesus,

The three years of her priorate in the Incarnation came
to an end, 6th October 1574, on which day, to the great
sorrow of the nuns, she left that house for her own
monastery in Avila. All this time the storm was gathering
which threatened to ruin her reform, and during which
her patience was tried in the furnace of persecution.

The story of that persecution is briefly this.

The Council of Trent having legislated for the Religious
Orders it became necessary to introduce the reforms
decided upon with as little delay as possible. These
aimed not only at the suppression of local or individual
abuses â€” a thing which at no time and in no place had ever
been lost sight of â€” but at a complete re-organisation
principally in the matter of Poverty. Until that period
a religious, though incapable of holding personal property
was allowed to enjoy certain revenues; for instance, it
frequently happened that people founded and endowed
cells in convents reserving to themselves the right of
presenting members of their family to what might be termed
'a living'. Thus, in many convents we find an uninterrupted succession of scions of the founders' family; again,
it might happen that in one and the same convent some
cells were more richly endowed than others, and, in consequence, some religious more favourably placed than
their brethren. Permissions to hold and enjoy endowed
cells or to dispose of such endowments are very frequently
met with until the Council of Trent radically changed
these matters. They had been so ingrained in the minds
and customs of the times that the introduction of the
Reform decreed by the Council taxed the ingenuity of the
General to the utmost. His correspondence, which is
preserved, and the reports of his canonical visitations give
a lively picture of the state of things and the difficulties
he encountered in many provinces. Philip II who had
already ' reformed ' the Franciscans and some other
orders requested the Holy See to send the General in
person to carry out the Reform among the Carmelites.
When Rubeo arrived in Spain he proceeded first to
Madrid where he undoubtedly received reports and instructions concerning the province of Andalucia whither
he hastened to begin his work. Unfortunately the diary
of the Spanish journey is either lost or mislaid, but there
are other sources from which we are able to learn a
good deal. It was Rubeo's custom when arriving
at a convent â€” atter the usual complimentary speeches,
etc., â€” to explain to the friars the object of the visitation and
the nature of the new legislation; he then sent his
secretaries from cell to cell with a large basket and a pair
of scissors, to gather all the garments whose material or
shape was contrary to regulation, and to cut off collars,
cuffs and brass buttons â€” which were then the fashion but
against which Rubeo had an aversion that makes us
smile. They had also the duty to remove any furniture
or other objects not specially permitted by the constitutions, for instance musical instruments other than the
'lyre, baryton and ayudo ' (probably guitars and mandolines
of various sizes) which were allowed; their vigilance
naturally extended to the books; those that were purely
secular were confiscated, but if any work of a suspected
author were found the owner was severely punished; the
possession of a book mentioned on the Index led to
criminal proceedings. The next step was that a notary
was called before whom those in possession of endowments
or rents had to renounce their rights. If they did so
voluntarily they were honourably and approvingly
mentioned in the acts of the visitation, but if any one
demurred he was compelled under the censures and
penalties expressed in Canon law to make his renunciation
all the same. Meanwhile, if there were complaints
against any religious, the case was sifted by the assessors
and a process drawn up. It should be borne in mind
that at that time and for centuries afterwards clerics
enjoyed the privikgium fori, that is, if any was charged
with some crime, say theft, he was not brought before the
ordinary tribunals, but was dealt with by an ecclesiastical
court which in the case of regulars was presided over by
his superiors. A large number of such lawsuits under
Rubeo lie before us. He was most painstaking in
gathering all the evidence and hearing both sides, and in
weighing both aggravating and extenuating circumstances;
this done he fixed the penalty with astonishing minuteness,
but it must be averred that according to the habit of the
time his judgments were extremely severe, not excluding
long imprisonment, flogging, fasting and even prolonged
terms of forced labour in the galleys. These punishments
were of course reserved for grievous offences, and if they
appear to us in some cases excessive it is only because
modern criminal legislation no longer takes cognisance of
many faults which in themselves are serious enough but
in a religious or ecclesiastic altogether incompatible with
his sacred calling:. At the end of the visitation the
general drew up a number of regulations which after
wards were collected and published and thus obtained
force in the whole order. During all this time Rubeo
paid much attention to the progress of students and
scholars, held daily disputations in the convent, assisted
at public ' scholastic acts,' paid state visits to archbishops
and bishops, governors and magistrates and received their
return visits with all the ceremonial and etiquette then in
vogue.

As to the result of his visit in Andalucia he writes
from Barcelona (20th August 1567) that he has done much
and suffered a great deal and although he was obliged to
condemn some members to the galleys, to send some others
into exile and to throw a few into gaol yet he cherishes
the province, for (as he says elsewhere) there as well as in
the other provinces of Spain, there are not a few masters
in Divinity and other fathers who have well deserved of
the order, men well grounded in holy obedience (Rome,
1st Sept. 1568). From these words we may draw the
conclusion that Rubeo was fairly satisfied with the result
of his visitation. But he did not know the depth of the
Andalusians, for he had hardly left the province before
they took a step which undid all he had done. They
asked for and obtained a bull (dated i6th April 1567)
whereby the four Spanish provinces were substracted
from the visitation of the general and subjected to that of
the bishops; the ringleaders were ' some most criminal
friars whose wish it was to live with the same lawlessness
as they did before the visitation ' (Ibid.). And this was
done while the visitation was actually in progress ! Rubeo
was kept ignorant of the fact for a considerable time, for
he did not obtain the repeal of this bull till 31st January
1570. He knew that the Andalusians had bitterly complained to the king of his harshness and he knew also
that Philip II, who liked to mix himself up with the
affairs of the Church, had appointed, or caused the Holy
See to appoint Apostolic visitors. In view of the
friction which must necessarily result from such interference with the government of the order Rubeo nominated
in each province a number of commissioners, to whom he
gave detailed instructions, who were to meet the Royal
visitors. They were to demand communication of the
ApostoHc Brief, and in their turn were to produce the
constitutions made by Blessed John Soreth (1462),
Nicholas Audet (1524) and his own (1568). They were
not to allow any addition to or derogation from these
constitutions and were carefully to examine the Brief in
order to ascertain whether the visitors had any power to
interfere. Among the commissioners nominated by
Rubeo appear some whose names occur frequently in the
history of S. Teresa and her foundations, namely, for
Aragon, Michael Ulloa and Juan de la Quadra; for
Andalucia, Agustin Suarez; for Castille Alonso Gonzalez,
provincial, Angel de Salazar, Martin Garcia, Antonio de
Heredia and Juan Guttierez de la Madalena; and for
Catalonia, Jeronimo Tostado.

The reader will now understand why Rubeo persistently
forbade the Discalced friars to make foundations in
Andalucia. Already in his first patent (i6th August 1567)
he mentions expressly the province of Castille as the seat
of the Contemplative Carmelites; on 8 August 1570 he
reserves to himself the licence for admission of Andalusians
in the convents of the Discalced friars; on 19th August
1571 he grants permission for the foundation of the
convents of Altomira and Villena (afterwards established
at La Roda) with strict prohibition to make further
foundations; in February 1573 he admits the convent of
Mondejar projected by the Count de Tendilla with the
proviso that if this place were not situated in Old
Castille the licence should be void. On 22nd June 1573
Fray Diego de Leon [Note: He was born at Utrera, was Master in Divinity and became titular
bishop of Colibraso and suffragan to Cardinal Bartolomeo de la Cueva
bishop of Siponto (2nd October I 560), after whose death he probably filled
the same post under his successor, Ptolemeo Galli who resigned in 1573.]
obtained letters patent from the
General for the foundation of a convent of Discalced
Carmelites within the province of Andalucia, but this
was to be an exception and no other convent might be
established there; this condition is further insisted upon
in a second patent of 7th February 1574. Evidently Rubeo
was at that time ignorant that in point of fact his ruling
had already been transgressed in three places â€” Granada,
Peiiuela and Seville. Convents of both friars and nuns
were allowed to be founded by Don Juan Diaz at
Almodovar del Campo under a patent of 21st June 1574,
but no Caked Carmelite was to be admitted except Father
Antony of Jesus, formerly called Antonio de Heredia,

[Note: Diego assisted at the Council of Trent where he distinguished himself in
the discussions and as preacher. He withdrew to Seville about 1569 and
died in 1589. For some time he was titular bishop of the diocese of the
Isles in Scotland. ]

Another provision which Rubeo had greatly at heart
was that the Discalced friars and nuns should remain
subject to the provincial of Castille, Theirs were to be
reformed convents for the edification of the province,
but on no account were they to attempt a separation or
the establishment of a Congregation of their own. In
order to understand this point it is necessary to remind
the reader that as early as the beginning of the fifteenth
century a reform had been set on foot which afterwards
was called the Congregation of Mantua. At the time
with which we are concerned the friction occasioned by
its establishment had long since subsided, but its off-shoot,
the French Congregation of Albi, erected in 1499 by
bishop Louis d'Amboise without the concurrence of the
order though afterwards aggregated to it led to serious
friction. Rubeo had interminable difficulties with it,
and some years after his death the Holy See issued
a decree of suppression. Much as the General favoured
the foundation of reformed convents he looked upon
separatist tendencies as a real evil and took every step
to prevent the spreading in Spain of the troubles which
had undermined the peace and tranquillity of the order
in France. He therefore said in his patent of i6th
August 1567: ' If at any time any of the (Discalced)
triars, on pretext of living in greater perfection should
endeavour to separate themselves from the province (of
Castille) with the help of grandees or on the strength of
briefs or other concessions from Rome we pronounce
and declare them men actuated by evil intentions, authors
of seditions, quarrels, contentions and ambition unto the
deception and perdition of souls, and we as the spiritual
Father of the order (however unworthy) reject them and
their successors as steeped in a spirit of contradiction,
discontent, scandal, as disturbers of the peace, as disobedient and defective in the fulfillment of their promises,
until they turn back and do penance and thus save their
souls against the day of the Lord; so that they may
learn what an evil it is to defame the order and cause
divisions, and to bring about the separation of brothers
and the refusal of obedience; and this we do because
we have no intention of fomenting infernal discords but
rather wish to further the perfection of religious life in
the Carmelite order, of which we may say that it is the
most perfect of all, as will be seen from the tenor of the
Rule; and in order that everything may be done with
due humility and obedience we ordain that no convent
shall be founded unless in virtue of the permission and
blessing of the bishop to be obtained previously as is
prescribed by the holy Council (of Trent) etc'

What must have been the feelinfs of Rubeo when,
in the course of the year 1574 he became cognisant of
the fact that the two points against which he had
intended to guard himself â€” the foundation of convents
without his consent, particularly in Andalucia, and the
establishment of a new Congregation â€” had been disregarded, can easily be imagined. Hitherto he had
favoured the Reform and done everything in his power
to support S. Teresa's holy undertaking; she, with the
approval of Father Peter Fernandez had kept him fully
informed of her doings and had never failed to apply to
him when the necessity arose; but the Visitor apostolic
of Andalucia, Fray Francisco de Vargas, had not shown
the same delicacy of feeling, neither had his sub-delegates
treated the General with due respect. Thus it came to
pass that when the chapter of 1575 assembled Rubeo
had before him the complaints of the Andalusians but
no report from the Discalced Carmelites, neither was
there any official representative present who â€” even if
personally not favourably disposed towards the Reform â€”
would at least have given a true account of what
had happened. As it was Rubeo placed before the chapter
a copy of his patents and instructions, which we have
seen, and in which the salient passages are underlined so
as to show the divergence of his permissions and instructions from the work actually carried out in Andalucia.
We have now to explain how this came to pass.

In August 1569, His Holiness S. Pius V made two
Dominican friars visitors apostolic for four years of the
Spanish Carmelites â€” Fray Pedro Fernandez visitor of
Castille, and Fray Francisco de Vargas visitor of Andalucia.
Their authority was different from that of the general of
the order, because they were the delegates of the Sovereign
Pontiff, and that was the reason why they considered
themselves entitled to overlook the authority of the
general during the progress of the reform. S. Teresa
had received permission from the general to found only
two monasteries of friars, but in the province of Castille,
and not in Andalucia. As the visitors apostolic were not
bound by that prohibition, nor were the friars, these were
now subject to visitors by a decree of the Sovereign
Pontiff. The visitors had instructions to correct and
amend what was amiss, and, being desirous to reform the
order, they not only did not regard that prohibition, but
encouraged the growth of the reform of S. Teresa. So
when Duruelo and Pastrana had been founded, whereby
the powers which the general had given to S. Teresa
were exhausted, the apostolic visitors threw their sickle
into the harvest, and the foundations of Granada and
Penuela were made before their commission expired.
Alcala de Henares had been founded with the consent
of the general. The friars of the old observance were
more or less jealous, but they bore for a time with seeming patience what many of them regarded as innovations,
if not as something worse.

The prior of Pastrana, the second house of the reform,
was Baltasar of Jesus, Nieto. He had quitted the old
observance for the primitive rule. As he was originally
from the province of Andalucia, the visitor apostolic there,
Fray Francisco de Vargas, wrote to him and begged him
to return to Andalucia, there to begin the reform. Fray
Baltasar could not do so at the time, and the visitor was
satisfied with the reasons he gave. But not long after
one of the friars in Pastrana, Fray Diego de Santa Maria
â€” he too had been once a friar of the old observance â€”
was sent to Granada, his native place, on some affair of
the order, and with him, as his fellow, Fray Ambrose of
S. Peter, not yet ordained priest. The two friars, when
they arrived in Cordova, presented themselves, as they
were bound to do, before their superior. Fray Francisco
de Vargas, the visitor apostolic and prior of the
Dominicans there. By him they were told that they
were under his authority â€” they were in his province â€” and
that he would employ them in founding a house of barefooted friars in Andalucia. Fray Diego represented his
case as well as he could, and begged the visitor not to
force him to do an act which would be regarded as a
wrong to his superior, the apostolic visitor in Castille,
with whose leave, for quite other ends, he had come into
the province of Andalucia. Father Vargas said he would
arrange the matter with his brother visitor, and Fray
Diego must remain under his obedience, and begin the
reform of S. Teresa within his jurisdiction. He offered
the two friars either of two houses of the old observance
to be used for the purpose, and they, thus compelled,
accepted the smaller of the two, San Juan del Puerto.
The house was given up to them by the provincial of the
order, Fray Agustin Suarez, and was taken possession of
in due form in the end of October, or in the beginning
of November, 1572, S. Teresa being at the time prioress
of the Incarnation in Avila.

In the next year, 1573, Fray Baltasar of Jesus, prior
of Pastrana, went to Andalucia with the leave of his provincial, Fray Angel de Salazar. The prince Ruy Gomez,
duke of Pastrana, being in the secret, had applied to the
provincial for the permission; he had some matter to
communicate to his son-in-law, the duke of Medina
Sidonia, and wished Fray Baltasar to be his messenger.
Fray Baltasar therefore went with the prince to Illescas,
whither the latter proceeded in order to fulfil avow made
in his late illness, and from that place sent to Pastrana
and Altomira for those fathers there who had abandoned
the mitigation for the reform, and sent them by two and
two together, to avoid suspicion, to Andalucia, and with
directions to remain apart as if they knew nothing of the
others. Meanwhile he and Fray Gabriel of the Conception
went together to Granada, where they were well received.
The apostolic visitor was glad to see them, and gave
them a house hitherto possessed by the friars of the
mitigation.

Fray Francisco de Vargas, the visitor, having Fray
Baltasar within his jurisdiction at last, transferred to him
the powers he had received from the Holy See, and made
him visitor in his place, with authority over all the houses
of the reform made or to be made in Andalucia; he also
gave him power to receive novices, but none of them
were to belong to the old observance without the consent
of the provincial. This was done, 28th April 1573, and
on 19th May and 29th June, the two houses of Granada
and Penuela were founded in the province of Andalucia.

Now, the friars of the old observance were not a little
troubled at these proceedings; two of their own houses
had been taken from them, and given to certain of their
brethren, who were by the lives they led reproaching
them with laxness, and whom, therefore, they considered,
on the whole, as wanting in prudence. They had themselves grown old in the order under the mitigated rule, and
disliked the changes which were made. They complained,
and their complaints could not be kept secret from the
visitor apostolic. Fray Francisco de Vargas saw that
their complaining was not wholly unreasonable, and,
thinking of that some of their vexation might be lessened
by bringing into Andalucia friars who had never made
profession under the relaxed observance, asked Fray
Mariano of S. Benedict â€” his letter to him is dated
20th May 1573 â€” to come to Andalucia, bringing with
him certain friars who had made their profession in the
reform, and who therefore did not belong to the old
observance. The visitor believed that the friars who
had abandoned the mitigation for the reform were less
esteemed by their brethren whom they had forsaken than
the new friars, and that the latter would win by their
conduct that esteem and reverence which the former had
lost.

Fray Mariano, when he received the visitor's letter,
was in Madrid, in attendance on Ruy Gomez, who was on
his deathbed. They were old friends, and when the
news of that illness was brought to Peiiuela, where Fray
Baltasar was detained by certain matters to be settled
there, he hastened to Madrid, and met Fray Mariano
there, discharging those duties which Fray Baltasar would
have had to discharge if he had not been so far away.
Fray Mariano consented, and made his preparations for
the journey to Andalucia, and chose for his companion
Fray Jerome of the Mother of God (Gratian), who had
made his profession in Pastrana 28th March of that year.

Fray Baltasar did not intend to return to Andalucia, and
went back from Madrid to his own house of Pastrana,
where, on the 4th of August, he transferred to Fray. Jerome, the companion of Mariano, the powers he had
received from the apostolic visitor. Fray Francisco de
Vargas. But, as Fray Baltasar was not visitor of Castille,
he could not send his delegate to Andalucia, who in
Castille was under the jurisdiction of Fray Pedro
Fernandez, the visitor of the order in that province.
Fray Mariano had some affairs of his own to look after
in Andalucia, which he had not settled when he entered
the order in 1569, and now wished to do what he had
not done then: this became a reason for asking of his
superior permission to go to Andalucia. It was not
thought prudent to inform the visitor of Castille of that
which was about to be done, for he would never consent
to allow the friars Mariano and Jerome of the Mother of
God to leave his province: he was also unwilling to
found more houses, because he wished to strengthen and
improve those already founded, rather than waste, as he
considered it, the means provided for that end.

Under these conditions Fray Mariano applied to the
provincial, Fray Angel de Salazar, for leave to go to
Andalucia, giving as his reason, which was certainly true,
the necessity of arranging some affairs of his own, but
saying nothing of the other reason â€” the propagation of
the reform in Andalucia. Fray Angel, having no
suspicion of any other purpose, readily consented, thinking also perhaps that, as Fray Mariano was only a
layman at this time, the friars would hardly send him on
any mission of importance, even though he was to go in
company with another friar. The provincial had been
asked to allow him to chose a companion, and that also
the provincial allowed, without inquiring who that
companion was to be.

The licence of the provincial thus obtained, Fray
Jerome of the Mother of God and Fray Mariano left in
the beginning of September 1573, when S. Teresa was in
Salamanca. They made their way to Toledo to see Fray
Antonio of Jesus, Fray Antonio, though of the reform
of S. Teresa, was then prior of the Carmelite monastery
there of the old observance, having been appointed to
that office by the visitor apostolic, Fray Pedro Fernandez.
They were detained there because Fray Antonio was at
the time absent from his monastery making arrangements
for the house which was founded in Almodovar in 1575.
While staying there Fray Mariano received the commandment of the father-general to be ordained; he tried to
excuse himself â€” he had entered the order intending to
remain a lay brother â€” but Fray Jerome persuaded him
to obey, and accordingly, having received the minor
orders, he was made sub-deacon on Ember Saturday.
The two friars now hastened to Andalucia, afraid of being
overtaken by a messenger from the provincial, who, they
thought, might suspect their purpose as soon as he heard
of the ordination of Fray Mariano. They arrived safely
in Granada, and presented themselves before the visitor
apostolic, Fray Francisco de Vargas, Dominican provincial. The heart of the visitor was made glad by their
arrival, and by the ordination of Fray Mariano. He
observed them narrowly for a tew days, and then,
convinced by what he had seen, that Fray Jerome had
great gifts which ought to be used in the service of the
order, and for the greater glory of God who had given
them to him, he made him his own delegate and
substitute, vesting him with all the powers which he had
himself received from the Sovereign Pontiff. Accordingly Fray Jerome became, not the visitor and superior
of the friars of the reform only, as was Fray Baltasar, but of
the friars of the mitigation also, in the province of Andalucia.
Fray Jerome resisted with all his might at first, but he
yielded in the end, and Fray Mariano, whom in Toledo
he had persuaded to receive holy orders, now, by way of
retribution, urged him to accept the burden. He submitted to the visitor, but it was agreed between them
that for the present the matter should be kept secret.
The secret could not be long kept, for Fray Angel de
Salazar's suspicions had been roused by the ordination of
Fray Mariano, and his choice of Fray Jerome as his
companion. The two friars therefore received an order
while in Granada to return forthwith to Pastrana, under
pain of being held as disobedient and rebellious friars.
They replied to the provincial that they were ready and
willing to obey, but could not, because they were under
the jurisdiction of the visitor of Andalucia: in fact. Fray
Jerome was now above the provincial of Castille, and no
longer subject to his authority, but for the present he
refrained from saying so.

The friars of the old observance knew nothing of the
delegation of the authority of the visitor, who, to make
matters safe, and to insure Fray Jerome in his dignity,
gave him also the original letters of the Pope. Armed
therewith. Fray Jerome and Fray Mariano went to
Seville, and were well received in the house of the friars
of the mitigation, where Fray Vincent of the Trinity was
prior. There they met the provincial of Andalucia, Fray
Agustin Suarez, to whom Fray Jerome showed his
commission from the visitor to govern the friars of the
reform, but not his commission to visit and reform the
friars of the mitigation: of that he said nothing. He
then told the provincial that he meant to restore at once
the house of San Juan del Puerto to those who held it
before the visitor gave it to the reform. The provincial
was glad, for the old friars had been greatly hurt by that
act of the visitor, and the restitution was made on the
feast of S. Luke, I 8th October, and on the evening of the
22nd Fray Jerome brought the friars of the reform
to Seville. They were lodged in the house of the old
observance, and joined in all the acts of the community as
brethren. Hitherto the peace between the two families
had not been openly broken.

Fray Jerome in Seville was not, however, altogether a
welcome guest in the house of the old observants,
who soon began to murmur, and then to find fault with
the reform: the change was an offence to them: some
felt it as a reproach, while many certainly admired what
they did not think themselves bound to practise. Difficulties arose, for they could not be hindered among the
brethren whose habits were different, and Fray Mariano
urged Fray Jerome to provide a separate house for
the friars of the reform. The archbishop of Seville,
knowing what was going on, offered Fray Jerome a part
of his palace, but Fray Jerome would not do anything by
which the dissension might become known too soon, and
therefore would not leave the monastery till he had found
a house for his friars. This was done, with the help and
consent of the archbishop, and possession of it was taken,
but secretly, 5th January 1574, on the eve of the
Epiphany.

Fray Jerome ordered his friars to make their way
two and two, and as secretly as possible, to the house he
had chosen; and then, on the eve of the Epiphany,
the steward of the archbishop, in the presence of a notary,
delivered the keys of it to Fray Jerome, and went
his way. The friars occupied themselves forthwith in
arranging the house, and were thus busy till it was time
to say matins; everything was then ready, and mass was
sung on the feast of the Kings.

On that very day the discontent of the old friars in
Seville broke out: the prior and the provincial were
blamed for allowing the new house to be founded, but the
prior and the provincial knew nothing of it, neither could
they have hindered it, for Fray Jerome was the superior
of both, and had authority to do what he had done.
They felt it very keenly, for a monastery of the same
order founded close to their own showed that there was
something wrong, and they knew that the blame would
not be thrown wholly on the friars of the reform. They
resolved to send some of themselves to Fray Jerome to
ask the meaning of his act, and the two friars deputed
for the purpose were the sub-prior and Fray Diego de
Leon, who was now bishop of the Isles in Scotland. He
was at this time staying with his brethren in Seville, for
he had been, and was still, a friar of that house. The two
friars went forth on the feast of the Epiphany, and
represented their grievance to Fray Jerome; they asked
him how he could without the leave of the provincial
found another house; besides, he had not shown that he
had any authority for his proceedings, and the fathers of
the order were very much hurt thereat.

To these Fray Jerome made answer that he had
authority to do what he had done, and they too must
know it, for they acknowledged it when he gave them
back the monastery of San Juan del Puerto, and when
they accepted it at his hands: however, if they had any
misgivings on the subject they could go to the archbishop,
who had his instructions in his hands: he could not show
them himself for that reason, but the provincial and other
fathers knew what they were, and were satisfied with them
in the affair of the monastery out of which he had taken
the friars of the reform to be replaced by those of the
old observance.

The two religious were silenced, but they were not at
their ease, and nothing further was done. Fray Jerome
remained with his own friars in their new house, and for
the present seemed to have no other object than to watch
over the progress of it in the spiritual life. The archbishop appointed him a preacher in the cathedral, wherein
also he preached the Lenten sermons in 1575.

S. Teresa was at this time in Salamanca preparing for
the foundation in Segovia, which was made on the feast
of S. Joseph, 19th March, I 574. In Holy Week, because
of the strange conduct of the princess of Eboli, she
dissolved her monastery in Pastrana, and removed her
nuns to Segovia. Having established her monastery
there, she returned to Avila on the 1st of October, to the
monastery of the Incarnation, of which she was prioress.

On the 6th of October the three years were over during which she was to be, and had been, prioress of the
monastery of the Incarnation. She resigned her office,
but the nuns, though not all, wished to re-elect her;
the provincial would not allow them, and the Saint herself
resisted with her whole heart, for she wished to return to
S. Joseph's. She did return, and there the nuns, glad to
receive her, elected her prioress. She was now for the
second time chosen prioress of the house she had founded
with so much trouble. Shortly after the election she
went to Valladolid, her presence being desirable on
account of Dona Casilda, whose story is told in chps, x. and
xi. In the beginning of January she returned to Avila,
and made preparation for the foundation in Veas, not
knowing nor even suspecting that the town was within
the province of Andalucia. Here she heard from the
bishop of Avila that the inquisitors were searching for
her book â€” her Life written by herself. Meanwhile
complaints had been carried to the general, and the reform was spoken of as a great evil. The general, theretore, unable to withstand his subjects, obtained from His
Holiness Gregory XIII, on the 3rd of August of this
year 1574, the recall of the powers given to the two
Dominican friars who were visitors of Castille and Andalucia; but he did not put the papal letters in execution
at once, reserving their publication for the next general
chapter to be held in Piacenza. The existence of the
papal letters, however, became known in Spain; and the
nuncio, Monsignore Ormaneto, who had the reform of
Carmel greatly at heart, and whose powers were not
touched by the brief of recall, made Fray Francisco de
Vargas and Fray Jerome of the Mother of God visitors
jointly of Andalucia. But he first of all sent to Rome
for his greater security, and there learnt from the secretary
of His Holiness that none of his powers were withdrawn.

His commission to the two friars was signed on the 22nd
of September, within two months of the issue of the brief by
which the faculties of the visitors had been recalled. The
nuncio meant to give more authority still to Fray Jerome,
and this became known to some one of his friends or
kindred, who sent word of it to him in Seville, and
advised him to come to Madrid. Fray Jerome was not
able to leave his monastery before Easter 1575, because
of the duties he had there to discharge, as well as in the
cathedral church; but after Easter he set out and arrived
in Veas, when he saw S. Teresa, who was very much
surprised when she heard from him that she was then in
the province of Andalucia. She had never intended to
make any foundations in that province, because the
general had expressly forbidden her. However, she was
now in Andalucia, and as such subject to Fray Jerome,
its visitor, who laid his commands upon her, and bade
her found a monastery in Seville, while she herself had
resolved to make a foundation in Madrid.

Fray Jerome went from Veas, where a messenger from
the nuncio found him, to Madrid, and there was made,
3rd August 1575, visitor of the province of Andalucia,
and at the same time superior of the friars of the reform
both in Andalucia and Castille; he was henceforth called
the provincial of the barefooted Carmelites, thereby receiving full authority from the nuncio to propagate the
reform in both provinces. He now proceeded to visit
the new houses, gave constitutions to the friars â€” the
nuns were in possession of those given by the Saint â€” and
settled the affairs of the order as well as he could, preparing the way, though perhaps not intending it, for the
separation of the reform of S. Teresa from the old observance of the mitigation.

While Fray Jerome of the Mother of God was making
his visitation the Saint went to Seville, and with much
toil and labour made her foundation there on the feast of
the Most Holy Trinity, 29th May 1575.

From Seville she wrote a long letter to the general of
the order explaining the mistake she had made in going
to Veas, and making excuses for Fray Jerome and Fray
Mariano. Perhaps she was not altogether pleased with
what had been done.

I send to your paternity a letter about the foundation
in Veas and the request made for a foundation in Caravaca. ... I also informed your paternity of the reasons
why I came to make a foundation in Seville. ... I should
also like you to know that I made many inquiries when I
went to Veas whether it was in Andalucia or not, for I
never meant to go to that province. Veas certainly is
not in Andalucia, but in ecclesiastical matters it does belong
to that province. It was more than a month after the
foundation had been made that I knew of this. When I
found myself with the nuns I thought it would not be
well to abandon the monastery, and that was one reason
also for my coming to this place; but that which weighed
most with me was that which I gave to your paternity,
namely, to look into this affair of these fathers. They
give good reasons for what they have done, and certainly
I can see nothing in them but a wish to be your true
children, and to give you no annoyance: still, for all that,
I cannot regard them as blameless. They now see that
it would have been better if they had taken another
course, so as to give no offence to your paternity. We
have great discussions, especially Mariano and myself,
who is of a quick temper, while Gratian is like an angel:
so if he had been alone things would have been differently
done. It was Fray Baltasar, prior of Pastrana, who made
him come hither. I may say it to your paternity, if you
knew him you would be glad to have him for your son.
I verily believe him to be one, and Fray Mariano
also."

But on 22nd May, the general of Carmel held a chapter
of the whole order in Piacenza, within the duchy of
Parma; the papal brief recalling the powers of the visitors
was published, and the suppression of the unauthorised
convents was decreed by the assembled fathers, who
ordered the removal of the barefooted Carmelites trom
three houses they had in Andalucia, allowing them to
remain in those foundations which had been made by
authority of the father-general." Fray Jerome Tostado, a
Portuguese, was commissioned to execute the decree, who
accordingly came to Spain, a resolute and serious man,
fully bent on the ruin of the new Carmel."

Before the decrees of the general chapter were brought
to Spain Fray Jerome of the Mother of God went to
Seville, 21st November 1575, where the Saint was still
living, and proceeded to execute the commission of the
nuncio. It was a work full of danger, and the Saint was
greatly alarmed (Rel. ix. 27), for the friars in Seville
were not likely to yield obedience to Fray Jerome, who
was young in the order, and even in years. Nor did
they: they disputed his powers and denounced him as
a rebel against the lawful authority of the general.
Fray Jerome was patient, and at last the sub-prior of the
house yielded; then by degrees the other friars throughout the province.

Towards the end of the year, a little before Christmas,
'there was brought to me,' saith the Saint (ch. xxvii. 18),
'from the general chapter, which I think ought to have
highly considered the increase of the order, a decree,
made by the deputies assembled, enjoining me not only
to make no more foundations, but also on no account
whatever to leave the house I should choose to dwell in,
which was something like sending me to prison.' This
decree was brought to her by order of Fray Angel de
Salazar, provincial of Castille. It is probable enough
that Fray Angel, who had known her long, may have
considered the proceedings of his superiors somewhat
harsh, though he could not say so, for he sent her word
at the same time that she could appeal to the Pope.
That the Saint would not do: she said she preferred
obedience to everything else, and would submit at once.
Fray Jerome told her that there was no necessity for
instant obedience, and, as the winter had set in, he bade
her stay in Seville for the present. She did so, and left
it for Toledo, the place she had chosen to dwell in, 4th
June 1576.

On the 12th of May a chapter of the friars of the
mitigation was held in Moraleja, and decrees were inade
in it which could have no other issue but the suppression
of the reform, Fray Jerome Tostado being now in Spain,
about to execute the decrees of the chapter of Piacenza.
The reformed friars also met, called together by Fray
Jerome of the Mother of God, as their provincial, in
Almodovar, 8 th August, where they, on their part, did
what they could to save themselves from ruin. But
Fray Jerome of the Mother of God, when he went
to Seville from Almodovar, saw all his work there
undone by the provincial of the mitigation. Fray
Agustin Suarez had resumed his authority, had removed
the priors appointed by Fray Jerome, and had restored
his province nearly to the state it was in when he was
compelled to withdraw the year before. The great
monastery of Seville, therefore, on the arrival of Fray
Jerome, was in open rebellion against the visitor apostolic
â€” the friars had recovered their former courage, and
now disputed his authority: however, he prevailed, and
as the archbishop was on his side the friars once more
were compelled to obey the visitor apostolic. But soon
afterwards Fray Jerome was called to Madrid on the
affairs of his order, and then the friars, glad to recover
their liberty, and no longer afraid of him, begged the
provincial, Fray Agustin Suarez, to resume his office and
take upon himself once more the government of the
house. Fray Agustin consented, and again undid the
work of Fray Jerome. Then there arose a cry against
S. Teresa and Fray Jerome â€” against the barefooted
friars and the nuns, against all that had been done in the
order â€” such as had never before been heard. The
storm had burst at last, and the order of Carmel was in
confusion.

In the following year, 1577, Monsignor Ormaneto,
friendly to the reform, died, and the friars of the
mitigation, in the belief that the commission of Fray
Jerome was thereby suspended, renewed their strength,
and, assured of victory as they thought, laid their hands
heavily on their brethren of the reform. Fray Jerome
Tostado the vicar-general began to execute his commission in earnest, and the barefooted friars literally hid
themselves till the fury of the storm should abate.
S. Teresa came to Avila in September, and begged the
king to help her and her order. Don Philip did so, but
probably not in the way the Saint meant, for he took
upon himself to forbid the vicar of the general the
exercise of his lawful functions. Meanwhile the new
nuncio, Monsignore Sega, arrived, and took the matter
into his own hands. He was, unhappily, fully persuaded
that right and justice were wholly with the friars of the
mitigation, and that Fray Jerome and S. Teresa were
rebellious subjects in need of restraint and correction.
He sent for Fray Jerome, and demanded the commission
which the late nuncio had given him.

It seems that before this the king had consulted the
lawyers, who told him that the commission held by Fray
Jerome had not under the circumstances ceased to be
valid, notwithstanding the death of the nuncio who had
granted it, and that, therefore, the visitation of the
order, which had been begun, might be continued to the
end. The Saint herself thus writes on the subject: â€”
' We thought it quite clear that on the death of the last
nuncio the visitation [of the province by Fray Jerome]
was put a stop to; but the theologians and lawyers of
Alcala and Toledo were consulted and they said " No,"
on the ground that it had been begun, and that it had to
be finished notwithstanding the nuncio's death; but if
it had not been begun, then certainly the powers of the
visitor died with the nuncio,' ' Monsignore Sega had
no occasion for considering the question at all; so he
asked Fray Jerome, as his superior, to resign his
authority, just as the late nuncio might have done.
The friar unhappily took counsel that was not the best,
and refused the nuncio's request, and that refusal of
Fray Jerome to resign his authority into his hands
confirmed him in his opinion that the friars of the reform
were really rebels against the authority of their general.
He waited till the king's council decided against
Fray Jerome Tostado, who went back to Rome, and then,
seeing that there was no visitor of the order in Spain, as
nuncio appointed friars of the old observance to be
visitors of the new.

He now summoned the friars of the reform to submit
and own his authority, and sent his representatives to
Pastrana, where most of them were assembled, to receive
their submission. For a moment it was doubtful
whether the friars would yield; some of them were for
resistance, but Fray Jerome happily took better advice
than that of lawyers, and retired to his cell with a saintly
brother, whose advice he asked, and whose advice he
took. He then re-assembled the fathers, and told them
to obey the nuncio; he did so himself, gave up at once
all his faculties, and whatever letters he had received
from the late nuncio, and submitted absolutely to the
authority of Monsignore Sega, whom he had so lately
treated with scant respect.

Fray Jerome went back to Madrid with two of his
brethren. Fray Antonio and Fray Mariano, who were
pillars of the reform, and presented himself humbly
before the nuncio. Their submission pleased him, but
he could not leave their consciousness unpunished.
He deprived them of their faculties, and would not let
them even hear mass for a time. Fray Jerome was sent
to the Carmel of Madrid as a prisoner, Fray Antonio of
Jesus to the barefooted Franciscans, and Fray Mariano
to the Dominicans of our Lady of Atocha. Soon after
Fray Juan de Jesus came to Madrid, and was ordered to
prison by the nuncio.

Monsignore Sega, with the best intentions, and in the
right, for he did nothing that he was not justified in
doing, brought the reform of S. Teresa to the very edge
of the precipice. He was the delegate of the Pope, and
was, moreover, carrying out accurately the decrees of the
general chapter of the order, as well as executing the
undoubted wishes of the general. It is to the credit of
Don Philip and his government that, though most
anxious to see the reform grow and prosper, they used
neither force nor fraud in the matter, but allowed the
nuncio to do his will according to the law.

It was in December of this year that S. John of the
Cross, who had been left as confessor of the nuns of the
Incarnation, was seized by night and carried away to
prison in the Carmelite monastery of Toledo, where he
was most cruelly dealt with, and was not allowed to
make known to any of his brethren where he was
detained.

In the sore straits to which they had been reduced,
the friars whom the nuncio had punished but after
a time had released from prison took counsel together,
and resolved to do an act which is hardly to be justified.
They remembered that the apostolic visitors appointed
by S. Pius V, Fray Pedro Fernandez and Fray Francisco
de Vargas, had made a decree to the effect that when
their term of office had expired the barefooted friars
might meet in chapter and elect a provincial of their
own. They considered the chapter held in Almodovar
8th Sept. 1576, justified by that decree, and by the
commission which Fray Jerome had received from the
late nuncio. They were now, they thought, brought
into a state in which it was necessary to have recourse to
the powers vested in them by that decree. Being without a superior by the resignation of Fray Jerome of the
Mother of God, who had submitted to the nuncio they
said â€” and herein they were advised by the lawyers â€”
that Fray Antonio of Jesus, who had been elected definitor
in Almodovar, should, as the highest personage among
them, summon another chapter to be held in the same
place.

Fray Antonio unhappily did so, and the chapter was
held in Almodovar, 9th October 1578. S. John of the
Cross, miraculously delivered from prison, came to the
chapter, but he earnestly dissuaded his brethren from the
course they were about to take. Notwithstanding his
entreaties they elected Fray Antonio their provincial. But
before the chapter was dissolved Fray Juan of Jesus came
in from Madrid, and vehemently urged upon the chapter
the wrongfulness of its act. He told his brethren that they
could not plead the decree of the visitors, on which they
relied, because they had renounced every right to
a separate government when Fray Jerome submitted to
the nuncio. He begged them to undo what they had
done, but they, by way of reply, had him confined to his
cell for a month, that he might not go back to Madrid
and denounce to the nuncio what they had so unwisely
done.

Fray Antonio and his brethren, not without grave
misgivings however, then returned to Madrid, and told
the nuncio what they had done. Monsignore Sega was
extremely displeased and extremely angry; he annulled
their acts, and ordered them all into prison again, and
excommunicated every one who had taken any part in
the chapter of Almodovar. He ordered S. Teresa, as
the fount of all the disorders in Carmel, to remain as a
close prisoner in Toledo, and on the i6th October 1578
commanded all the friars of the reform to submit in
everything to the prelates of the mitigation. The friars
whom he sent forth to execute his decree did so with a
good will, and the reform was on the very point of being
crushed. Even the monasteries of the nuns were visited,
and the discipline in them changed, while S. Teresa could
not help any of her children, and to human eyes all her
work was utterly undone.

In the early part of the next year (1579) the sun rose
again on the Carmel of the reform. Monsignore Sega,
who was in perfect good faith throughout the whole of
his harsh proceedings, in proof of his sincerity and fair
dealing offered to accept four assessors who should be
witnesses of his acts; that offer was accepted, and the
result was that the nuncio's eyes were opened to 'the
groundlessness of the charges which the friars of the
mitigation had brought against their brethren. He
had come to Spain prejudiced against the reform, and
had hitherto looked at everything in the light of that
prejudice. Now, in consultation with the four assessors,
he saw at once that he had been misled. He offered
instantly, and without hesitation, to redress the wrongs
he had unwittingly, but most conscientiously, wrought,
and on the 1st of April 1579, recalled the commissions
he had granted to the friars of the old observance,
granting authority at the same time to Fray Angel de
Salazar over all the friars and nuns of the reform throughout Castille and Andalucia. Fray Angel, though himself
of the old observance, was not unfriendly to the reform,
and wept for joy at the sight of the holy and austere lives
led therein. He could not visit Andalucia in person
because of his failing health, but he made Fray Jerome of
the Mother of God, then prior of Seville, his delegate
there, and in every way favoured the reform of S. Teresa,
whom he had known so long.

Having been thus far delivered from the dangers that
threatened to overwhelm them, the friars of the reform,
resolved, with the agreement of the assessors of the
nuncio, that it was desirable to sever themselves trom the
friars of the mitigation, but to continue nevertheless
under the same general. The nuncio after some hesitation,
for he had another plan, consented â€” it was on the 15th
of July of this year â€” and Fray Juan de Jesus was sent to
Rome to arrange the conditions of the new order. It
was a work of some difficulty, but it was done, and the
Sovereign Pontiff, Gregory XIII, in a brief dated 22nd
June 1580, confirmed and sanctioned the severance of the
mitigation from the reform. All the friars and all the
nuns under the primitive rule and of the reform of
S. Teresa were to form one province under a provincial
of their own, but under the father-general of the whole
order.

In 1581, by order of His Holiness, the priors of the
reform were summoned to Alcala de Henares by the
apostolic commissary Fray Juan Velasquez de las Cuevas,
prior of the Dominican monastery in Talavera. The
monition was issued 1st Feb. 15S1, and the fathers
assembled in Alcala on the 3rd March, when the final
severance of the old friars and the new was published in
due form. On the 6th Fray Juan held a chapter for the
election of the provincial, in which the fathers were
divided between Fray Jerome of the Mother of God and
Fray Antonio of Jesus, the first who professed the reform.
The former was elected, but he had only one voice in his
favour more than Fray Antonio had. He had been
elected provincial in the chapter of Almodovar, and the
fathers probably did not wish to be unfriendly to him
now.

S. Teresa was at the time in Palencia making her
foundation there; even before the separation she had
resumed her work, for Fray Angel de Salazar, whom the
nuncio had set over the reform, had given her leave, in
January 1580, to found a monastery in Villanueva de la
Jara. Throughout the persecution, even when her work
was on the point of being undone, and when Fray Jerome
and others were almost without hope, the Saint never
lost her confidence in God. In 1577, when the nuncio
Monsignore Ormaneto was dead, and the new nuncio
was so angry with her, and thought so ill both of her and
of her work, she wrote, by direction of Fray Jerome, the
Interior Castle beginning it on the feast of the Most Holy
Trinity, 2nd June, and finishing it in Avila about the end
of November in the same year.

Don Diego de Yepes, one of her biographers, says that
he saw her in Toledo when the storm was most violent,
and when Fray Mariano was losing heart, and Fray Jerome
almost despairing of success. He found the former
one day with the Saint speaking of their troubles,
and reading a letter from Fray Jerome, discouraging and
sad: the Saint was not troubled in the slightest degree,
and after a moment or two said, ' We have much to suffer,
but the order will not be destroyed.' She had nothing to
reproach herself with, for she had always acted under
obedience. She had never once done anything which
she was not bound to do. The father-general of the
order had bidden her make ' as many foundations as she
had hairs on her head '; and if she went to Andalucia
against his will, though that is doubtful, it was not her
fault, for she was sent thither by her superior, the
apostolic visitor of Castille, Fray Pedro Fernandez,
Moreover, she did not then know that Veas was in the
province of Andalucia.

Once in Andalucia, she was under the jurisdiction of
Fray Jerome of the Mother of God; and he it was who
sent her to Seville. She could not disobey him, for he
had powers from the nuncio, and was therefore in the
place of the general of the whole order.

The friars, also, were never disobedient in making the
foundations, for the Saint had authority from the general
to found two houses in Castille, which were Duruelo and
Pastrana. The third, Alcala de Henares, was founded
with the general's sanction, asked for and obtained by
Don Ruy Gomez, duke of Pastrana, who was a friend of
the order and of the Saint. The other foundations were
made with the consent and approval of the apostolic
visitors, both in Castille and Andalucia. It is true
the general forbade any foundations to be made in the
latter province, but that prohibition was not binding on
the Pope, and therefore not on those who wielded his
authority over the friars o Carmel. The first chapter
held in Almodovar was held by lawful authority, but the
second, held in October 1578, was not justified in the
eyes of S, John of the Cross and Fray Juan of Jesus.
Others, too, may have disapproved of it, but kept silence
for the sake of peace.

The reform of S. Teresa was now established with the
approbation of the Sovereign Pontiff. The order was
under the immediate government of Fray Jerome of the
Mother of God, in whom she had perfect confidence,
but in whom the friars, who owed everything to her, had
very little. The great work was done which she never
contemplated when she founded the monastery of
S. Joseph, and which was brought about, in a certain
sense, against her wish, for she never intended to found
an order. Her labours were not over when peace was
made between the friars of the mitigation and those of the
reform, for she founded monasteries in Soria and Burgos,
and sent Anne of Jesus with S. John of the Cross to
make the foundation in Granada. As her days were
drawing to a close her labours increased, for she was
compelled to go from one monastery to another, settling
what required settling, without rest, till she reached Alba
de Tormes, 20th September 1582, being then on the
point of death. Fray Dominic Banes, her confessor, used
to say that he longed to see her in her grave, because of
the great risks to which such perfect holiness as hers was
constantly exposed. The time was now come, and on
the eve of the feast of S. Francis, lover of poverty, the
Saint begged that she might receive the viaticum, having
made her confession the day before to Fray Antonio of
Jesus, the first friar of her reform. Fray Jerome was
absent from the province at the time, and Fray Antonio
was there as his vicar, and the superior of the Saint.
While the viaticum was being brought to her cell she said
to the nuns around her, ' O my children and my
mistresses (senoras) forgive me the bad example I give
you; do not take me for your teacher, for I have been
the greatest sinner in the world, and the worst observer of
the rule and constitutions. I entreat you, my children,
for the love of God, to keep them perfectly, and to be
obedient to your superiors.' Then the Most Holy
Sacrament was brought into her cell, and she, who since
her illness had become so severe had been unable to move
in her bed, rose up without help from any one, and said,
O my Lord, the longed for hour has come at last: now
we shall see one another. O my Lord, it is time to go.
Thy will be done. The hour of my departure from
exile is come, when my soul shall be glad in Thee.'
Then, as if pleading for herself, she added, 'But I am a
child of the Church.' She repeated further some of the
verses of the Miserere and received our Lord into her
soul.

This was about five o'clock on the 3rd of October;
about nine she asked for the last Sacrament, and made
the responses, and again gave God thanks that she was a
child of the Catholic Church. Then Fray Antonio asked
her whether she was to be buried in Avila, of which
monastery she was the prioress, or in Alba de Tormes.
She answered, as if the question had been displeasing to
her, ' Can I have anything of my own ? Will they not
give me here a little earth ? ' The night was painful, and
at seven o'clock the next morning, on the feast of S. Francis,
she began to lie on one side, with her head on the shoulders
of the Venerable Anne of S, Bartholomew, and the crucifix
in her hand; she remained so for fourteen hours, insensible
to all that passed around her, absorbed in God in her last
ecstasy. Between nine and ten o'clock that night God
took her to Himself for ever.

The Book of the Foundations was written at different
times. It was begun in Salamanca, 24th Aug. 1573, by
the order of father Ripalda, S.J., her confessor at the
time. She seems to have written twenty chapters without
much interruption. Then, when she was, as it were,
imprisoned in Toledo by order of the general, after the
foundation of Seville was made, she was commanded by
Fray Jerome of the Mother of God to continue her
writing. She obeyed, beginning with ch. xxi., and brought
her work down to the end of ch. xxvii., which she
finished on the vigil of S. Eugenius, 14th Nov. 1576.
The rest of the book was probably written as each
foundation was made.

Fray Luis de Leon at the request of Ven. Anne of Jesus
and the Superiors of the Discalced Carmelites published
the writings of the Saint in the year 1588, in Salamanca,
but without the Book of the Foundations. The Saint had
been dead only six years, and it is probable enough that
some hesitation might be felt about printing a book in
which people then living were spoken of; but in 1610
the former, then prioress at Brussels, undertook, with
the assistance of Father Jerome Gratian, then also in
Flanders, the publication of this important work, which
appeared in that year at Roger Velpius, and Hubert
Antoine's at Brussels. In addition to the text of the
Saint â€” with which, however. Father Gratian had taken
undue liberties â€” it contains the relation of the foundation
of the convent of Granada by Ven. Anne of Jesus, and
some other documents. But there was also a notable
omission. Dona Casilda de Padilla whose history
Saint Teresa had told so strikingly in Chapters X and XI
was then still living, though no longer among the Teresian
nuns; she had joined the Poor Clares and was abbess at
Burgos; her sister, too. Dona Luisa de Padilla, having
obtained a dispensation enabling her to recover her
property, and to contract marriage, was still alive. Under
these circumstances it was thought wise to omit all
reference to them with the result that this as well as other
Spanish editions and many translations (for instance, the
English by Canon Dalton) appeared in a mutilated form.
Other editions followed at Saragossa in 1623, by the
Caked Carmelites, at Antwerp in 1630, etc. Mr Lewis
followed that of Vicente de la Fuente (i860). But all
doubts as to the correct text have been finally set at rest
by the publication, in 1880, of the photo-lithographic
edition of the original manuscript which is preserved at
the Escorial together with those of the Life the first version
of the Way of Perfection and the Visitation of 'Nunneries.
In the present edition the text published by Mr Lewis in
1871 has been confronted with the original, and, where
necessary, amended. In England the Book of Foundations
was not known till 1669. At that time there existed
already two translations of the Life and a third one was
in preparation. The translators, Abraham Woodhead
and his anonymous collaborator together with Father Bede
of S. Simon Stock (Walter Joseph Travers) decided to
begin their edition with the Book of Foundations which
appeared under the title

The second Part of the Life of the Holy Mother
St Teresa of Jesus; or, the History of her Foundations. Written by Her Self. Whereunto are
annexed Her Death; Burial; and the Miraculous
Incorruption, and Fragrancy of Her Body. Together
with Her Treatise Of the Manner of Visiting the
Monasteries of Discalced Nuns. Printed in the
Year MDCLXIX.
Although translated from the Spanish it follows the
Italian editions in that it begins by the chapters of the
Life relating to the foundation of the convent of S. Joseph
of Avila, in which are incorporated the Rule and Constitutions of the nuns, and an account of the Deserts or
Hermitages of the friars taken from Don Diego de Yepes,
bishop of Tarassona. The numbering of the chapters
does not agree with the original or with the present
edition, five chapters being taken over from the Life while
two chapters bear the same number. But otherwise the
edition is complete, including the story of Dona Casilda,
and the foundation of Granada.

In 1853, another translation was published by the Very
Reverend John Dalton, canon of Northampton, the title
of which is as follows:

Book of the Foundations. Written by S. Teresa.
Translated from the Spanish by Rev. John Dalton.
Embellished with a portrait of the Saint. London,
1853. Reprinted in 1893.

The latest translation is due to the Rev. Mother
Superior of the Community of the Holy Family, and is
dedicated to Bishop Gore:

Saint Teresa. The History of her foundations.
Translated from the Spanish by Sister Agnes Mason,
C.H.F. with a Preface by the Rt. Hon. Sir E. M.
Satow, G.C.M.G. Cambridge, at the University
Press, 1909.

This elegant and faithful translation is adorned with an
excellent map and beautiful illustrations which, however,
are not always to the point. It does not contain the
foundation of Granada.

A most interesting and valuable work appeared at
Ghent in 1894, under the title L'Espagne theresienne, ou
pelerinage a'un Flamand a toutes les fondatlons de Sainte Therese (also in Spanish, 1898). The author, Mr Hye
Hoys, a painter, while travelling in Spain in 1866, visited
all the foundations made by S. Teresa, collecting sketches
not only of the convents themselves but also of many
objects used by her and religiously preserved as relics. The
work contains thirty engraved plates with explanatory
notes. The present writer who has had the privilege of
seeing most of these convents and visiting the scenes of
S. Teresa's labours can bear testimony to the accuracy of
the designs.

The latest edition of the works of S. Teresa in French
entitled Oeuvres completes de Sainte Terese de Jesus by the
Carmelite nuns of the premier monastere de Paris (now at
Anderlecht near Brussels), 6 vols., Paris, 1907-1910, of
which vols. 3 and 4 are devoted to the Book of Foundations
is particularly valuable account of the abundance of
critical and biographical notes, and a rich collection of
documents, many of which were not previously known.
While freely and gratefully utilising these we have felt it
difficult to resist the temptation of incorporating in this
volume collateral accounts of the labours of the Saint,
and documents illustrative of her trials and troubles.
On the other hand we have drawn on a collection
of documents not hitherto published, made by ourself during a prolonged journey through Italy and
Spain. It will, therefore, be noticed that this second
edition of Mr Lewis' splendid translation is more
accurate and more complete than the first which appeared
in 1871.

The Carmelite Rule is translated and placed in this
volume as it is in the edition of Don Vicente, for the
purpose of throwing light on the Constitutions of the
Saint. The rule was drawn up in the beginning for
friars, not for nuns, and therefore the rule printed in this
volume, as it was taken from the book which Don
Vicente had from the monastery of the venerable Maria
of Jesus in Alcala de Henares, is an adaptation of the rule
of the friars to the condition of nuns. The compiler of
it changed the word ' triars ' into ' nuns,' and, making the
necessary changes in the text, fashioned the rule to the
use of the Carmelite nuns. The preface, however, has
not been changed, and the rule is addressed still to
Brocardo and the friars, while the first paragraph speaks
of nuns. It is probably an oversight that Brocardo is
mentioned again in 15, and that the paragraph remains
unchanged, the words ' office of prior ' not being altered
into ' office of prioress.'

The Constitutions are frequently referred to by the Saint
in the Book of the Foundations and in her letters; and
even on her deathbed she begs her children to observe
them carefully. They must have been written soon after
she began to live in her new house in Avila, for the nuns
in Avila were governed by them, as we learn from her in
her account of the foundation of her second monastery,
which was Medina del Campo. She was directed by our
Lord on one occasion to take the rule and constitutions
with her, and had before that urged them as a difficulty
not to be overcome, when her friend Doha Luisa de la
Cerda seems to have proposed something to her which
she would not sanction nor allow.

The Constitutions printed, in this volume were obtained
by Don Vicente de la Fuente from the monastery of the
Picture in Alcala de Henares, and are said to have been
given by the general of the order in 1568; but that is
clearly not true in the letter. In the first place the Saint
in 1567 speaks of the constitutions as being then in force
in Avila, and in the second place the general of Carmel
had no jurisdiction over the monastery of the venerable
Maria of Jesus in Alcala de Henares. S. Teresa went
in November 1567 to that monastery, and gave it her
own constitutions, which, no doubt, she had shown to the
general when he visited her in Avila in April of that year.
The general, also, approved of them, and ordered them to
be followed in subsequent foundations for he had no
jurisdiction then over that of S. Joseph's at Avila which
was subject to the bishop of the diocese, Don Alvaro de
Mendoza. Perhaps the venerable Maria of Jesus adopted
the constitutions in 1567, when the Saint was there.
The constitutions of that monastery were approved of by
the archduke Albert, cardinal archbishop of Toledo, and
ordered by him to be observed under the penalties
imposed by them, being, as he says, ' the very constitutions
which the Mother Teresa of Jesus, founder of the said
order of barefooted Carmelites, made in her lifetime for
the government of the same.'

Don Vicente has not been able to find the original
MS. of the Saint's constitutions, and has therefore printed
those of the monastery of Alcala, about the genuineness
of which there can be no reasonable doubt.

The Visitation of the Nunneries the manuscript of which
is at the Escorial has been reproduced in photo-lithography
by Don Francisco Herrero-Bayona, Valladolid, 1883. It
appears to have been written in August or September I 576
at the request of Father Jerome-Gratian, then provincial
of the Discalced Carmelites by the authority of the nuncio.

The Relation of the foundation of the convent of
Granada by Ven. Anne of Jesus is printed in Ohras de
Santa Teresa de Jesus edited by Don Vicente de la Fuente,
1881, t. vi, 113, sqq. In translating it we had the
assistance of the Benedictine nuns of Stanbrook, The
Maxims of S. Teresa, which will be found in the first edition of
Mr Lewis' translation of the Book of Foundations, p. 347,
have been transferred to another volume of her works as
they belong to her devotional rather than to her historical
writings.

This introduction is for the most part Mr Lewis' own
work, only such additions having been made (pp. xxiii-xxx)
as were necessitated by the discovery of new documents
which throw fresh light on the story of S. Teresa's
foundations.

Feast of S.Teresa, 1871.
21st March, 1912.

The Book Of The Foundations

Annals Of The Saint's Life

For the earlier part see Life Introduction

1565. â€” Fray Garcia of Toledo directs her to ask leave of
the provincial for the commutation of her vow. The
provincial, Fray Angel de Salazar, empowers Fray
Garcia to do what was necessary.

The Saint is greatly distressed by scruples about
her spiritual state. She applies to the inquisitor
Soto [Relation vii. 8], who recommends her to send
an account of her lite to Juan of Avila. She completes her Life in May or June, and begins the
Fray of Perfection.

1566. â€” The father-general of the order of Carmel, Fray
Juan Bautista Rubeo, arrives in Spain 13th May,
and holds a chapter at Seville.

1567. â€” The general visits the Saint in her monastery,
and receives her back into the order as his subject.
He authorises her to make other foundations of
nuns, and two of friars, 27th April, i6th May and
16th August.

On the feast of the Assumption the Saint founds
a monastery in Medina del Campo where she remains
to the end of October.

That done, she goes to Madrid, and is lodged in
the house of Doha Leonor de Mascarehas [ch. iii].
She left Madrid, 25th November, and went to Alcala
de Henares for the purpose of visiting and settling
the monastery of the venerable Maria of Jesus. She
remains two months in Alcala.

She meditates the foundation of houses of friars of
her reform. Fray Antonio de Hereciia and S. John of
the Cross having offered themselves as a beginning.

She had received the offer of a house near Valladolid from Don Bernardino de Mendoza for a
monastery there, but could not accept it at once, because she had promised to make a foundation in
Malagon.
1568. â€” The General approves the Constitutions of the
nuns. In February she goes to Toledo to her friend
Dona Luisa de la Cerda, the foundress of the house
in Malagon, and in Lent leaves Toledo for Malagon,
where she makes the foundation on Palm Sunday,
11th April [ch. ix. 5].

She remains two months in Malagon, and on
19th May departs for Toledo, which she reaches
bowed down with sickness.

28th May, she sets out for Escalona to see the
marchioness of Villena, at the request of Fray Garcia
of Toledo.

She writes to Dona Luisa de la Cerda to ask her
to send the MS. of her Life to Juan of Avila in all
haste, which she had left with her for that purpose.
F. Banes had written to her for it, and asked her to
send it to him as soon as she returned to Avila â€”
Letter of 27th May; â€” returns to Avila, 2nd June.

A house in Duruelo is offered her by Don Rafael
Mejia Velasquez for a monastery of friars which she
visits in July.

10th August, she arrives in Valladolid to make the
foundation for which Don Benardino de Mendoza
had given her a house [ch. x. 3], and the monastery
is founded on the feast of the Assumption.

Juan of Avila approves of her book, and writes to
her a letter, dated 12th September, from Montilla.

The first monastery of friars founded in Duruelo,
and the first mass said there conventually on Advent
Sunday, 28th November [ch. xiv. 5].

In December she prepares for the foundation in
Toledo.

1569. â€” She leaves Valladolid, and visits Duruelo the
second time on her way to Avila. In March she
sets out for Toledo, attended by the priest Gonzalo
de Aranda and the two nuns Isabel of S. Dominic
and Isabel of S. Paul, ch. xv. 3.

She arrives in Madrid; the king sent for her, but
she had then left for Toledo, where she arrives
24th March, Meanwhile the nuns in Valladolid
leave their monastery because of its unhealthiness,
and take a house within the city,

Juan of Avila dies, 12th April, from whom she
receives a consoling letter shortly before that day.

28th May. She receives a message from the
prince and princess of Eboli concerning the foundation to be made in Pastrana.

She leaves Toledo on Monday in Whitsun week,
30th May, and in Madrid is lodged in the
monastery of the Franciscan nuns.

Makes the acquaintance there of Mariano of
S. Benedict, the hermit, who enters the order of
Carmel with his companion, Juan de la Miseria.

9th July, she takes possession, after much discussion with the princess of Eboli, of the monastery in
Pastrana.

13th July, is founded the second monastery of the
friars in the same place by permission of the General.

The princess of Eboli, after much importunity,
obtains possession of the Saint's Life. She ridicules
the book, and allows her servants to see it though
she had promised to keep it secret.

21St July. The Saint returns to Toledo, where
she remains for a year, but visits at times the
monasteries of Medina del Campo, Valladolid, and
Pastrana.

1570. â€” Father Martin Gutierrez, rector of the house of
the Society in Salamanca, writes to her 17th January,
asking her to found a monastery there [ch. xviii. 1. ]

The nuns in Toledo remove to a better house in
the ward of S. Nicholas [ch. xv. 17].

In July she sees in a vision the martyrdom of
father Ignatius de Azevedo and others, forty Jesuits;
they were murdered by Soria, protestant and pirate,
and friend of Coligni. Among the martyrs was a
kinsman of the Saint.

10th July. She is in Pastrana, present at the profession of Ambrosio Mariano and Juan de la Miseria.

The following day the friars of Duruelo remove
to Mancera.

She returns to Toledo, and to Avila in August.

The bishop of Salamanca grants permission for the
foundation of her monastery.

The Saint arrives in Salamanca on the eve of All
Saints,

The third monastery of friars [Duruelo merged in
Mancera] is founded on the feast of All Saints in
Alcala de Henares by permission of the General
and the seventh of nuns on the same day in Salarrianca [ch. xix. 2].

At the end of the year the Saint is asked to
make a foundation in Alba de Tormes.
1572. The foundation made in Alba de Tormes, 25th
Jan. [ch. XX. 12].

The Saint returns to Salamanca, and is there at the
end of March. She now spent some time in the
house of the Count of Monterey.

She goes to Avila from Salamanca, and is ordered
by her superiors to accept the priorate of the
Incarnation [ch. xix. 6]. She renounces the mitigated
Rule. Father Fernandez makes supplementary
Constitutions for the nuns.

21st Nov. Foundation of the convent of Altoinira
by leave of the General.

She enters on her office in October, and remains
prioress for three years.

1572. 19th Jan. The Saint sees our Lady in the stall
of the prioress Relation iii. 16]. The nuns of the
Incarnation amend their ways, and the Saint rebukes
the insolence of those who paid visits to the religious.

25th March. Fray Jerome Gratian of the Mother
of God takes the habit in Pastrana.

April, foundation of La Roda by permission of
the General; some convents in Andalucia accept the
reform of S. Teresa.

The seeds of discord are sown between the old
friars and the reformed.

In May S. John of the Cross made confessor to the
nuns of the Incarnation.

Great p:races bestowed on the Saint while in the
monastery of the Incarnation: the mystical betrothal:
and the ecstasy in the parlour while speaking to
S. John of the Cross.

The spiritual challenge from the friars of Pastrana.

1573. In February she goes to Alba.

The Saint 11th June writes to King Philip II on
the affairs of the order.

In May and June foundations of Granada and
Penuela of the friars without the General's permission.

Writes to Father Ordonez, S.J., on the subject of
a school for young girls in Medina del Campo,
27th July.

She sets out for Salamanca, with the provincial's
leave, to arrange the transfer of her community there
to a new house.

At the end of the month the princess of Eboli
goes to Pastrana, and establishes herself as a nun in
the Carmelite monastery there [ch. xvii. 14, note].

In Salamanca her confessor. Father Jerome Ripalda,
bids her write the history of her foundations. She
begins to write 24th August.

While in Salamanca she is asked to make a
foundation in Veas.

Our Lord bids her make a foundation in Segovia
[ ch. xxi. i].

About the beginning of September the two fathers,
Gratian and Mariano, set out for Andalucia from
Pastrana, the former receives patents as Visitor
ApostoHc.

1574. 5th January foundation of the convent of Seville
of friars without leave from the general.

The Saint goes to Alba de Tormes from Salamanca.

She is in the former place 8th Feb., and stays two
days in the house of the duchess of Alba.

Notwithstanding her bodily illness and spiritual
distress she proceeds to Segovia through Medina del
Campo and Avila, and arrives there i8th March.
The next day, on the feast of S. Joseph, the foundation is made. She dissolves the monastery of
Pastrana and receives the nuns in Segovia [ch. xvii.
15, note].

She writes the Conceptions on the Love of God.

The book of her Life is delated to the inquisitors
the first time [ch. xvii. 12, note].

Dona Casilda de Padilla enters the monastery of
Valladolid. Death of Isabel of the Angels.

She purchases the house of Diego Porraz in
Segovia, which results in lawsuits with the chapter
and the monasteries there. Towards the end of
September she removes her nuns to the new house,
and on the 1st of October goes back to Avila.

6th Oct. She resigns the place of prioresss in the
monastery of the Incarnation, and returns to her own
house of S. Joseph where she is elected prioress.

She goes again to Valladolid to make certain
arrangements about the reception of Doiia Casilda
de Padilla.

1575. In the beginning of the year she returns to
Avila, and, having rested awhile, goes through
Toledo, Malagon, and Almodovar to Veas. In
Almodovar she foretold the virtues of the blessed
John Baptist of the Conception, the reformer of the
Trinitarians.

She makes her tenth foundation of nuns in Veas on
the feast of S. Mathias, 24th Feb. Sees there for
the first time Fray Jerome of the Mother of God,
who was on his way to Madrid.

7th March. The house of the friars founded in
Almodovar del Campo with leave of the general.

The Saint sets out for Seville, being at the time
unwell; with many difficulties on the road, and much
opposition in Seville. The foundation there is made
on the feast of the Most Holy Trinity, 29th May.

21st May. The general chapter of the order is
held in Piacenza, where it was resolved to deal
sharply with the friars of S. Teresa's reform.

23rd May. She makes a vow of obedience to
Father Jerome (Relation vi.)

The Saint writes a long letter to the general.
About the middle of August her brother Lorenzo
arrives at Seville from South America.

21 St Nov. Fray Jerome of the Mother of God, by
delegation of the nuncio, visits the friars in Seville
of the old observance, who resist his authority.

Fray Angel de Salazar, provincial of Castille, bids
the Saint make no more foundations, and orders her
further to withdraw into any one of her monasteries,
and there to remain. She proposes to withdraw to
Valladolid at once, leaving the foundation of Seville
in its troubles, but Fray Jerome bids her stay for the
present where she is,
1576. The foundation of Caravaca made 1st Jan., while
the Saint was in Seville, searching for a house, and
waiting for the licence of the archbishop.

She writes to the father-general explaining her
acts, and those of Fray Jerome of the Mother of
God and Fray Mariano. She tells him also how
they and herselt were about to be harassed, and that
false accusations were brought against them. She is
delated to the inquisition at this time by a weak
sister who let her monastery.

She buys a house at last, helped by her brother
Don Lorenzo. In the beginning of May the new
house is occupied by her and her sisters.

Fray Juan de la Miseria paints the portrait of
the Saint.

4th June. She sets out for Toledo, where she
was to stay according to the order of the general.
She is in Malagon with her brother on the 11th, and
in the beginning oi July reaches Toledo. Before
she is settled there she goes to her monastery in
Avila, by order of Fray Jerome, and hastens back to
Toledo with the Venerable Anne of S. Bartholomew,
who is to be her companion and secretary. 9th
August, she is settled in Toledo. She is now asked
to make a foundation in Villanueva de la Jara.

The friars of the observance hold a chapter in
Moraleja 12th May, and make decrees against the
reform of S. Teresa. The friars of the reform hold
a chapter in Almodovar, 8th Sept., and there some
at their brethren are deputed to go to Rome to save
:he reform.

In Toledo the Saint continues the Book of the
Foundations as far as ch. xxvii, adding to it the
account of the foundations of Segovia, Veas, Seville,
and Caravaca, and writes the Visitation of the Nunneries.
She ceases to write about the middle of November.

The foundations are interrupted, none being made
for more than tour years, owing to the troubles
arising out of the quarrel between the friars of the
old observance and those of the Saint's reform [ch.
xxviii. i].

She confesses in Toledo to Dr Velasquez, afterwards
bishop of Osma.

The nuns of Malagon are in trouble, and it is
discussed whether it would not be better to remove
the nuns of Veas to Granada.

Grievous charges are falsely brought against the
Saint, and the friars of the old observance think of
sending her to a monastery in India.

About the end of October some of the Saint's nuns
in Seville are sent to reform the nuns of the old
observance in Paterna, where they remain until the
feast of S. Barbara, 1577.

1st Dec. the convent of Penuela is transferred to
El Cahario.

A foundation in Aguilar de Campos is offered to
the Saint 7th December.

During the year the Saint wrote many important
letters.
1577. 24th March. The celebrated Fray Nicholas of
Jesus Maria (Doria) enters the order of Carmel.

The nuns of Veas and Caravaca involved in
lawsuits.

2nd June. She begins to write the Interior Castle.

1 8th June, the nuncio Monsignore Ormaneto dies,
to the great grief of the Saint, for he had always
defended her reform.

In July she goes to Avila, and places her monastery
there under the jurisdiction of the order: it had
been hitherto under the bishop.

In August the new nuncio, Monsignore Philip
Sega, arrives at Madrid.

Gross falsehoods put forth against the triars and
nuns of the reform by two friars who abandoned it â€”
Fray Miguel de la Columna and Fray Baltasar
de Jesus.

Monsignor Sega deals severely with the triars of
the reform, and the Saint begs the king to help her.

8th Octob. Fray Miguel repents, and recants all
he had said.

The nuns of the Incarnation, notwithstanding the
threats of their superiors, elect as their prioress
S. Teresa,

About the end of November the book of the
Interior Castle is finished.

In the night of 3rd December, S. John of the
Cross and his fellow confessor and chaplain of
the Incarnation are taken to prison by the friars of
the old observance. The former is cruelly treated
by his brethren in Toledo.

On Christmas Eve the Saint is thrown down and
breaks her arm.

1576 â€” F, Salazar, S.J., wishes to become a Carmelite
friar, and S. Teresa writes to father Suarez, provincial
of the society.

The nuncio becomes more severe with the friars.

In the beginning of May, Fray Jerome Tostado
returns to Portugal, and the saint is more at ease.

The royal council interferes with the jurisdiction
of the nuncio, and forbids the friars of the reform to
obey him, 9th August.

The father-general of the order, Fray Juan Bautista Rubeo, dies 4th September,

9th October. The chapter of Almodovaris held,
in which the friars of the reform, with doubtful
right, form themselves into a distinct province, and
elect for their provincial Fray Antonio of Jesus.

The nuncio is made angry by this proceeding:
he quashes the acts of the chapter, and imprisons the
chief friars. He bids S. Teresa to remain in Toledo,
and speaks harshly of her and her work.

Towards the end of the year the monastery of
Seville is disturbed by the indiscretion of the confessor, and on the prioress attempting to check him
he carries accusations against her and the Saint before
the tribunal of the inquisition. The inquisitors
examine, and find the accused innocent.

Fray Pedro of the Angels and Fray Juan of San
Diego proceed to Rome on behalf of their brethren
of the reform, but the former in Naples reveals all
to the vicar-general of the order, and on his arrival
in Spain returns to the friars of the mitigation.

During this year the Saint is in Avila.

The book of her Life is again delated to the inquisitors.
1579. â€” In the beginning of the year the order begins to
have a little more rest.

In the beginning of February the nuncio consents
to receive four assessors to judge the affairs of the
friars of the reform with him [ch. xxviii. 4, note 10].

I St April. The nuncio makes Fray Angel de Salazar
of the mitigation visitor of the friars of the reform.

The two fathers, Fray Juan of Jesus and Fray
Diego of the Trinity, go from Avila, disguised as
laymen, to Rome, in order to obtain the severance of
the friars of S. Teresa's reform from those of the
mitigation. In May they embark at Alicante for
Naples.

6th June. The Saint writes the four instructions
which God gave her for the preservation and growth
of the order. (Relation x.)

14th June. Foundation of the convent of friars
at Baeza.

23rd June. She sets out from Avila to visit her
monasteries, remains a few days in Malagon, and
arrives on the 3rd of July in Valladolid, where
she stays till the 30th.

15th July. The nuncio proposes the separation
of the friars of the reform from those of the mitigation.

22nd July. She writes to Don Teutonio de
Braganza, archbishop of Evora to whom she had
sent a copy of her Way of Perfection the week before,
that he might get it printed.

30th July. The Saint goes from Valladolid to
Medina, where she remains three or four days; then
to Alba de Tormes, where she stays a week. She
then goes to Salamanca, where she remains some two
months and a half.

Fray Angel de Salazar relieves her of the burden
of the priorate of Malagon, but insists on her visiting
the monastery.

In the beginning of November she returns to
Avila, and goes thence, notwithstanding her illness
and the severity of the weather, to Malagon. She
was five days in reaching Toledo.

25th Nov. She reaches Malagon, and on the
feast of the Immaculate Conception the nuns remove
to their new house.

She consents to make the foundation in Villanueva
de la Jara.
1580, â€” Fra Angel de Salazar, 28th Jan,, gives the Saint
authority to make the foundation in Villanueva,

13th Feb. She departs from Malagon, and arrives
in Villanueva on the first Sunday in Lent, The
devout ladies there waiting for her receive the habit,
25th February,

She leaves Villanueva, and arrives in Toledo
25th March, and is struck by paralysis.

She recovers by degrees, and visits the cardinal
archbishop, who tells her that her book is in the holy
office, but that no fault can be tound with it.

22nd May. Fra Giovanni Battista Cafardo, who
had governed the order since the death of father
Rubeo as vicar by the order of the Pope, is elected
father-general.

The Saint remains in Toledo till 7th June, then,
by order of Fray Angel de Salazar, goes to
Valladolid. She is in Segovia 13th June,

22nd June. His Holiness Gregory XIII issues
the bulls for the formation of a distinct province of
the friars of the reform.

25th June. Death of the Saint's brother Don
Lorenzo.

The Saint is obliged to go to Avila to arrange the
affairs of her brother.

In the beginning of August she sets out from
Avila to Medina del Campo with her nephew and
Fray Jerome of the Mother of God; then to Valladolid, where she is very ill, and believed to be dying
[ch. xxix. i].

She is asked when somewhat better to make a
foundation in Palencia, and by direction of her confessor, F. Ripalda, S.J., notwithstanding her broken
health, consents.

The archbishop of Burgos gives leave to found a
house in his cathedral city [ch. xxxi. i].

She leaves Valladolid for Palencia on the feast of
the Holy Innocents, and the foundation is made on
the feast of David the King [28th Dec.; ch. xxix. 9]
in a hired house.
1581. â€” 1st Feb. The apostolic commissary. Fray Juan
de las Cuevas, of the order of S. Dominic, summons
the friars of the reform to Alcala de Henares, and
by authority of His Holiness constitutes them a
province apart from the friars of the mitigation,
3rd March.

Fray Jerome of the Mother of God is in the chapter
elected the first provincial of the reform of S. Teresa,

4th May. The house of the friars of the reform
founded in Valladolid, and another, 1st June, in
Salamanca.

The nuns of Palencia remove from the hired house
to that bought by the Saint near the hermitage of
our Lady of the Street [ch. xxix. 22].

Towards the end of May the Saint goes from
Palencia to Soria, where she arrives 2nd June, and
on the following day founds the fifteenth monastery
of her reform.

She makes an effort to found a house in Madrid,
as she had been doing for some time.

She makes Catherine of Christ prioress of Soria,
and on the i6th of August sets out for Avila. In
Burgo de Osma she meets Don Diego de Yepes, and
receives communion from his hands.

23rd August. She is in Segovia, in Villacastin
4th September, and the next day in Avila.

The monastery of S. Joseph had fallen away, and
was spiritually and temporally a source of distress to
the Saint. On her arrival the prioress resigns, and
the community elect S. Teresa to fill her place, but
she refuses till Fray Jerome of the Mother of God
commands her to accept the burden.
1582. â€” 2nd Jan. The Saint leaves Avila on her way to
Burgos. She is in Medina del Campo on the 4th.
On the 9th she sets out for Valladolid, where she
remains four days. She then goes to Palencia, and
from Palencia to Burgos, where she arrives, after a
toilsome and dangerous journey, 26th Jan.
[ch. xxxi. 18].

21 St Jan. The Venerable Anne of Jesus arrived
in Granada with S. John of the Cross to make the
foundation there.

19th February, Foundation of the convent of
friars at Lisbon.

The archbishop of Burgos makes it difficult
for the Saint to found a house. She and her
nuns are lodged for a time in the hospital of
the Conception.

The archbishop, after many shiftings, yields at last
and the monastery is founded 22nd April.

24th May. The monastery in Burgos is flooded,
and the nuns are in great danger.

She leaves Burgos about the end of July for
Palencia and Valladolid.

In Valladolid she is insulted by a lawyer, who
thinks that she has not dealt justly in the administration of her brother's affairs.

The prioress at Valladolid quarrels with her, and
orders her to leave the monastery.

16th Sep. The Saint reaches Medina del Campo,
where also the prioress turns against her. She goes
away without food, and is extremely ill through
weariness, and hunger. She and her companion,
the Venerable Anne of S. Bartholomew, reach Penaranda, where they can get nothing to eat, and the
Saint is at the point of death.

She is not able to return to Avila,for the vicar
of the province orders her to go at once to Alba de
Formes, the duchess of Alba being desirous of her
presence.

She reaches Alba de Tormes, nearly dead, about
six o'clock on the evening of 20th Sept. The next
morning she does violence to herself, and goes down
to the church for communion, and then returns to
her bed, never to leave it alive.

She makes her confession to Fray Antonio of
Jesus, and receives the viaticum and the last anointing,
and on the feast of S. Francis, 4th October, dies in
the arms of her companion, the Venerable Anne of
S, Bartholomew, in the 68th year of her age.

On the next day, which, on account of the reform
of the Calendar, was the 15th, she is buried under
the choir of matins;.

1584. First exhumation of her body.

1585- 15th Oct. the body is removed from Alba
to Avila.

1586. 23rd August. By order of the Pope it is brought
back to Alba.

1587. 10th July. The Discalced Carmelites form a
Congregation under a Vicat-General.

1591. The process of Beatification begun. 14th December,
death of S. John of the Cross.

1592. 17th February. Expulsion of Father Jerome
Gratian.

1593. Separation of the Orders of Caked and Discalced
Carmelites.

1595. Compulsorial process of Beatification.

1604. Remissorial process, informations in genere.

1607. Informations in specie.

1614. 24th April. Beatification. 21St September. Death of Father Jerome Gratian.

1622. I 2th March. Canonisation of S. Teresa.

1750. 2nd Oct. Last opening of the sepulchre.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

PROLOGUE

I have often found by experience, to say nothing
of what I have read in several books, the great benefit a soul derives by not departing from obedience.
In this, I consider our advancement in virtue to
consist, as well as the acquisition of humility; for
obedience secures us from those fears, which while
we mortals live it is fit we should have, lest we stray
from the path to heaven. Herein is found that
quiet, so much prized by souls desirous of serving
God; for if they truly resign themselves to this
holy obedience, and subject their understanding to
it, so as to have no other will but that of their confessor; and if they be Religious, that of their
superior, the devil ceases to attack them with his
continual scruples and vexations, finding he loses
rather than gains. And besides, the turbulent
motions of our minds, which delight in doing their
own will, and even in subjecting reason, in things
that please us, cease by obedience: and remember
that we have deliberately surrendered our will to
the will of God, choosing, as a means, to subject ourselves to one who holds his place.

Since, then, our Lord, in His goodness, hath given
me the light to know the great treasure contained
in this precious virtue, I have endeavoured to acquire it, though weakly and imperfectly; and often
the little virtue I see in me causes me uneasiness,
because I know I have not fully accomplished some
of the things enjoined me. May His divine Majesty
supply whatever is defective, in this my present
undertaking.

While living in the monastery of St. Joseph at
Avila, in the year 1562 (the same year in which
that monastery was founded), I was commanded by
Father Garcia, of Toledo, of the Order of St. Dominic,
and who was then my confessor, to write the Foundation of that house, with several other things,
which (if published) whoever reads them will know
what they are. But being now at Salamanca, in
the year 1573 (it is eleven years since I wrote the
first Foundation), my present confessor, Father Ripalda. Rector of the Society of Jesus, having read
the book of the first Foundation, he thought it
might conduce much to the honour of our Lord, if
I wrote the Foundations of the other seven monasteries, which, by the goodness of our Lord, have
since been erected; he accordingly commanded me
to do so, and likewise to give an account of the
commencement of the monasteries belonging to the
Discalced Fathers of this First Rule. But as such
an undertaking seemed to me impossible, on account
of the many duties I had to attend to, and of the
Letters I was obliged to write, as well as other important business commanded me by my superiors, I
was recommending myself to God, being somewhat
troubled on account of my poor abilities and weak
state of health (for even without this burden, I
seemed unable to perform my other duties by reason
of my natural imbecility), when our Lord said to me,
â€œ Daughter, obedience gives strength.â€ His Majesty grant it may prove so, and may he give me
grace worthily to relate, to His glory, the favours
He hath bestowed on our Order in these Foundations. Be assured, that whatever I may say shall
be said in all truth, without any exaggeration, agreeably with what happened; for in any matter, however slight, I would not tell a lie for the whole
world; and therefore, in what I am now writing
(with the intention that our Lord may be praised
therein), I shall be most scrupulous, believing it
would be not only a loss of time, but using deception in the things of God, to be otherwise; for then,
so far from honouring Him, I should rather offend
Him, which would be high treason. May His
Majesty ever protect me from doing such a thing.

I shall give each Foundation in its order, and be as
short as I possibly can, for my style is so heavy, that
I fear I shall â€” though unwillingly â€” both tire the
reader and myself. However, through the love you
bear me, my daughters, to whom, after my death,
this book will be left, I hope you will tolerate it.
God grant, that since in nothing I seek my own
advantage, nor have any desire but His praise and
glory (many things there are for which this tribute
is due), whoever shall read these Foundations, let
him not attribute any of them to me, for this would be
against the truth; but let him beseech our Lord, to
pardon the little proficiency I have made under all
those favours. Herein you, my daughters, have
more reason to complain of me, than to thank me
for what I have done in these Foundations. Let us
all, therefore, my daughters, give thanks to the
Divine Goodness â€” for so many favours which He
hath bestowed upon me.

Having such a bad memory, I am afraid I shall
leave out many things of importance, and mention
other things which might be omitted; in a word,
allowance must be made for my poor ability and
dulness of comprehension, and likewise for the want
of leisure to write such things.

I am also commanded, if an opportunity offer
itself, to say something on prayer, and concerning
the illusion in which some may live who practise it,
and which may hinder them from advancing in perfection. In everything I submit myself to what the
Holy Roman Church, my Mother, teaches, being
resolved, before the book comes into your hands, my
Sisters and Daughters, to have it examined by
learned and spiritual men. I begin, then, in the
name of the Lord, taking to my help His glorious
Mother, whose habit I wear, though unworthy of it;
and also my glorious Father and Patron St. Joseph,
in whose house I now live, which is called from his
name, and by whose prayers I have been continually
assisted.

I request of my reader to say an â€œ Ave Mariaâ€ for
me, to help me out of purgatory, and bring me to
the possession of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, with
the Father and the Holy Ghost, lives and reigns
for ever. Amen.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Foundation Of Medina Del Campo.

I lived five years in the Convent of St. Joseph of
Avila, after it was founded: and it appears to me
now, that these were the most quiet years of my life,
the tranquillity and calmness of which my soul has
oftentimes longed for. About this time, some young
ladies entered to take the habit, whom the world, to
all appearance, had already held captives, if one
might judge by their fine dress and frivolity; but our
Lord soon removed them from these vanities, by
drawing them to His house, and endowing them with
such great perfection, that I was much confused
thereat. Their number amounted to thirteen, which
I had determined not to exceed. I was much delighted in living among such pure and holy souls, for
all their care was to serve and praise our Lord. His
Divine Majesty sent us there everything necessary,
without our asking; and whenever we were in want
(which was but seldom), their joy was the greater. I
praised our Lord in seeing such heroic virtue, and
especially their indifference about everything relating
to the body. I, who was their superioress, never
remember to have been troubled with any thought in
this matter, because I firmly believed that our Lord
would not be wanting to those who had no other
wish â€” but how to please Him. And if sometimes
there was not provision enough for all, upon my saying that those only who stood most in need should
partake of it, each one considered herself not to he
such, and thus the food remained till God sent sufficient for all.

With regard to the virtue of obedience â€” (which I
value so much, though I knew not how to practise it
till these servants of God taught me; and if I possessed any virtue, I should never be ignorant of it),
I could mention many things which I here saw in
them. One at present offers itself to me, which is
this: Being one day in the refectory, a few cucumbers were given to us at our meal; a very small one,
which was rotten inside, fell to my share. Appearing not to be aware of this, I called one of the sisters
who had more judgment and talent than the others;
and to try her obedience, I told her to go and set
the cucumber in a little garden that we had: she
asked me whether she should plant it straight down
or sideways: I said â€œ sideways,â€ and immediately she
did so, without the thought once occurring that it
was impossible to prevent it from decaying; but her
esteem for obedience so captivated her natural reason
in the service of Christ, as to make her believe the
thing was quite proper.

It once happened that I imposed on a sister six or
seven different offices, which she undertook without
saying a word, thinking it possible to perform them all.
We had a well containing very bad water (according to
the report of those who tried it), which I wished to
have had conveyed by a pipe to our house, thinking
that if once the writer could be made to flow, it might
serve us for drink; but this appeared to be impossible,
as the well was very deep. However, I called in
some skilful workmen, to see what they could do:
but they laughed at me, as if I wished to throw
money away. Thereupon, I asked the sisters what
they thought of the matter ? One said, â€œ that the
work should be attempted â€¢â€ another said, â€œ Since our
Lord gives us food, will He not give us some one to
bring us water? It would be necessary for His
Majesty to give it to us in our house, and thus He
will not fail to do it.â€ Seeing the great faith and
resolution with which she spoke, I considered the
matter quite certain, and therefore, contrary to the
wish of the person I employed (who knew what
kind of water was in the well), I ordered the work
to be done, and our Lord was pleased that we should
obtain a current of water, good and sufficient for us
to drink, and which we now possess. I do not consider this as a miracle, for I could relate many other
things, but I only wish to show the great faith these
sisters possessed, since the circumstance happened
just as I have related it. And, moreover, it is not
my chief intention to commend the nuns of this convent (all of whom, through the goodness of our Lord,
continue to this day in the same way; and to write
on these and many other matters would occupy too
much space, though not without profit, since those
who may come after are often animated to imitate
them); but if our Lord be pleased that these things
should be known, the superiors may command the
prioresses to publish them.

I lived then among these angelic souls, for such
they appeared to me, because they concealed no imperfection from me, however interior it might be;
and the favours, the ardent desires, and detachment
from worldly things which our Lord gave them, were
very great and numerous. Solitude was their joy, and
they have accordingly assured me that they were never
tired of being alone, and that it was quite a torment
to them whenever any one, even their own brothers,
came to see them: she who had the most time to
remain in a little hermitage we had in the garden,
esteemed herself the most happy. When I was
considering the great value of these souls, and the
courage which God gave them, beyond that of
women, to suffer and to serve Him, I thought many
times, that the riches with which our Lord endowed
them were given for some great end: that , however,
never came into my thoughts, which afterwards happened; for then it appeared to me a thing impossible,
as I could see no grounds even to imagine what was
to come; and in the meanwhile, as time went on, my
desires increased more and more, to be instrumental
in doing some good to any souls. And thus it appeared as if my soul were bound, and often I seemed
like one that had a great treasure to guard, and who
was desirous that all should share in it; and yet my
hands seemed tied, so as to prevent me from distributing it: thus my soul seemed bound, for the
favours which God bestowed on me in these years
were very great, and all appeared to be ill bestowed
upon me. But I endeavoured to please the Lord,
with my poor prayers, and always laboured with the
sisters that they might do the same, and be jealous
for the good of souls, and for the extension of the
Church: and whoever conversed with them were
always edified; this helped to satisfy my great
desires.

After four years, or it may be a little more, a
Religious of the Order of St. Francis came to see me:
his name was Fray Alfonso Maldonado, a great
servant of God, having the same desires as myself
for the good of souls; but he was able to accomplish
them, for which I envied him extremely. As he had
not long come from India, he began to tell me how
many millions of souls were lost there, for want of
instruction, and he gave us a sermon on the subject,
exhorting us to do penance, and then departed. I
became so distressed at the loss of so many souls
that I could not contain myself: and I went to one
of our hermitages, and there, with many tears, cried
to our Lord, beseeching Him to give me the means
whereby I might be able to gain some souls to His
service, since the devil carried away so many, and
that my prayers might be of some avail, for I was good
for nothing more myself. I envied those greatly, who
for the love of God were able to spend themselves in
this work, though they should suffer a thousand
deaths; and thus it happens, that when we read in
the Lives of the Saints, how they converted souls,
this excites within me more devotion, more tenderness and envy, than all the martyrdoms they suffered;
and this is a feeling our Lord has given me, thus
showing me that He values one soul which we gain
through His mercy by our prayers more than all the
services we can do Him. One night, while I was in
prayer (with this great pain), our Lord presented Himself to me in the manner He was accustomed; and â€¢
showing me much affection, as if He wished to console me. He said: â€” â€œ Wait a little, daughter, and thou
shalt see great things.â€ These words remained so
fixed in my heart, that I could not drive them from me;
and though I could not conjecture, nor see any ground
to imagine what they meant, though I thought much
on the matter; yet I was greatly consoled, and felt
certain the words would become true, but by what
means never entered ray imagination, and thus
another year passed, and what afterwards happened,
I shall now relate.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

How Our Father General Came To Avila, And What
Happened Upon His Coming.

Our Generals always reside in Rome, and none of
them was ever known to come into Spain, so that
for any one to come now, seemed a thing impossible;
but as whatever our Lord wills is sure to be done,
His Majesty ordered that to happen now which
never happened before. When I heard of his
arrival, I appeared to be much troubled, because (as
I related when speaking of the foundation of the
convent of St. Joseph) that house was not subject
to the Order, and therefore I feared two things: one,
that he would be displeased with me, for not knowing
how matters were going on â€” he had just reason;
the other, that he would command me to return to
the monastery of the Incarnation, where the rule
is mitigated; this would have been a great affliction to me for many reasons which I need not
now mention: one was, that I could not there
observe the rules in their primitive rigour, and also
because the number of Religious was above a
hundred and fifty, and I knew that where there are
few, there more quiet and conformity are to be
found. But our Lord directed this matter better
than I imagined, and as the General was a holy
servant of His, and very prudent and learned, he
saw it was a good undertaking; for the rest, he was
not severe in any way to me; his name was Father
John Baptist Rossi, of Ravenna, a person much
esteemed in the Order, and deservedly so. Having
arrived at Avila, I prevailed on him to visit St.
Joseph's, and the bishop wished that the same attention should be paid to him as to his own person. I
gave him an account of the foundation with all truth
and simplicity, because it is my desire thus to act
with my superiors, come what may, since they stand
in the place of God: the same I do with my confessors,
for if I did not, I think there would be no security
for my soul. And thus I gave him an account of the
monastery, and also of my whole life, though it
has been so wicked. He consoled me greatly,
and assured me he would not command me to remove hence. He was very pleased to see our way of
living, which was an imperfect image of our Order
at its commencement, and how the primitive rule
was observed in all its rigour, which was not the
case in any other monastery of the whole Order. As
he had a great desire that this beginning should go
forward, he gave me several letters patent for the
erection of more monasteries, with an injunction
that none of the provincials should prevent me.
These letters I did not ask of him, since he knew
my manner of proceeding in prayer, and the great
desire I had to be the means of enabling souls to
approach nearer to God. But these means I procured not from him; rather it appeared to me madness, because I well knew that a worthless woman
like myself, and without any power, could do nothing.
But when these desires come into the soul, it is not
in her power to reject them; but through her love
to please God, and her confidence in Him, His
Divine Majesty makes that possible, which to natural
reason is not so. Thus when I saw the great desire
our very reverend Father General had, that more
monasteries should be founded, it seemed as if I
saw them already established; and remembering the
words our Lord had spoken to me, I now perceived
some beginning of that which before I could not
understand. But when our Father General was
about to return to Rome, I was very much grieved;
for, having shown me the greatest affection and
favour, I had a high regard for him, and appeared to
be very desolate at his departure. As often as he
was disengaged he came to treat on spiritual things
with us, being one on whom our Lord had bestowed
great favours, and on this account it was a great
comfort for us to hear him.

Before he departed, the Lord Bishop Don Alvarez
de Mendoza, who loved much to assist all those
who he saw endeavoured to serve God with greater
perfection, procured from him a license, to erect in
his diocese some monasteries of barefooted friars of
the first rule; others also made the same request.

The Father General was desirous of effecting this
object; but as he found there was some opposition
to it in the Order, he deferred it for the present, lest
he might cause some disturbance in the province. A
few days after, when I considered how necessary it
was that, if I erected convents for nuns, there should
also be some monasteries for men observing the same
rule; and seeing how few there were in this province,
after having earnestly recommended the matter to our
Lord, I wrote a letter to our Father General entreating him as well as I could to be favourable, and
giving him reasons to prove what great honour would
result therefrom to God; and at the same time
showing that the inconveniences which might happen
were not sufficient to give up so good a work: I
likewise placed before him the honour our Blessed
Lady would derive from it, to whom he was exceedingly devout. She it was who must have advanced
this object; for the Father General having received
my sister when he was at Valencia, sent me from
thence a license to found two monasteries, thus
showing how he desired to advance the greater perfection of the Order. And that there might be no
opposition, he referred the matter to the provincial
who was then in office, as well as to the preceding
one (a thing very difficult to obtain); but as I saw
the principal point was gained, I had great hopes
that our Lord would do the rest, and so it happened,
for by the kindness of the Lord Bishop, who managed the business as if it were his own affair, both
the provincials gave their consent.

Being now very much consoled by having obtained
the license, I was the more troubled because there
were no friars in the province that I could hear of,
to begin the work, nor any secular willing to make a
beginning: in this difficulty I could do nothing but
beseech our Lord, that He would be pleased to raise
up one person at least. I had neither house, nor
means to purchase one. Behold here a poor bare
footed nun, without the support of any one hut our
Lord, furnished with plenty of letters and good desires, without any possibility of putting them in
execution. But neither my courage nor confidence
failed me; for when I considered that our Lord,
haying granted one thing, would certainly grant the
other, then everything appeared to me possible, and so
I began to set to work. O greatness of God, how dost
Thou show thy power by giving courage to such an
ant ! And, O my Lord ! what great things wouldst
Thou not do for those who love Thee, but our cowardice
and fears are in the way, because we never resolve
but when full of a thousand apprehensions and human
considerations! And thus,0 my God ! Thou display est
not thy wonders and greatness ! Who is more disposed to give, were there any to receive ? Who more
willing to accept our services at our own charge,
than Thou ? May it be that I have done your Majesty
some service, and not rather have the greater account
to give for all that I have received.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

By What Means The Founding Of The Monastery Of St.
Joseph In Medina Del Campo Began To Be Negotiated.

Being then full of all these cares, it came into my
mind to make use of the assistance of the Fathers
of the Society [Jesuits], who were very much esteemed in
Medina, and with whom (as I have mentioned in the
first Foundation) I have for many years treated on
the concerns of my soul; and for the great good I
received, I have always had a particular attachment
and reverence for them. I wrote, as our Father
General had commanded me, to the rector of this
place, who happened to be my confessor for many
years (as I have before mentioned), and is now the
provincial: his name is Baltasar Alvarez. He and
all the rest said they would do what they could in this
matter; and much they did, accordingly, in procuring
a license from the magistrates and from the bishop;
and as the monastery was to be founded in poverty,
this is a difficult point in every place: thus many
days were spent in negotiating the matter. For this
purpose, a priest went to Medina, who was a zealous
servant of God, greatly disengaged from all things of
the world, and much given to prayer: he was chaplain in the monastery where I lived, and one to
whom our Lord gave the same desires as He gave to
myself: and thus he assisted me greatly, as will be
seen further on: his name was Julian D' Avila.

Now, though I had a license, I had no house,
nor a farthing to buy one; and how could a poor
stranger, as I was, procure credit or trust on nothing,
had not our Lord assisted us ? He so ordered, that
a very virtuous lady, for whom there had been no
room for admission into St. Joseph's convent, hearing that another house was to be erected, should
come to me, and desire to be admitted into this. She
had some money, but very little, and it was not
sufficient to purchase a house, but only to hire one,
and to help to pay the expenses of the journey. And
so we hired one; and without any other assistance
but this, we departed from Avila, two nuns of St.
Joseph's and myself, with four of the Incarnation (in
which convent the rule is mitigated, and there I
lived before St. Joseph's was founded), together with
our father chaplain, Julian D' Avila.

When the matter was known in the city, there
was great murmuring: some said I was a fool; others
that they waited the result of such madness. The
bishop also thought it a very foolish undertaking, as
he told me afterwards, although then he did not tell
me so; for he did not wish to hinder me, because,
having a great regard for me, he would not give me
any uneasiness. My friends also spoke enough to
me on the matter, but I took little notice of what
they said, because that which they considered very
doubtful, appeared to me so easy, that I could not be
persuaded it would prove a failure.

Before we left Avila, I wrote to a father of our
Order, named Fray Antonio de Heredia, to buy me
a house: at that time he was prior of a monastery
of friars belonging to our Order there, called St.
Anneâ€™s. He treated on the matter with a lady, who
esteemed him much; but the house she had was
quite in decay, save one apartment, which was in a
good state. This lady was so kind, that she promised
to sell it to him; and so they made the bargain,
without her requiring security of him, or anything
else beyond his word: and if she had insisted on
security, we should have had no remedy. But it
was our Lord who was disposing everything for us.
The walls of this house were so decayed, that we
hired another on this account while they were being
repaired, for there was much to be done. Thus,
coming the first dayâ€™s journey to Arevalo late at
night, fatigued with the bad accommodation we had,
on my entering the town I met a priest, a friend of
ours, who had procured a lodging for us in a house
that belonged to certain devout women. He told
me in private that we could not have the house
which had been hired for us, because it stood near
a monastery of the Augustinians, and they greatly
opposed our entrance there, and that therefore we
should be forced to have a lawsuit about the matter.
O my God ! when Thou, O Lord, art pleased to inspire
us with courage, how powerless are all contradictions ! But I was the more animated and encouraged by the consideration, that as the devil began
to raise disturbances and difficulties, this was a sign
that our Lord would be served in this monastery.
However, I desired our friend to say nothing, in
order not to disturb my companions, especially the
two nuns of the Incarnation; as to the rest, I knew
they would endure any trouble for my sake. One of
these was the sub-prioress of that monastery, and
both of them were of good families; and because
they came with me against the wish of their relations, they were greatly opposed to their departure,
for all considered the undertaking to be very foolish.
Afterwards I saw they had reason enough to think
so. But when our Lord is pleased that I should
found one of these monasteries, my mind appears to
me incapable of admitting any thought sufficiently
strong to induce me to lay aside the undertaking till the
thing be done: then all the difficulties present themselves together before me, as will be seen afterwards.

When we arrived at our lodgings, I learnt that
there was in the place a friar of the Order of St.
Dominic, a great servant of God, and who had been
my confessor all the time I lived at St. Joseph's; and
as in that Foundation I spoke much of his virtue, I
will here mention only his name, which is Fray
Domingo .Banez: he is a person of great learning
and prudence; by his guidance I directed myself;
and now what I was about to undertake did not
appear, to his judgment, so difficult a matter as it
seemed to others, because the more we know of God,
the more easy do His works seem. All things appeared to him very possible, on hearing of certain
favours God had done for me, and on account of
what he had seen himself in the Foundation of St.
Joseph's. He gave me great consolation, whenever
I saw him, because by his advice I believed everything would succeed well. As soon as he came to us,
I told him very privately all that had passed. His
opinion was, that we might soon settle the business
of the Augustinians: but to me, all delay was a
tedious matter, not knowing what to do with so
many nuns; and thus we all passed the night in
trouble, for the affair was soon told to every one in
the house.

Early in the morning Father Antonio de Heredia
came to us, and told us that the house he had agreed
to purchase was sufficient, and that it had a hall
which we could convert into a little church, by
adorning it with pieces of tapestry. This we resolved
upon; at least, I thought it would do very well, for
the more haste we made, so much the better it
would be for us, considering we were out of our convent; and as there was also some opposition to be
feared, having learnt a lesson from the first Foundation, I was therefore very anxious possession should
be taken before the matter became known. We
resolved accordingly to take possession, and to this
Father Domingo Banez likewise consented.

We arrived at Medina del Campo on the eve of
Assumption of our Lady, about midnight; and to
avoid all noise, we alighted at St. Anne's convent,
and thence we went on foot to our house.f It was
a great mercy of God, that at such an hour we met
no one, though then was the time when the bulls
were about to be shut up, that were to run the next
day. I have no recollection of anything, on account
of the terror and amazement we were in. But our
Lord, who takes care of those who desire to please
Him, preserved us; for we truly had no other object
in view but His glory in this matter. Having come
to the house, we entered into a court, the walls of
which seemed much decayed, but not so much as
afterwards, when it was daylight, for then we could
see better. It seemed to me, that our Lord was
pleased this good father should be so blind, as not to
perceive there was no proper place there for the
most Blessed Sacrament to remain. When I saw
the hall, I perceived there was much rubbish to be
removed, and that the walls were not plastered: the
night was far advanced, and we had brought only a
few hangings (three, I think), which were nothing
for the whole length of the hall: I knew not what
was to be done, for I saw that was no proper place to
erect the altar. Our Lord was, however, pleased the
thing should be done immediately, for the steward
of the lady had in the house several pieces of tapestry
which belonged to her, and also a piece of blue
damask, and she had told him to give us whatever we
wanted, which was very kind of her.

When I saw such good furniture, I praised our
Lord, and so also did the other nuns. But we knew
not what to do for nails, and that was not the time
to buy them ,â€¢ we began, however, to search for some
on the walls, and at length with difficulty we procured abundance: then some of the men commenced
putting up the tapestry, while we swept the floor;
and we made such great haste, that when it was daylight, the altar was ready, a bell was put up, and
immediately mass was said. This was sufficient to
take possession; but we did not stop here, till we
had the most Blessed Sacrament placed in the tabernacle, and through the chinks of a door that was
opposite the altar, we heard mass, having no other
place. With this I was quite content, because to
me it was the greatest joy and comfort, to behold one
church more in which the most Blessed Sacrament
was placed. But my joy lasted only a little while;
for when mass was over, I chanced to look out into
the court from a window, and saw all the wall in
many places quite in ruins, to repair which required
many days. O my God ! when I beheld thy
Divine Majesty exposed in the streets, at so dangerous a period as we now live in, on account of
these Lutherans, what sorrow and dismay came to
my heart. And to these were joined all the difficulties which those might raise, who before had
greatly opposed me; and I saw clearly they had
much reason in doing so. It now seemed to me
impossible to go on with what I had commenced; for
ad, formerly, all things appeared to be so easy, considering that they were done for God, so now the
temptation had such power, that I thought I never
had received any favour from God: my own baseness and weakness were alone present to me: relying
therefore on so miserable a support, what good success could I hope for? Were I alone, I think I
could have managed better; but the thought of my
companions turning back again to their house, after
all the opposition they met with when they left, this
seemed to me very hard. I also imagined, that
having erred in the beginning, all that I had understood our Lord would do had no foundation; and
a fear came on me immediately, lest what I had
heard in prayer might be a delusion; and this was
not a less, but a greater, source of trouble and uneasiness, because I began to be extremely fearful
lest the devil had deceived me.

O ! my God, what a sight is it to behold a soul,
which Thou art pleased to leave in such pain ! Truly,
when I remember this and other afflictions which I
suffered during these Foundations, it appears to me
that no account is to be made of bodily pains, though
I have endured very severe ones. But notwithstanding all this grief which so much oppressed me, I did
not in any way reveal it to my companions, because
I did not wish to afflict them more than they were
already. In this trouble I passed a great part of the
evening, till the rector of the Society sent a father to
visit me, and he animated and consoled me exceedingly. I did not tell him all my sorrows, but only
that which I felt in seeing ourselves in the street. I
began to speak to him about hiring a house for us
(cost what it might), wherein we might dwell till the
other was repaired. I now began to take courage on
beholding so many people come to us, and no one
accused us of folly, which was a mercy of God; for
had they reflected on our situation, they would have
done quite right to take away the most Blessed
Sacrament from us. Then I considered my own
stupidity, and the little care all the others had, in
not consuming it: but I thought if that were done,
all was undone.

In spite of all the diligence used in seeking a
house, none could be found to let in the whole town,
and this gave me great trouble night and day,
because though I had appointed men to watch and
guard the most Blessed Sacrament, yet I was fearful
lest they might fall asleep; and so I arose in the
night myself to guard it at a window, and by the
clear light of the moon, I could see it from that spot
very plainly. All these days a great multitude came
to see us, and not only were they not displeased, but
their devotion increased the more, to see our Lord
again in a stable; and His Majesty (who is never
weary of humbling Himself for our sake) appeared
unwilling to remove thence. About eight days after,
a merchant, seeing our necessity, and living himself
in a very good house, told us we might have the
upper part of it, where we could dwell as in a house
of our own. He also had a very large hall, with a
gilded roof, and this he gave us for a church: and a
lady that lived near the house we had bought, whose
name was Dona Helena de Quiroga, a great servant
of God, told us she would help us, that so a chapel
might immediately be prepared, in which the most
Blessed Sacrament could be placed; and likewise
'that she would so accommodate us, that we could
live in enclosure. Other persons also liberally contributed alms towards our support; but this lady
assisted us the most. And on this account I began
to feel more quiet and rest, because where we now
were we had perfect enclosure, and began to recite
our office. In fitting up the house, the good prior
took much pains and made great haste: but with all
his labour, it cost him two months; still he repaired
it so well, that we could conveniently have lived
there several years; and since then our Lord has
gone on improving it.

While I was here, I was very desirous of having
monasteries of religious men; but not having one to
commence with (as I already mentioned), I knew
not what to do. At last I resolved to treat very
privately with the prior above mentioned, to see what
he would advise me to do; and so I did. He was
exceedingly glad, when he heard of my intentions,
and promised that he himself would be the first:
but when I heard this, I thought he was in jest, and
so I told him, because though he was always a good
Religious, recollected, and studious, and a lover of
his cell; yet I did not think he was a fit person to
commence such an undertaking, and that he had
sufficient strength and spirit to bear the rigour and
severity requisite for such a life, for he was very
delicate, and not accustomed to any austerities. But
he assured me it was otherwise with him, and he
certified to me that some time ago our Lord had
called him to a stricter life, and also that he had
determined to become a Carthusian, and the fathers
had told him they would receive him. With all
this, however, I was not quite satisfied, though I was
glad to hear it; and I entreated him to wait some
time, and exercise himself in those things he would
have to perform under a vow. He did so for a year,
and during this period so many troubles and false
accusations happened to him, that made it appear
our Lord wished to try him. But he bore all so
well, and advanced so much in perfection, that I
praised our Lord for it, because I thought our Lord
was thus disposing him for this undertaking. A
little after, a father happened to come here, who was
a young man and had been studying at Salamanca,
and he came with another person as a companion.
He told me great things concerning the life which
this Religious led, whose name was Fray Juan de la
Cruz. I gave thanks to our Lord. In speaking
with this Religious, I derived great satisfaction, and
learnt from him that he also was desirous of entering
the Carthusian Order. I immediately acquainted
him with my design, and earnestly entreated him to
wait till our Lord gave us a convent, representing to
him the great good it would produce (if he wished
to make reforms), to commence the work in his own
Order, and how much better he would thereby serve
our Lord. He promised me he would do so, if the
business did not prove too tedious. When I now
saw I had two Religious to commence the work
with, it seemed to me as if the matter was already
accomplished, although I was not entirely satisfied
with the prior; and thus some delay was caused, as
well as by our not having any place to commence the
monastery. The nuns continued to gain credit with
the people, who took much pleasure in them, and I
think with reason; because all had but one object,
which was, how each could best serve our Lord. In
every respect, they observed the same rules that are
kept in the convent of St. Joseph's at Avila: the
constitutions also are the same. Our Lord began to
call some of the sisters to take the habit; and the
favours He granted them were so great, that I was
astonished thereat. May He be for ever blessed.
Amen; for He seeks nothing else but to be loved,
that so He may love us.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

On Certain Favours Which The Lord Bestowed On The Nuns Of
These Monasteries, And On The Manner The Prioresses Should
Conduct Themselves Towards The Sisters.

Before I proceed further, I think it proper (as I
know not how long our Lord may spare my life, or
whether I shall have more leisure, for at present I
have but little) to give some directions whereby the
prioresses may be enabled to judge of and to conduct
those souls committed to them to greater perfection,
though not with so much pleasure to themselves. I
should observe that when I was commanded to write
these â€œ Foundations,â€ omitting the first of St. Joseph
of Avila, which I wrote immediately, there were
already founded (by God's blessing) seven other
monasteries, including that of Alva de Tormes, which
was the last of them; and the reason why no more
were founded was, that my superiors employed me in
another business, as hereafter will be seen. But
considering what happened, for some years, in these
monasteries relating to spiritual things, I see the necessity there is of saying what I now wish to mention.
May it please our Lord, that I may properly treat
this matter, conformably to what I see so necessary.

And since what I am about to speak upon are no
illusions, our minds must not therefore be terrified,
because (as I have said elsewhere in some little
rules I wrote for the sisters), as long as we live in
obedience and with a pure conscience, our Lord never
permits the devil so far to prevail, as to deceive us in
any way prejudicial to our soul; rather does it happen that he himself is often deceived; and as he
knows this, I believe he does not so much produce
this evil in us, as our own perverse inclinations and
bad humours (especially if these be melancholy),
because women are naturally weak, and our self-love
that reigns in us is very subtle: hence, many persons have come to me â€” both men and women â€”
besides the nuns of these monasteries, who I clearly
perceived were often themselves deceived, though
against their will. I firmly believe that the devil is
accustomed to meddle in such matters on purpose to
deceive us; but of the great numbers whom, by
rod's goodness, I have seen, I did not observe that
our Lord abandoned them: perhaps He wished to
exercise them by these fears, that so they might
gain more experience.

The duties concerning prayer and perfection are
so forgotten in the world (on account of our sins),
that I consider it necessary to declare my sentiments
in this manner: for if men, even without seeing any
danger, are afraid to walk this way, what would it
be, if they were told there was some danger ? It is true, however, that in everything there is some danger; and therefore, as long as we live, we should in
all things walk in fear, and beseech our Lord to.
teach us the right way, and not forsake us. But (as I
I believe I once said) if sometimes we are permitted
to fear, can those fear who strive earnestly to think
of God, and endeavour to become more and more
perfect ? O, my Lord ! as we see that Thou often deliverest us from dangers into which we wilfully throw
ourselves, even to offend Thee, shall we believe
that Thy Majesty will not free us, when we have
no other object or desire but to please Thee, and
entertain ourselves with Thee? This I can never
suppose. It might indeed happen, that God by
certain secret judgments may permit some things to
fall out in one way, and others in a different way,
but never did he draw evil out of good. And thus
we should hereby be excited to walk faster on our
road to perfection, that so we may please our Spouse:
and find Him the sooner; but this should not make
us weary; rather it should animate us to walk with
fortitude over the rough passes of this life, and not
be terrified with our journey, since in the end, by
walking with humility we shall, through God's
mercy, arrive at the city of the heavenly Jerusalem,
where all that we have endured in this life will
appear little or nothing, in comparison with the
glory we shall possess.

As now these little dove-cots of the Blessed
Virgin our Lady began to fill, so His Divine Majesty
began also to show His greatness in these poor, weak
women, though strong in good desires and in a disengagement from every creature; and this it is that
tends most to unite a soul with her Creator, especially if we walk with a pure conscience. There is no
need to prove this point, for if the disengagement be
real and sincere, it seems to me impossible to offend
God. And as all their discourses and meditations
relate to him, so His Majesty appears unwilling to
depart from them. This is what I now see, and
speak of with truth. Let those fear who shall come
after us and read these words: and if they see not
what we now see, let them not ascribe it to the
times, for at all times God is ever ready to bestow
good favours upon those who serve him in earnest,
and endeavour to discover and correct whatever imperfection there may be in them.

I have sometimes heard it said concerning the
beginnings of Religious Orders, that because they
were beginnings, our Lord bestowed greater favours
on those saints who preceded us. And so indeed it
is: but we should consider that we also are foundations for those who come after us; and if we who
are now living had not fallen away from the fervour
of our predecessors, and if those who succeed us
should not do the like, the building would always
continue firm and immoveable. What good do I
gain, that the saints before me were so perfect, if I
who have come after them continue so wicked, leaving
the edifice quite ruined and destroyed by my evil
habits ? For it is evident, that they who come after
us do not so much regard those who have long
passed away, as they do those whom they see present .
The excuse we make in not belonging to the first
beginnings is quite ridiculous, for we consider not
the difference there is between our life and virtue,
and the life of those saints on whom God bestowed
such great favours. O my God ! what false excuses
and what manifest cheats are these ! lam grieved,

O my God! for being so wicked, and for having
done so little in Thy service. But I know well,
the fault lies entirely on my side, that Thou bestow
not on me those favours which Thou showed to my
predecessors; my life confounds me, O Lord, when

I compare it with theirs, and I cannot speak of it
without tears. I see I have lost that which they
earnestly laboured for, and in no way can I complain of Thee; it is not good that any should complain; but if they should see their Order failing in
anything, let them endeavour to become such stones
in it as may be serviceable in repairing the building,
and our Lord will keep them therein.

But to return to my subject (for I have digressed
much) , the favours which our Lord bestows in these
Houses are very great, for he conducts them all by
means of meditation, and some have attained perfect
contemplation, while others have advanced so far as
to have raptures; and on several more our Lord
bestows favours of another kind, giving them in
addition revelations and visions, which it is quite
evident do come from God. There is now no House
in which may not be found one, or two, or three
such favoured souls. I am well aware that sanctity
does not consist in visions, etc.: but it is not my intention solely to praise these nuns, but to make it
appear that the remarks I have wished to make are
not without a purpose.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Some Directions Concerning Prater.

It is not my intention nor wish, that what I shall
now say should be considered so true and just, as
to be taken for an infallible rule, for it would be quite
foolish to do this in matters so difficult. But as there
are many paths in this road of the Spirit, I may
perhaps say something to the point concerning some
of them; and if they who walk not in this path
understand me not. it may be that they walk in
another way. But if I benefit no one, may our
Lord accept my good-will, since He knows that
although I have not experienced all this myself, I
have observed it in other souls.

And first of all I wish to show (according to my
poor capacity), in what consists the nature of perfect
prayer. For I have met with some, who seem to
imagine the whole matter to consist in thinking; and
if they can keep their mind fixed on God, th6ugh by
using great violence to themselves, they immediately
consider themselves to be spiritual persons; and if
(being unable to continue thinking any longer) they
should be obliged to turn their mind to anything
else, even to things good and meritorious, they immediately become greatly afflicted, and fancy they
are lost. Persons who are well instructed will not
have such ignorant fancies (though I have met with
such); but as for us women, it is proper we should be
instructed concerning everything. I admit that it
is a favour of our Lord, to be able always to keep
our thoughts fixed on Him, and to be meditating on
His works, and it is good to endeavour to do this:
but we must remember that all minds are not
naturally fit for such an exercise: but to love, all
souls are fit. In another place I have mentioned the
causes of this inconstancy of our imagination, but I
think I did not mention all, for this would be impossible, but only some of them. At present, therefore, I do not treat of these, but only wish it to be
understood, that the soul is not the thinking, nor the
willing, though it be fit the soul should regulate
herself by them, otherwise sad would be her lot, as I
said above: hence the proficiency of the soul consists,
not in much thinking, but in much loving. And if
you ask me how this love must be acquired, I answer,
by resolving to do the Divine Will, and to suffer for
God, and in effect doing so, when occasion shall
offer.

It is quite true, that by thinking on what we owe
to God; who He is, and who we are, the soul gradually acquires a determined will, which brings great
merit, and for beginners is very excellent and useful:
but this is to be understood only when nothing
comes to interfere with obedience, and the welfare of
our neighbour, to which charity binds us: for in such
points relating to either of these two duties, we must
find time to leave that which we desire so much to
give to God, viz. (in our opinion), being alone meditating on Him, and rejoicing in the caresses He
bestows on us. To leave these delights for any of
the two objects above mentioned, is to please Him
and to do what He himself has spoken of with His
own mouth: â€” â€œ Amen, I say to you, as long as
you did it to one of these my least brethren, you did
it to me." (St. Matthew xxv. 40.) And as regards
obedience, He wishes us to walk in no other way.
Whoever, therefore, loves Him, let him follow our
Lord, for He â€œ became obedient even unto death."
If then this be true, whence proceed that disgust
which we frequently find in us, when for a great
part of the day we have not been retired and absorbed
in. God, although we were engaged in these other
things ? In my opinion, it proceeds from two causes.
(1) . The first and principal one is, our own â€œ self-love,â€ which in a very subtle manner mixes itself up
with our actions, and therefore cannot easily be discovered; and this self-love consists in wishing to
please ourselves rather than God, for it is quite clear,
that when a soul has once begun to taste â€œhow
sweet" is the Lord, she finds greater pleasure in her
body being free from labour, and her heart being
delighted by Divine caresses. O! the charity of
those who truly love their Lord, and know their own
condition! How little rest do they take, if they
can be of any use in advancing the welfare of one
soul, and increasing her love of God; or if they can
give her any comfort, or free her from any danger !
How little do such souls look to their own individual
comfort ! And when they can do no good by their
works, they endeavour to do something by their
prayers, importuning our Lord in behalf of those
numerous souls whom they grieve to see in danger of
eternal destruction; and thus bewailing their lot,
they lose all their own pleasure, and consider it as
quite lost, because they pay no regard to their own
happiness, but consider only how they may best
accomplish the will of God. And thus it is with
obedience: it would be a strange thing, if when God
should clearly tell us to do something which regarded
Him, we should not do it, but stand gazing upon
Him, because we thus pleased ourselves the most !
This would indeed be a curious advancement in the
love of God: it would be binding His hands, under
the idea that there was but one way in which He
could make us advance.

Omitting what I myself have experienced (as I
have said), I know many persons with whom I have
spoken, who have instructed me in this truth, when
I was in great trouble for having so little leisure;
and thus I pitied them to see them always occupied
in business and in other matters, which obedience
commanded; and I thought within myself (as I told
them), that it was impossible, amidst such confusion
and disturbance, to increase in virtue. O Lord,
how different are Thy ways from our ideas ! And
what dost Thou require of a soul, who is already determined to love Thee, and give herself entirely into
Thy hands, but that she should obey and inform
herself of what tends most to Thy service, and this
desire and nothing more ? She has no need to seek
out new paths, nor to choose between them, for her
will is now Thy will. Thou, O my Lord, takest upon
Thyself the care of conducting her where she shall
advance the most. And though the superior may
not take: the trouble of guiding her in the way most
advantageous to her, but employs her only in those
duties which he thinks tend most to the good of the
community, yet, Thou, O my God ! dost conduct her,
disposing her and all her employments in such a
manner, that (without her understanding how) she
finds herself advancing in spirit with great profit,
obeying with fidelity every command, so that afterwards she is astonished thereat. Such an one was
that person, with whom I spoke a few days since,
who by obedience had for fifteen years been so
engaged in his; duties and offices, that during all this
period he did not remember to have had one day for
himself, although he endeavoured (as far as best he
could) to devote some spare time in the day to prayer,
and the purifying of his conscience. This soul was
the most inclined to obedience that I ever saw, and
he even imprints this virtue on all with whom he
converses. Our Lord has liberally rewarded him,
for (without his knowing how) he enjoys that
liberty of soul so highly valuable, which the perfect
possess, and in which consists all the happiness that
can be hoped for in this life; for, deserving nothing,
he possesses all things. Such souls neither fear,
nor covet anything on earth; afflictions do not disturb them, nor pleasures elate them; in fine, nothing
can rob them of their peace, since it depends on God
alone; and since nothing can take God away from
them, the fear of losing Him can alone disturb them.
Everything else in the world is in their eyes as if it
were not, because it neither gives nor takes away their
joy. O happy obedience ! Happy distraction ! which
can procure us so much good. But this is not the
only person whom I have known: there are many
others whom I have known in like manner, though I
have not seen them for several years. And when I
asked them in what employments they had passed
their time, I found they were entirely occupied in
works of obedience and charity. On the other hand,
I perceived such an improvement in them in spiritual
things, that I was astonished. Oh then, my daughters,
let there be no neglect: but when obedience calls
you to exterior employments (as, for example, into
kitchen, amidst the pots and dishes), remember that
our Lord goes along with you, to help you both in
your interior and exterior duties,

I remember a Religious once told me, that he had
determined within himself always to do whatever his
superior should command him, no matter what trouble it gave him. One day it happened that being
quite spent with labour, and not able to stand on his
legs, he wished to rest himself, for it was evening.
When he had sat down, his superior came and found
him, and bade him take a spade, and go dig in the
garden. The good man said nothing, though so
completely exhausted that he could do nothing: he
took his spade, however, and as he was going into
the garden by a certain passage (which I saw many
years after this was related to me, when I founded a
house in the very town) our Lord appeared to him
with His cross on His shoulders, and so faint and
weary as to make him understand, that what he
then suffered was nothing in comparison with what
his Saviour endured.

I believe that as the devil knows well there is no
path which conducts us sooner to the highest perfection than that of obedience, it is for this reason
he tries to raise so many disgusts and difficulties under the appearance of good, and let this truth
be marked well, and men will clearly see I speak the
truth. It is manifest, that the highest perfection
does not consist in interior delights, nor in sublime
raptures, nor in visions, nor in having the gift of
prophecy, but in making our will so conformable with
the will of God, that whatever we know He shall
desire, that also we shall desire with our whole affection; and we shall receive what is bitter as joyfully
as what is sweet and pleasant, remembering that
such is the will of His Divine Majesty. This appears
a most difficult thing, not so much to do it, as to
take pleasure in that which is directly opposed to
our natural inclinations: that such is the case is
quite true: but love (if it be perfect) is so powerful,
that we forget our own pleasure in order to please
Him whom our soul loves. But most certain it is,
that however great our labours may be, when we
know that thereby we please God, they become
sweet to us. And in this manner those who have
arrived at such perfection love persecutions, and
disgrace, and injuries.

This truth is so certain and so clear, that there is
no necessity to dwell on it. I particularly wish it to
be understood, that the reason why obedience (in my
opinion) is so quick and so sure a means of arriving
at so happy a state, is this, that as we are by no
means masters of our own will, so as purely and
sincerely to devote it all to God, and to subject it to
reason, obedience is the shortest and most efficacious
means of doing so. To hope to subject it by sound
arguments is never to come to a conclusion, and is a
path broad and dangerous withal: for our nature
and self-love invent so many reasons, that we should
never attain this state of obedience, and often what
our reason considers the best, that appears to us
foolish on account of the little pleasure we feel in
doing it. ) I have so much to say on this subject,
that I should never end with speaking of this interior
conflict, and of all the excuses the devil, the world,
and our own sensuality raise, to induce us to deviate
from our reason. What then is the remedy ? It is
this: just as an umpire is chosen in a very doubtful
law-suit, and the parties, tired with going to law,
place the matter in his hands (â€œ and abide by his
decisionâ€) so the soul chooses a person, either her
superior or confessor, with the determination to
have nothing to do with law-suits, nor to think more
of her cause, but to rely upon the words of our
Lord, who has said, â€œ He that hears you, hears me,â€
and not to heed her own will. Our Lord values
this submission so much, that by exercising ourselves therein a few times, and disengaging ourselves
from self-love (though this cost us a thousand conflicts, which appear to us ridiculous, as we are
judges in our own cause), we arrive by this painful
exercise, to conform our will with what we are commanded; but with or without pain, we at length
do it; and our Lord helps us so much on his side,
that because we subject our will and reason to others
for His sake. He makes us masters of our will.
Then (being masters of ourselves) we are enabled
with perfect freedom to direct it entirely to God,
giving him a sincere will, that He may unite it with
His, and beseeching Him that the fire of his love
may descend from Heaven and consume the sacrifice, we on our own part avoiding all that may displease Him, and then there is no more to be done
by us, having (though after many labours) placed
our will on the altar, and as far as lies in us, not
suffering it to be defiled by the earth.

It is evident no one can give what he has not,
but he must first have it himself: believe me, then,
that to acquire this treasure, there is no better way
than to dig and labour for it in the mine of obedience; and the more we shall dig, the more we shall
find, and the more w r e subject ourselves to men
(having no other will but that of our superiors) , the
more we shall be masters of our w T ill, to conform it
to that of God. See, sisters, if our leaving the
delights of solitude be not well rewarded ! I tell
you, that for want of it, you will not fail to dispose
yourselves for obtaining this true union above mentioned, which is to make our will one with God's
will. This is the will I desire and wish to see in
you all, and not raptures, however sweet they may
be, to which the name of union has been given, and
such it may be if accompanied by what I have
spoken of; but if there be little obedience after this
rapture and our own will remains, this will be
united with self-love (in my opinion) and not with
the will of God: may His Divine Majesty be pleased
that I may practise what I understand.

The second cause of this disgust is, I think, the
following: that as in solitude there are less opportunities of offending God, though some can never be
wanting (considering how the devil and ourselves
are in every place), the soul seems to advance with
more purity, and (if she be afraid of offending Him)
it is indeed a very great comfort to have no stumbling-blocks in our way. And certainly this appears
to me a stronger reason not to desire to speak with
any one, than to enjoy great consolations and
delights from God. But here it is, my daughters,
that your love must appear, not in comers, but in
the midst of occasions: and believe me, that though
there may be more imperfections (and even some
slight faults), yet our gain is beyond all comparison
greater. Remember, however, that I always speak
under the supposition we perform those duties by
obedience and charity: and when these do not bind
us, I always maintain that solitude is better, and
that we may desire it even though engaged in the
duties I have mentioned. Indeed, this desire is
continually found in those souls who sincerely love
God. I say then it is a gain to us, because those
occasions make us understand who we are, and
how far we have advanced in virtue. A person who
is always in solitude (however holy he may appear
to be) knows not if he possess patience and humility,
nor has he any means of knowing this. In the same
manner, how can a man know if he be very courageous, unless he has been in a battle? St. Peter
thought himself very brave, but you know what he
was when temptation came, though he rose again
after his fall, confiding on no account in himself,
but ever after putting all his trust in God: afterwards he suffered the martyrdom we read of. O !
my God, would that we knew the greatness of our
misery ! In everything there is danger, if we only
could perceive it, but we do not, and on this account
there is great advantage in our being commanded to
do things, because we then see our own baseness.
One day spent in humility and in a knowledge of ourselves, I consider to be a greater favour of our Lord
(though it cost us many afflictions and labours) than
many days spent in prayer: and this the more so, because a true lover loves everywhere, and always is
thinking of his beloved. It would be hard if our
prayers could only be made in comers, and I already
see there will not be many hours left thus to be spent:
but, O my Lord ! how powerful with Thee is one sigh
coming from the bottom of an afflicted heart, when
we see that it is not enough for us to live in this
land of exile, but that we also want the opportunity
of being in solitude, so as to be able to enjoy Thee. '
Here it appears that we are His slaves, willingly
sold (by His love) to the virtue of obedience, since
for it we in a manner forego the enjoyment of God
himself: and all this is nothing, if we consider that
He, through obedience, descended from the bosom
of His Father, and made himself our slave ! With
what then can this favour be repaid ? We must
proceed with caution, and in no way neglect ourselves so far in these duties (done by obedience
and charity) â€” as not frequently to think of God in
our interior. And, believe me, it is not length of
time which makes a soul advance in prayer, but when
being called to other works by obedience and
charity, they do these duties well, then (as I have
said) the soul advances so much, that in a very
short time she is better prepared for enkindling
within her the love of God, than (wanting these
works) she would be by spending many hours in meditation. All must come from his hand: may He be
blessed for ever and ever.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

She Shows The Harm That May Happen To Spiritual Persons
By Their Not Understanding When They Should Resist The
Spirit. She Also Treats Of The Desires A Soul May Have
To Communicate, And Of The Deceit There May Be In Doing
So. Other Important Matters Are Mentioned For The Government Of The Houses.

I have endeavoured with diligence to understand
whence proceeds that great abstraction of mind
which I have seen in some persons, to whom our
Lord gave many delights in prayer, and who are
not slothful in disposing themselves to receive such
favours. I do not here treat of the manner in which
a soul is suspended and rapt by the Divine Majesty,
for in another place I have written much on this
matter; and besides, in such cases, much need not
be said, because, if the rapture be true and real , we
can do nothing ourselves, however much we may
resist; and I should remark, that the violence which
prevents us from being masters of ourselves lasts
but a short time. But it often happens that there
begins a prayer of Quiet, f in the manner of a spiritual sleep, which suspends the soul in such a way,
that, unless we know how to proceed therein, much
time may be lost, and our strength wasted, through
our own fault, and with little merit. I should be
glad to know how to make myself understood on this
subject; but, being so difficult, I know not if I shall
succeed: but I am certain, that would those souls
believe me who walk in this delusion, they might
understand me.

I have known some persons who were thus rapt
for seven or eight hours, and these were individuals of great virtue, and everything seemed to
them to be a rapture; and any holy exercise so
influenced them, that they were immediately out
of themselves, thinking it would be wrong to resist
our Lord; and thus, by little and little, they might
have died, or become foolish, if no remedy had
been applied. What I know in this case is, that
when our Lord begins to caress a soul (and our
% nature is fond of delights), she is so engaged with
this pleasure, that she neither desires to stir, nor to
lose it on any account. And to speak the truth, it
is more delicious than any pleasures of the world;
and this takes place in a weak nature or understanding; or, to speak more correctly, when the imagination is not changeable, but, seizing on a subject,
dwells upon it, without wandering from it, as is the
case with many people, who, as soon as they begin
to think on something (though not upon God), or
looking upon something, without reflecting on what
they see, remain absorbed: these are persons of
a quiet nature, who through inadvertence seem to
forget what they are going to say. Now, the same
thing happens here, according to our weak nature
or constitution; and if the persons should be of a
melancholy disposition, it will discover to them a
thousand pleasant fancies.

Of this disposition I will speak a little later; but
though there should be no melancholy, what I have
mentioned still takes place; and even in persons
worn out with mortifications, for (as I have said)
love beginning to give them sensible delights, they
allow themselves to be carried away too much by
them; and, in my opinion, they would love much
better , if they did not thus suffer themselves to be
caressed, for in this degree of prayer they may very
well resist. For as when the constitution is weak,
a fainting is perceived which does not allow us to
speak or move, so it is the same here, if no resistance
be made, because the strength of the soul, if nature
be weak, overcomes and subjects it.

Some one may ask me, what is the difference between this suspension of the soul and a rapture ? It is
the same, at least in appearance, and they have
reason for their opinion; but it is not so in reality.
For, a rapture, or union of all the powers, lasts but a
short time (as I have said), and leaves great effects
and an interior light in the soul, with many other
great benefits: the understanding does nothing, but #
our Lord it is who works in the will. But in the
other case it is quite different: for although the
body be seized, yet the will, the memory, and the
understanding are not, but all perform their functions, though irregularly, and perhaps without staying long on one thing: here the difference will be
discovered.

As to myself, I found no benefit whatever in this
painful weakness of the body, except that it had
a good beginning: it is more useful to employ
this time well, than to continue so long absorbed.
Much more may be gained by complying with duties
commanded by obedience; by not weakening ourselves, and making ourselves unable to obey, than by
allowing ourselves to be carried away by an abstraction, which shortens our life, and does not suffer us
to obey. I therefore advise the prioresses to use all
possible diligence in removing these long faintings,
which (in my opinion) serve no other purpose but to
give an opportunity to the intellect and senses to
neglect what the soul commands them; and thus
they deprive her of the benefits which are accustomed
to be gained, by obedience and carefulness in pleasing
God.

If the prioresses discover that this arises from
weakness, they should forbid the fasts and disciplines
(I speak of those only which are not obligatory, and
at times it may happen that even these may be dispensed with without blame), and give them some
employments to divert their mind. And even should
they not have these fainting fits (if they keep the
imagination well employed, even on very sublime
points of prayer), still this will be necessary; for it
often happens that they are not masters of themselves, and especially if they have received from our
Lord some extraordinary favour, or have seen some
vision, the soul remains affected in such a manner,
that she imagines she is always seeing a vision; and
it is not so, for she saw it only once. Whoever finds
herself possessed with this abstraction for many days,
should endeavour to change her meditation, or direct
it to some other object; for, as it regards the things
of God, there is (as I have before said) no inconvenience in either dwelling on one point, or choosing
another; and God is often as much pleased by our
considering His creatures, and the wisdom and power
He has shown in creating them, as in our thinking
of Himself the Creator.

O deplorable misery of man ! who by sin art so
corrupt, that even in what is good we have need of
rule and measure, in order that we run no risk of
losing our salvation. And indeed it behoves many
persons, especially if they have weak heads or a
strong imagination, to understand that thus they
serve our Lord better; and when any one sees that
if she represent to her imagination some mystery of
the passion, or the glory of heaven, or any other
similar subject, and that she cannot (though she
desire) think on anything else, nor free herself from
this abstraction, then let her remember to direct
herself to something else as well as she can; for if
not, the time will come when she will understand
the loss, and experience that it arises from what I
said above, viz., either from a great weakness of
body, or from the imagination, which is still worse.
For as an idiot, when he thinks on anything, is not
master of himself, nor can he withdraw his mind, or
think of something else, and no reasoning can move
him to do so, because he is not master of his reason;
so it may happen here, although it be a pleasing
madness. But what if the person happens to be of
a melancholy disposition? It may do her a great
deal of harm. I cannot understand what good it
will be, for the reasons above mentioned; and this
the more so, as the soul is capable of enjoying God
Himself; and as He is also infinite, the soul seems
captive by being tied to the consideration of only one
of His perfections or mysteries, whereas, as there are
so many, the more she considers His works, the more
would she discover His perfections.

I say not that in one hour, or in one day, you
should think of many things, for this would be perhaps to enjoy more will: but the subjects are so nice
and subtle, that I would not have you suppose what
I never intended to say, nor mistake one thing for
another. Indeed, it is so important you should
understand this chapter well, that (although I have
digressed in writing it) I am not sorry for it; and
I should be glad if those who do not understand it
well at first would often read it over, especially the
prioresses and mistresses of novices, who have to
instruct the sisters in prayer. For they will see
(unless they proceed with care in the beginning)
that it will take a long time afterwards to remedy
such infirmities.

Were I to give an account of the great harm which
I myself have known has arisen from this cause, you
would see what powerful reasons I have to insist so
much on this point. One instance I wish to relate,
and from this the rest may be inferred. In one of
our monasteries there lived two nuns; one was a
choir nun, and the other a lay sister. Both were
versed in the highest degree of prayer, which was
united with mortification, humility, and other virtues; and also they received many caresses from our
Lord, to whom He communicated sublime ideas of
His greatness; and especially they were so disengaged from earth, and so taken up with His love,
that they seemed not to be wanting in corresponding
(according to our lowliness) with all these favours
our Lord showed them â€” (though we endeavoured
much to try them in various ways) . I have spoken
thus of their virtue, in order that others may fear
who do not possess it. Certain violent impulses and
desires of enjoying our Lord began to seize them,
and these they were not able to overcome: they
were, however, satisfied a little when the sisters
received the holy communion, and hence they asked
their confessorâ€™s leave to communicate often; and so
much did their pain increase, that if they did not
communicate every day , they imagined they should
die.

The confessors, beholding these souls filled with
such ardent desires (and one of the confessors was a
very spiritual man), judged this to be a remedy for
their malady. But the matter did not rest here, for
one of the sisters had such ardent desires, that it
was necessary to communicate her every morning, in
order (as she imagined) to keep life in her; for these
were persons that would not, on any account, make
a false pretence, nor tell a lie for the whole world.
I was not there at the time, but the prioress sent me
an account of what passed, saying she knew not how
to act with them, and that such and such individuals
told her this remedy should be used, since there was
no other. I soon perceived what the matter was, for
it was God's will I should: I said nothing, however,
till I came myself, for I feared I might be deceived;
and it was reasonable that he who approved the act
should not be contradicted, till I gave my reasons
against it.

One of the confessors was so humble, that as soon
as I arrived, and spoke with him on the subject, he
believed me. The other was not so spiritual a man,
and indeed, in comparison with the former, nothing,
so that I was quite unable to persuade him; but I
did not trouble myself much about him, not having
the same obligations towards him as to the other. I
now began to reason with the sisters, and to offer
many weighty (according to my judgment) arguments, sufficient to make them understand it was
only an â€œ imagination â€ to think they would die if
they did not communicate. But they were so deeply
persuaded they were right, that no reasoning did, or
could, persuade them of the contrary. I saw all that
I said was useless, and therefore I told them, that I
myself had the like desires, and yet would not communicate, in order they might believe that they also
should do the same, unless when the rest communicated. I also told them, that if we were to die, all
three of us should die; for I considered this better
than to introduce the like practice into these houses,
where lived persons who loved God as much as they
did, and desired to do as much for Him.

But the mischief produced by this custom was so
great (the devil likewise meddling in the matter),
that when they did not communicate, they really
thought they should die. I showed great severity
towards them, for the more I saw they would not
subject themselves to obedience (since, in their
judgment, they could not act otherwise), the more
clearly I was convinced that it was a temptation.
The first day they passed with great difficulty, the
next with a little less, and thus by little and little
their pain abated, insomuch so, that, although I communicated through obedience (otherwise I should
not have done so, seeing them so weak), they were
very content. A short time after, they and all the
others were convinced it was a temptation; and it
was well a remedy was found; for, not long afterwards some troubles with the superiors happened in
that house, though not by their fault (and I may
a little further on say something of this matter),
for they would not approve nor suffer such practices.

O ! how many like examples could I relate ! But
I will mention only one (it did not happen in a convent of our Order, but in one of St. Bernardâ€™s) . There
lived in it a nun (very virtuous she was also), who used
many disciplines and fasted much, and hence she
became so weak, that every time she communicated,
or had occasion to inflame her heart with devotion,
she immediately fell on the ground, and remained
thus for eight or nine hours, she herself and every
one else supposing it to be a rapture. This happened
so often, that if a remedy had not been applied, I
believe she would have suffered much harm. The
report of these raptures spread through all the town;
I was sorry to hear of it, for God wished me to understand what was in reality the case, and I feared
what it might come to. Her confessor, who was a
father well known to me, came and related the matter
to me. I gave him my opinion, and told him it was
weakness and loss of time, and had no appearance of
a rapture, and I begged him to prohibit her disciplines and fasting, and make her do something to
divert her mind; She obeyed him in everything;
and gradually recovering her strength, she had no
more raptures: but if it had been a true rapture, no
remedy would have been sufficient, until it was Godâ€™s
will. For so great is the power of the Spirit, that
our strength is not sufficient to resist (as I have
said), and He leaves great effects in the soul, as
well as a lassitude in the body; but not so this
other.

We may then conclude, from what I have said,
that we should suspect whatever subjects us in such
a manner, that we perceive our reason is not less
free, for by this way liberty of spirit will never be
gained, since one of its properties is, to find God in
all things, and to be able to meditate on them; all
the rest is a subjection of the spirit, and besides the
harm the body receives, it binds the soul and prevents her growth. And as when we are travelling
along a road, we fall into a quagmire and cannot get
out of it, so is it in some respect with the soul,
which in order to advance onwards, has need not
only to walk, but also to fly. O ! what a delusion is
it when they say, or when they imagine, that they
walk absorbed in the Divinity, and cannot assist
themselves, and so far are they transported, that
there is no means of diverting them! And this
happens very often. Let them beware, I advise
them again and again: for one day, or for four or
eight days, there is not much to fear, since it is not
to be wondered, if weak nature should continue in
this state for a few days; but if it exceed this
period, then some remedy is necessary. The pith of
these remarks is, that there is no fault, nor sin, nor
cessation of merit, but there are those inconveniences
I have mentioned: and much greater are they with
regard to the Holy Communion, when a soul which
loves is not subject (even in this matter) either to
her confessor or the prioress, and though solitude
afflicts her.

It is requisite in this also as well as in other matters,
to mortify them and give them to understand, that it
is better for them not to do their own will, than to
seek their own consolation. Herein our own self-love may also interfere, for it happened to me that as
soon as I had communicated (though the species
still remained entire), if I saw any others communicate, I then wished not to have received, that I
might receive again; and as this happened very
often, I afterwards perceived (for then there seemed
to be nothing which could correct me), that this
arose more from my own pleasure than from the love of
God; because when we receive the Holy Communion,
we feel in some respect a certain tenderness and
pleasure; and these it was which attracted me. If I
had approached for the possession of God, I had
Him already in my soul; if to fulfil the commands of
my superiors, who require me to approach the Holy
Communion, I had done it already; if for the reception of the graces which are given in the Most
Blessed Sacrament, I had received them already. At
length I clearly understood, that I was not to desire
communicating again, in order merely to have that
sensible delight.

I remember that in a certain place where I lived,
and in which there was a convent of ours, I knew a
woman who was a very great servant of God, according to the belief of all the people; and she must
indeed have been such, for she communicated every
day; she had, however, no particular confessor, but
sometimes went to one church, and sometimes to
another, to communicate. I remarked this, and
would have preferred to see her obedient to one
person, rather than communicate so often. She
lived in a house by herself, doing (as I thought)
what she liked: but as she was good and virtuous,
all that she did was good. I spoke to her several
times, but she paid no regard to me, and with reason,
for she was much better than I; yet in this matter I
thought I was not mistaken. St. Peter of Alcantara
happened to come there, and I induced him to speak
to her: but I was not satisfied with the account he
gave me of her, though I ought to have been, were
we not such miserable creatures that we are never
satisfied except with those who think the same as we
do. For I believe this woman served our Lord
better, and did more penance in one year than I did
in many years. She became dangerously ill, and
used all diligence in having mass said every day in
her house, and being communicated. But as her
sickness continued some time, the priest, a great
servant of God, and who often said mass for her,
thought it improper she should be communicated
every day in her house. Accordingly, one day,
after mass, as he would not communicate her, tins
made her very peevish and so angry with the priest,
that he came and told me the whole affair, and was
greatly scandalized thereat (this must therefore have
been a temptation of the devil, for it happened on the
day she died).

I was exceedingly troubled when I heard of this
matter, for I think she died immediately, and I
know not whether or no she made her peace with
God. From this event I came to know the great
evil which befalls us, by doing our own will in
anything, and especially in so important a matter.
For he that approaches his Lord so often ought to be
sensible of his own unworthiness in such a manner
as not to approach by his own choice; but what is
wanting to him for receiving so great a Lord, which
must indeed be much, the virtue of obedience may
supply, which commands him to approach. Here a
good opportunity offered itself to this good woman,
of humbling herself (and perhaps she would have
merited more than by communicating), and of understanding how the priest was no way in fault, but our
Lord (seeing her misery and unworthiness) so ordained it.

Another person acted differently, who was frequently not allowed by her confessors to receive,
because she received too often; and although she
felt this privation very tenderly, yet considering, on
the other hand, God's honour more than her own
pleasure, she did nothing but praise God for having
raised up a confessor who would take care of her,
that His Divine Majesty might not enter into so
mean a lodging; and by these considerations she
obeyed with great peace of soul, though with a
tender and amorous pain; but she would not for the
whole world have acted contrary to what she had
been commanded.

Let them believe me, that by this love of God (I
say that it is such only in our own opinion) â€” which
moves the passions in such a manner as to lead us
into some offence against him, or which disturbs the
peace of the enamoured soul to such a degree that
she hears not reason, then it is clear that by such a
love we seek ourselves; and the devil will not desist
from attacking us, when he thinks he can do us
most harm, just as he did to this woman. And that
accident terrified me much; not, however, because
she would not believe me, for I do not consider this
would be sufficient cause to endanger her salvation,
since the goodness of God is exceeding great, but
because the temptation came at a dangerous time.
I give this account here, in order that the prioresses
may be on their guard, and that the sisters may fear,
consider, and examine themselves on the manner in
which they approach to receive so great a favour. If
to please God, let them know that He is more pleased
with obedience than with sacrifice; and if so, and the
merit be greater, what can disturb us? I do not
say they should be without some humiliating pain,
because all do not arrive at such great perfection
as to experience no pain, and to do only that which
pleases God the most. But if the will be entirely
estranged from all self-interest, it will clearly feel no
pain; rather will it rejoice to have an opportunity of
pleasing our Lord, in a matter which costs it so
dearly; and it will humble itself and be content
with a spiritual communion. But because in the
beginnings it is a favour which our Lord shows them
in giving them ardent desires of approaching Him
(it is so in the end also, but I say, "in the beginnings,â€ because then they are to be esteemed more);
and because in other things relating to perfection
(mentioned before) they are not so strong, it is
wisely allowed them to feel some pain and tenderness when they are deprived of the Holy Communion, and yet this is united with calmness of
mind and acts of humility. But when it is attended
with altercation and passion, and they are discontented with the prioress or confessor, let them
believe it to be a manifest temptation: but if any
one resolved to communicate (though her confessor
told her not), I would not wish to have the merit
arising from such a communion, for in such matters
we must not be our own judges: he that holds the
keys to bind and to loose must be the judge. May
our Lord be pleased to give us light to understand
subjects so important; and may his assistance be
not wanting, that so we may never, from the favours
He shows us, take occasion to offend Him.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

How The Prioresses Should Conduct Themselves Towards
Those Who Are Melancholy.

These my Sisters of St. Josephâ€™s at Salamanca,
where I am now writing, have entreated me to give
some instructions how the prioresses should treat
those who are of a melancholy disposition; for in
spite of all the diligence used not to admit such
persons, the humour is so subtle that it feigns itself
dead, and thus we do not discover it till no remedy
is of any use. I think I have said something on
this subject in a little book [The Way of Perfection] I wrote, though I do
not remember what. Much will not be lost if I say
something here, and may our Lord be pleased that
I may say something to the purpose; and though
I have spoken on the matter in another place, I
would repeat it a hundred times over, if I thought
I could hit upon something that would prove useful.

The artifices which this humour seeks out in order
to do its own will are so many, that it is necessary to
trace them to be able to bear with such persons, and
to govern them, without suffering them to do harm
to others.

We must observe that those who are troubled
with melancholy, are not all equally to be blamed;
for when it appears in a person of a mild and
humble disposition, although they may be troublesome to themselves, they do no injury to others,
especially if they possess a good understanding, and
also according as they are more or less possessed
with this humour. I certainly believe the devil uses
it, in some persons, as a means of gaining them;
and if they do not proceed with great care, he will
attain his object, for the aim of this humour is to
subject the reason, which thereby becomes obscured.
With such a disposition, then, what will not our
passions do? Where there is no reason, persons
must be fools: but that these should esteem themselves and be considered as reasonable beings, when
in reality they have no reason, this is an intolerable
evil. Those indeed who are really affected with
this disposition are to be pitied, since they do no
harm: if there be any way to keep them in subjection, it is fear.

With regard to those in whom this pernicious evil
has only begun to appear (for though it is not so deeply
rooted, it comes from the same root and stock), when
other means are of no avail, then the same remedy
must be used, and the superioresses should make use
of the â€œ penances â€ of the Order, and endeavour so
to subdue them as to make them understand they
are not in any way to have their own will. For if
they once perceive that their clamours and passion
have sometimes prevailed (which the devil excites in
them to drive them to perdition), they are ruined;
and only one such is quite sufficient to disturb a
whole monastery. For as the poor individual has of
herself no strength to defend her from the temptations of the devil, it is requisite that the superioress
should proceed with the greatest care in governing
her, not only in her exterior, but also in the interior; for the reason which is obscured in the
infirm person ought to be clear in the superioress,
lest the devil should begin to captivate that soul,
using this evil as his instrument; and when it comes
at certain times, it is very dangerous, for then the
humour oppresses the soul to such a degree, that the
reason is destroyed, though in such a case there is
no fault, as there is none in idiots, whatever extravagances they may commit. But those who are not
so, and though their reason may be weak, have
nevertheless some use of it, and at other times are
well, these should not be allowed to use their liberty
at the times when they are not well, that afterwards,
when they are well, they may not be their own masters,
for the artifices of the devil are terrible. Hence (if
we consider the matter well), their principal object
is to do their own will, to say all that comes into
their head, and to notice the faults of others, so as
to conceal their own, and to indulge themselves in
everything which gives them pleasure. In a word,
since they have nothing within capable of making
them resist, because their passions are unmortified,
and each one wishes to have her own way, what
will be the consequence, if there be no one to keep
them in subjection? I say again (for I have seen
and have had to manage many persons afflicted with
this evil), that there is no other remedy but to
overcome them by every possible means. If words
are not sufficient, let punishments be used; and if
slight punishments be not sufficient, let greater be
employed: if keeping them a month in prison be of
no avail, let them be kept four, for we cannot do
their souls a greater service. For (as I have said,"
and now I repeat it again, since it is of great importance that we understand it), though they may not
overcome them at once or after several times, yet, as
their madness is not a confirmed disorder, so as to
free them from fault (though it is so sometimes,
yet it is not so always), that must be done which I
have already mentioned; for if not, the soul remains
in perfect danger, unless (as I say) reason be so far
gone, as to force them to do what they do or say,
because they cannot act otherwise. It is a great
mercy of God to those who are afflicted with this
evil, to be subject to a superior; because in this
consists all their good, for avoiding the danger I
have spoken of. And if any one shall read these
words, let her consider, for the love of God, whether
perhaps they may not relate to her salvation.

I know some persons who are very near entirely
losing their judgment, and yet they have souls so
humble, and so full of divine love, that although
they dissolve into tears within themselves, yet they
do nothing but what is commanded them, and bear
their infirmity as others do, though this is a greater
martyrdom; but greater glory is gained thereby, and
their purgatory is gone through here, to escape it
hereafter. But I say it again, that those who will
not do this willingly should be forced to do it by the
superiors; and let them not deceive themselves by a
foolish pity, lest all come to be disturbed by their
extravagancies. But there is another very great evil
which may arise from the same person, besides the
danger I have mentioned, which is this, â€” when the
superiors see her good (as they think), not understanding the effect this evil has upon the interior,
our nature is so miserable, that every one will appear
to them melancholy, that so they may bear with her;
and indeed the devil will also make them believe so,
and thus he will come and make such havoc, as when
known it will be difficult to remedy. This is of such
importance, that in no manner must there be any
negligence; for if she who is melancholy resist the
superior, let her suffer for it as one who is well, and
be not spared in anything; t if she shall say an ill
word to her sister, let the same be done, and so in
all other like cases.

It may seem an act of injustice to correct one who
is sick (if she cannot help it), as it would be to do
so to a person who is well, and has the use of her
reason. It would be the same to bind mad persons,
and to beat them: what then must be done ? Are
they to be allowed to kill every one they meet ? Let
the prioresses believe me, for I have tried and used
(according to my ability) many remedies, and yet
have found no other. And the prioress who through
pity shall allow such to take liberties, will in the end
not be able to bear them; and when she thinks to
remedy the evil, it will have done great harm to
others. And if mad men are bound and punished,
in order that they may not kill others â€” which is a
good and charitable act â€” how much more care ought
to be taken, lest these melancholy persons do harm
to souls with their liberties ? And I truly believe,
that very often (as I have said) this comes from an
unrestrained disposition, from want of humility and
mortification; and that their melancholy does not do
them so much mischief as this disposition: I say, in
some persons, because I have noticed that when there
is a prioress whom they fear, they keep within
bounds, and are able to do so: why then can they
not do so for the love of God ? I am afraid that the
devil, under the pretext of this humour, wishes to
gain many souls; for it is more common now than
formerly, and the reason is, because all â€œ self-will â€
is now called melancholy. On this account it is,
that I have been thinking that, in all the houses of
our Order, this word should never be on our lips,
because it seems to imply liberty, but that it should
be called a â€œ great infirmity â€ (and how great is it !),
and that care should be taken of it, as such. At
certain times, it is also necessary to lessen the infirmity by a little medicine, that so it may be more
easily endured; and she should be attended to in the
infirmary, and made to understand that when she
comes out to join the community, she must be humble and obedient the same as all the rest; and that,
whenever she is not so, her humour will not excuse
her, since this is necessary for the reasons I have
already mentioned, and for others also that I could
dwell upon.

But it is also necessary that the prioress should
conduct herself towards them with great compassion
(without, however, their knowing it), just like a
natural mother; and she should seek out all the
means she can for their cure. Here I seem to contradict myself, for hitherto I have said that they
should be treated with rigour: I now repeat the
same: the prioress must make them understand that
they will never prevail by doing their own will, but
that they are to keep within bounds, and obey; for,
in feeling that they have this liberty their ruin consists. The prioress should not command them to do
that which she sees they might perhaps resist, as
they possess no strength of mind to do violence to
themselves; but she should manage them with dexterity and love in everything necessary, that so (if
possible) they may submit through love, which would
be far better; and sometimes it is well to convince
them that she loves them, and to give them proofs
by words and actions. The prioresses should also
observe, that the best remedy they have is to employ
them often in some duties, that so they may have no
time to be fancying things in their imagination, for
therein lies all their evil; and though sometimes they
may not perform these duties well, they must bear
with their defects, that so they may not have to bear
greater, when the persons are undone. This I know
to be the most sovereign remedy which can be given
them; and they should also take care that they
make not too long prayers; even the ordinary prayers
might be shortened, because such persons have for
the most part a weak imagination, which will do
them much harm; and, besides this, they will desire
things which neither they themselves, nor he that
hears them, will ever be able to understand. Let
care be taken that they eat fish but seldom, and also
they should not fast so continually as the rest do. It
may seem superfluous to give so many directions
concerning this evil, and about no other, though
there are so many and so grievous in this miserable
life, especially in the weakness incidental to women.
But I do this for two reasons: first, because such
individuals think themselves well, since they will
not understand they have this evil; and as they
are forced to keep their bed, though they have no
fever, nor is a doctor sent for, the prioress must be
the doctor; for it is an evil more prejudicial to all
perfection than that which others have who keep
their bed, because their life is in danger. The second
reason is, because in other infirmities persons either
recover or die: it is a wonder if they recover; nor
yet do they die, except that they entirely lose their
judgment, which is a kind of death, inasmuch as
they kill all who have to do with them. They suffer
in themselves, indeed, a cruel death of afflictions,
imaginations, and scruples; and hereby they would
gain great merit (though they call these temptations), if they could understand that these afflictions,
proceed from the same evil; and they would
also find great ease and comfort, if they made little
account of them. I certainly have great compassion
for them, and all those who live with them should
have the same compassion also, by considering how
our Lord might have laid this evil on them likewise,
and by bearing patiently with them (as I have said) .
May our Lord grant that I may have said what is
proper to be done, in regard to so great an infirmity.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Some Directions On Revelations And Visions.

It seems that the mere mention of visions or revelations causes terror in some persons: but I do not
comprehend the reason why they consider it so very
dangerous a thing for God to conduct a soul this
way, nor can I understand whence this astonishment
comes. I do not wish at present to discuss which
are good, or which are bad; nor will I mention the
sign? which I have heard from many learned persons
for discerning these points: but I will speak of that
which he should do who shall see himself in this
condition, because such as these will meet with few
confessors who will not leave them in great fear.
And truly, w hen they tell these confessors how the
devil represents to them many kinds of spiritual
blasphemies, and things dishonest and shameful, the
relation does not trouble the confessors so much as
the account of an angel having spoken to them, or
that our Lord Jesus Christ crucified appeared to
them, at which they seem to be scandalized.

Neither do I desire to treat here, when Revelations
are from God, since this is already known, by the
great benefits conferred on the soul. But I wish to
speak of those representations which the devil makes
to deceive us, by counterfeiting the image of Christ
our Lord, or of His saints. With regard to this
matter, I believe that our Lord will not permit, nor
give him the power to be able to deceive any one by
such like representations, except it be by their own
fault; rather, he himself will be deceived; and thus
we have no reason to be afraid, but let us trust in
God, and pay no regard to these things, except to
praise our Lord the more.

I know a person whom her confessor made very
unhappy on account of such things; and afterwards
(by what was discovered from the great effects and
good works which followed therefrom), it was clear that
they were from God; and she felt it very hard (when
she saw our Lord's image in any vision), to make the
sign of the cross, or to offer an insult to it, for she
was commanded so to do. Treating afterwards on
the subject with Dominico Bannez, a very learned
man, he said, â€œ I was ill advised, and that no one
should do so, for whenever we see the picture of our
Lord, it is proper to reverence it, though the devil
may have painted it, for he is a skilful painter; and
that he even does us good, while he desires to do us
harm, if he should draw a crucifix for us, or any
other image to the life in such a manner, as to leave
it engraven in our hearts." These words suited me
very well, for when we see a very fine picture, though
we know it has been painted by a bad man, yet we
should not therefore undervalue it, nor make no
account of the painter, so as to leave off our devotions. The good or evil does not consist in the
vision, but in him who sees it, and does not thereby
advance in humility. But if there be humility, no
harm can befall us, though it come from the devil;
and if there be not humility, though it should come
from God, it will do us no good: for if that which
ought to humble the soul (seeing she does not deserve such favours), does but make her proud, it will
be like the spider, which converts all it eats into
poison, and not like the bee, which converts everything into honey. I wish to explain myself more
clearly. If our Lord, through His goodness, should
desire to represent Himself to a soul, in order
that she might both know Him and love Him; or if
He should wish to discover some secret to her, or to
grant her some particular favours and graces; but if
she, on the other hand, instead of humbling herself
under them, and thereby acknowledging how little
her baseness deserved them, should immediately
take herself for a saint, and imagine that these
favours were bestowed on her for some service she
had done, then it is evident that the great good
which might have come herefrom is converted, as by
a spider, into evil. Now, let us suppose for the present, that the devil is the author of these apparitions,
in order to excite us to pride; yet if the soul (thinking they are from God) humbles herself and acknowledges she is undeserving of such great favours,
and endeavours to serve Him the more fervently; if
seeing herself rich, she yet considers herself not
deserving to eat the crumbs which fall from the
tables of those persons on whom she has heard God
bestows such favours; if she humble herself, and
begin to force herself to do penance, to give herself
more to prayer, and to be more careful not to offend
this Lord who she supposes grants her this favour,
and if she be resolved to obey with greater perfection; then I am confident the devil will not return,
but will go away confounded and leave no evil in the
soul. When he bids her do some things, or tells
her things to come, she should mention these to a
discreet and learned confessor, not believing or doing
anything but what he shall order her. She should
also communicate with the prioress on the matter,
that she may provide her with such a confessor; and
let her remember this advice, that if she will not obey
what her confessor shall tell her, and will not suffer
herself to be guided by him, it is either some evil
spirit, or else a terrible melancholy. For (supposing
the confessor to be mistaken), yet she will not make
a mistake by following his directions, even though an
angel of the Lord should speak to her, because
our Lord will give her light, or effect the accomplishment of what was revealed to her; and to act thus, is
to be without danger; but to do otherwise, is to
expose ourselves to many dangers and much evil.

Let this truth be remembered, that our natural
weakness is very great, especially in women, and that
it shows itself the most in this kind of prayer; and
thus it is necessary that we should not consider every
little thing which presents itself to us as a vision;
for let them believe me, when it is a vision in reality,
it will make itself sufficiently understood. When
there is a little melancholy, more care is required; for
some have come to me on account of these fancies,
who have quite astonished me, for how is it possible
that such should really think they see things which
they do not see ? Once a confessor came to me, in
great astonishment, who had confessed a person who
told him that our Lady often visited her, and sitting
down on her bed, remained talking with her for
more than an hour, and revealed to her things to
come, as well as many other matters. Among so
many extravagancies, some things proved true, and
then all were considered as such ! I immediately
knew what was the matter, though I did not dare to
say so, for we live in a world in which we should
consider what others may think of us, that so our
words may have effect. And so I told him to wait a
little, and see if these predictions proved true, and to
make inquiry about othereffects, and get information concerning the life of that person; in fine, when
these things came to be examined into, all was discovered to be foolery.

I could say much more on this subject, all of
which would prove my purpose, viz., that no one
should easily give credit to such things, but should
go on for a time, and thoroughly understand the case
before she speak of it, in order not to deceive the
confessor, nor wish to deceive him; because if the
confessor (however learned he may be) has not experience in these matters, he will not be able to
understand them. It is not many years ago, but
only very lately, that a certain man grossly deceived
some very learned and spiritual persons in these very
matters, until he came to treat with an individual
who had experience in the caresses of our Lord, and
who saw clearly that it was folly and illusion, though
then the party was not discovered, but continued
disguised, until after a short time our Lord discovered the person to him, though this same person had before suffered much, because she was not
believed. [The Saint here alludes to herself.]

For these and many other reasons, it is very proper
that each of the sisters should treat frankly with the
prioress on the nature of her prayers; and let the
prioress take great care to examine well the character
and perfection of each sister, in order that she may
inform the confessor, that so he may the better understand her; and let her make choice of one for this
purpose, if the ordinary confessor be not skilled in
such matters. Let her also be very careful, that
things of this nature be not made known to persons
without â€” (however much we may judge them to come
from God, and the favours may evidently be miraculous); neither should they be made known to confessors who have not the prudence to keep silence,
for silence is of more importance than they imagine;
and they should not talk about them with one
another. Let the prioress always listen to them with
prudence, inclining more to praise those who excel in
humility, mortification and obedience, than those
whom God has called by this supernatural way of
prayer, though they may possess all other virtues.
For if it be the Spirit of God, it brings humility with
it, to make us delight in being despised; and it will
do her no harm, and much good to others. For as
they cannot attain that which God bestows on whom
He pleases, they are disconsolate till they obtain
these other virtues, although God gives them also:
still they may be obtained by our own endeavours,
and they are of great value for the religious state.
May His Divine Majesty be pleased to give them to
us; for by spiritual exercises, carefulness, and prayer
on our part. He will not refuse them to any one who,
confiding in His mercy, shall endeavour to obtain
them.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

The Foundation Of St. Josephâ€™S Monastery At Malagon.

How greatly have I wandered from my subject !
But these instructions and directions which I have
given, may be more to the purpose than the account
of the Foundations. Being now at St. Joseph's of
Medina del Campo, it gave me great delight to see how
these sisters followed in the same steps of the nuns of
St. Joseph's at Avila, preserving the same devotion,
unity, and spirit, and how our Lord continued to
provide for His house everything necessary, both for
the Church and the sisters. And this He did by
moving some to enter, whom it seems He himself
had chosen as suitable for the foundation of such a
fabric: and I know well that on good beginnings
depended all the good which was afterwards to come,
because just as persons find the path, they walk
along it afterwards.

There dwelt in Toledo, a lady, who was sister to
the Duke of Medina Caeli, in whose house I lived for
a time, by the command of my superioress (as I
have related more fully in the Foundation of St.
Josephâ€™s of Avila). When this lady heard that I
had obtained license to found monasteries, she began
greatly to importune me to found one in her town,
named Malagon. I did not in any manner wish to
do this, because the place was so small, that we should
be obliged to have an income settled on us, in order
to be able to maintain ourselves; and to such a thing
I was much opposed. But having consulted on the
matter with some prudent and learned men, and also
with my confessor, they fold me that I did wrong;
and that as the holy Council of Trent permitted
incomes, there was no reason for refusing to found a
monastery, wherein our Lord might be served so
well, in my opinion. To these reasons were added
the many importunities of the lady, by which I was
obliged to found the monastery. She gave a sufficient income; for I always preferred, either that the
houses should be altogether poor, or that they should
be supported in such a manner that the nuns would
not be obliged to trouble any one for their support.

All possible diligence and care were used that no
one in particular should possess anything, but that
the "constitutionsâ€ should be observed in every
respect the same as other monasteries founded in
poverty. All the writings having been made out, I
sent for some of the nuns to found the monastery;
and having arrived, we went with the lady to Malagon, where, as there was no house for us to enter, we
lodged for more than eight days in an apartment of
the castle.

On Palm-Sunday in the year 1568, all the people
of the place came out in procession for us, and putting
on our veils and white mantles, we came to the church,
where we heard a sermon, and thence the most
Blessed Sacrament was taken to our monastery â€” this
excited great devotion in the people, and here I remained for some days. Being one day in prayer
(after I had communicated), I heard our Lord say
â€œthat He should be greatly served in that house.â€
I think I remained there about two months only,
for my spirit hurried me to go and found a house in
Valladolid; the cause of which foundation I will
now relate.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Foundation Of The Monastery Of Valladolid.

Four or five months after this monastery of St.
Joseph's had been founded in Malagon, a young
gentleman of quality discoursing with me said, â€œthat
if I would found a house in Valladolid, he would very
willingly give me a house, which had a most handsome and spacious garden attached to it; there was a
large vineyard also inside and he wished to give
me possession immediately: as it was of great value,
I accepted it, though I had not resolved to found a
house there, because the place was about a mile
from the city; but I thought we might easily go to
the city afterwards, when possession had been taken,
and as he made the offer so very willingly, I did not
wish to refuse accepting so good a work, nor to
check his devotion.

About two months after (a little more or less), he
fell so suddenly ill, that he was deprived of the use
of his speech, and was unable therefore to make his
confession, although he gave many proofs of being
sorry for his sins: he died in a short time at a great
distance from where I was. Our Lord told me, â€œ his
salvation had been in great danger, but that He had
mercy on him, on account of the service done to
His Blessed Mother, in giving that house to found a
monastery of her Order; and that he should not be
delivered from purgatory, until the first mass were
said there, and that then he would be freed.â€ The
grievous sufferings of this soul were so continually
present to me, that though I wished to found a
house in Toledo, I would not begin for the present,
but hastened to found (as well as I could) one in
Valladolid.

This work could not be effected so quickly as I desired, because I was obliged to remain in St. Joseph's
of Avila, which was under my charge; and afterwards
I stopped for some time in St. Joseph's of Medina del
Campo. Being one day there in prayer, our Lord
told me â€œto make haste, because that soul suffered
greatly.â€ Upon hearing these words I commenced
my journey immediately, though without any preparation, and entered Valladolid on the Feast of St.
Laurence. When I saw the house, I was exceedingly
afflicted, because I perceived it would be madness
for the nuns to remain there, without very great
expense: and (although there was much room for
recreation, on account of having so beautiful a
garden) it must have been very unhealthy, because
a river ran close by it. Though I was exceedingly
fatigued, yet I wished to go and hear mass in a
monastery of our Order, which stood at the entrance
of the city: but as it was a considerable distance, it
only increased my pain the more: however, I did
not say anything to my companions, in order not to
discourage them, for I had a belief (though a weak
one) that our Lord would provide a remedy for the
accomplishment of what He had told me. Accordingly, I privately employed workmen to commence
building the walls (that so we might have enclosure)
and to do whatever else was necessary. There was
with us the priest I mentioned before, Julian d' Avila,
and one of the two friars who, as I have already mentioned, desired to become â€œ discalced,â€ and to be
made acquainted with our manner of living in these
houses, while Julian d' Avila endeavoured to procure a
license from the ordinary, who had given good
hopes before I came here. This license could not
be obtained so soon until Sunday, but leave was
given for mass to be said in the place we had prepared for a chapel, and accordingly it was said. I
had no thought that then would be fulfilled what I
had heard concerning this soul: for although I was
told it would be at the â€œ first mass,â€ I thought
it would take place at that mass in which the
Blessed Sacrament would be exposed.

When the priest came to where we were to communicate, with the Most Sacred Host in his hands,
as soon as I approached to receive it, the same
young gentleman I have spoken of appeared to me,
with a sinning countenance, by the side of the priest,
looking very glad and cheerful, and with his hands
joined together. He thanked me for what I had
done in freeing him from purgatory, and then
that soul flew straightway to heaven. Indeed, as
soon as I understood that he was in the way of
salvation, I was very glad, because when I heard of
his sudden death, I was in a manner hopeless, fearing lest his soul might be lost, for it seemed to me
that another kind of death was necessary for his
manner of living, since (though he had many good
qualities) he was given to the vanities of the world:
true it is, he told my companions he thought his
death very near. Wonderful indeed it is, how
pleasing to our Lord any service is which is done to
His Mother, and great is His mercy. May he be
praised and blessed by all men, who thus rewards
with eternal life and glory our mean and miserable
actions, and make them great which are of themselves so worthless.

Possession was taken of this monastery, on the
day of our Lady's Assumption, 1568. We remained
there but a short time, for nearly all of us became
very unwell. But a lady of this place, named Dona
Maria de Mendoza, wife to the Governor Cobos,
and mother to the Marquess de Camarasa, a very
pious Christian, and wonderfully charitable (as her
abundant alms well testify), of whom formerly I
received much kindness, â€” for being the sister of the
bishop of Avila, I had occasion to treat with her, and
she then greatly assisted us in the foundation of the
first monastery, and in everything else relating to
our Order; this lady being so very charitable, and
seeing we could not live here without great inconvenience, both on account of the place being so
distant for receiving alms, as well as being unhealthy, told us to give her that house, and she
would buy another for us: and so she did, and what
she gave us was worth a great deal more, besides
giving us up to this time whatever we want, which
she will continue as long as she lives.

On the Feast of St. Blasius we went to this other
house, with a solemn procession, which excited much
devotion in the people, and this still continues: for
our Lord showed great mercies to this house, and has
conducted souls to it whose sanctity will, in its time,
be made manifest to the praise of our Lord, who by
such means desires to magnify His works, and to
show favours to his creatures.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Continues The Relation Of The Means Taken By Dona
Casilda De Padilla To Carry Out Her Holy
Design Of Entering Religion

I. Stephany of the Apostles. â€” 2. Doiia Casilda enters into herself. â€”
3. Attempts to become a nun. â€” 4. Her device to gain an entrance
into the monastery. â€” 5. Casilda's relatives. â€” 6. She is removed
by force from the monastery.â€” 7. The family wish her to enter
another order. â€” 8. Dona Casilda a nun.

It came to pass at this time that we had to give the
habit to a lay sister â€” sister Stephany of the Apostles ' â€”
in the monastery of the Conception, I may speak here-after of her vocation, for, though of a different condition
of life â€” she was but a peasant â€” yet, because of the great
graces which God wrought in her, she deserves, for the
honour of His Majesty, that I should make some record
of her. When she was to take the habit, Doiia Casilda â€”
for that was the name of this beloved of our Lord â€” came
to the ceremony with her grandmother, the mother of
her bridegroom. She conceived a very great liking;
for the monastery, and thought that our Lord was better
served by the nuns, because they were few in number and
poor. Still she had not at this time made up her mind
to give up her bridegroom, and he it was, as I said before,
who held her back the most.

2. She remembered that she was accustomed, before
she was betrothed, to spend a certain time in prayer, for
her mother, in her goodness and saintliness, had thus
brought her up with her brother and sisters. From the
time they were seven years old she used to take them with
her into her oratory at certain hours, and teach them how
to meditate on the Passion of our Lord. She made them
go often to confession, and accordingly she saw her good
desires to bring them up for God so amply rewarded.
She has told me herself that she used to offer up her
children to God, and implore Him to take them out of
the world, for she was no longer deluded as to the scanty
esteem in which it should be held. I think at times how
they will thank their mother when they see themselves in
the fruition of everlasting bliss, and that it was she who
helped them ; and I think too, of her accidental joy in
seeing them, and how different it will be with those
fathers and mothers who have not brought up their
children as children of God â€” and they are more His than
theirs â€” when they all meet together, both the one and
the other, in hell, uttering curses, hopelessly lost.

3. To return to my story. When Dona Casilda saw
that even saying the rosary was no longer a pleasure to
her she feared that she might become even worse and
worse, and thought she saw clearly that by coming to
this house she could make her salvation certain. She
therefore made up her mind altogether, and one morning
she and. her sister came here with their mother, and, as it
happened, all entered the monastery, but without any
suspicion that she was going to do what she did. When she
found herself inside no one would thrust her out. She
cried so earnestly that she might be left, and she used
such words as astonished everybody. Her mother,
though in her heart glad, was afraid of her kindred, and
would not have her remain, lest it should be said that
she was doing this by her persuasion ; the prioress also
was of the same mind, for she looked on her as a child,
and thought that there ought to be a longer trial of her
vocation. This was in the morning ; they had to remain
there till the evening, and to send for her confessor and
for the father master Fray Domingo, a Dominican,
who was mine, of whom I spoke in the beginning, but
I was not there at the time myself. That father saw
at once that this was the work of the Spirit of God,
and gave her great help, while having much to bear
with at the hand of her kindred. So indeed ought all
men to do who pretend to serve God, when they see a soul
called by Him, nor must they be led by the prudence of
men. He promised his help to her for her coming back
another day. She went away this time, but after earnest
importunities, lest they should blame her mother. Her
good desires continued even to grow stronger.

4. Her mother began to speak privately to her kindred,
and the secret was kept from coming to the knowledge of
the bridegroom. They spoke of it all as childishness, and
said she must wait till she became of age, for she was not
yet twelve years old. She replied to this by saying, as
they thought her old enough to be married and left in
the world, how came it that they did not find her old
enough to give herself to God .'' She spoke in such a
way as made it plain it was not she herself who was speaking. The matter could not be kept so secret as to escape
the knowledge of the bridegroom. When she found that
he was aware of it she did not think it well to wait for
him, and on the feast of the Conception, when in the
house of her grandmother, who was also her mother-in-law, but who knew nothing of the matter, she asked her
to let her go for a walk with her governess. The grandmother, to please her gave her consent, and she went out
in a carriage with her servants. To one of them she gave
some money, and asked him to wait for her at the gate
of this monastery with a bundle of faggots, and had herself driven about in such a way that they brought her by
the house. When she had come in front of the gate she
told her servants to ask at the wicket for a goblet of water
without saying tor whom, and descended quickly from
the carriage ; they said the water would be brought to
her, but she would not have it so. The faggots were
already there, and she bade her people tell them in the
monastery to come to the door for them. She stood
close by the faggots, and when the door opened hurried
within, throwing her arms around our Lady, weeping,
and praying the prioress not to send her away.

5. The servants raised a loud cry, and knocked
violently at the door. She went to the grating to speak
to them, told them that nothing should ever make her
come out, and they must go and tell her mother. The
women who were in attendance upon her made pitiful
lamentations, but nothing moved her. Her grandmother,
when she was told of it, would go at once to the monastery.
However, neither she herself, nor an uncle, nor the
bridegroom himself, who, when he came, found means
to converse much with her at the grating, did anything else
but increase her distress when they were with her, and
leave her more determined than before. The bridegroom
said to her, after many piteous complainings, that she
could serve God more by giving alms ; whereupon she
bade him, by way of reply, give alms himself. In answer
to everything else from him she replied that she was
under greater obligations to work out her own salvation,
that she knew herself to be weak, and could not save
herself amid the dangers of the world ; that he had no
reason to complain of her, for she had left him only for
God, and that she did him no wrong thereby. When
she saw that he was not satisfied she arose and left him.
He made no impression whatever upon her ; she was on
the whole disgusted with him ; for the temptations and
annoyances which Satan stirs up become rather a help to
that soul to whom God sends the light of the truth. It
is His Majesty Himself who is fighting on its behalf.
It was so visibly now, for it did not seem as if Casilda
herself were the speaker.

6, When the bridegroom and her kindred saw how
little influence they had to bring her out with her own
consent they took means to drag her out by force, and
so they procured an order from the king, in virtue of
which they could take her out and restore her to her
liberty. During her stay in the monastery, which was
from the feast of the Conception to that of the Innocents,
when they took her away, she never wore the habit, but
she observed all the rules of the house as it she had been
clothed, and that with the greatest joy. On that day
they carried her into the house of a nobleman, tor the
officers of justice came for her. She wept grievously as
they were taking her away, asking them why they
tormented her, and saying that they would gain nothing
by what they were doing. Religious as well as others
now talked earnestly to her : some thought her conduct
childish, and others wished her to retain her rank in the
world. I should become very tedious it I were to
recount all the discussions that took place, and how she
extricated herself out of them all. They were amazed
at the things she said. When they saw that they could
not influence her they took her to her mother's house,
there to be kept for a time. Her mother was weary of
so much trouble, and gave her no help whatever: on the
contrary, she seemed to be against her. It may be that
her mother was only trying her ; at least, she told me so
afterwards, and she is so saintly that whatever she says
is to be believed. However, the child did not so understand her. Her confessor also was extremely opposed
to her, so that she had no help but in God, and in a
young woman in her mother's service who consoled
her.

7. Thus she lived in great weariness and distress till
she was twelve years old : then she found it was
proposed, now that they could not hinder her profession,
to make her enter the monastery in which her sister was,
because it was not so severe. She, when she saw this,
determined to find some means or other for carrying out
her resolution, and accordingly one day, going with her
mother to mass, while the latter went into the confessional in the church, she asked her governess to go and
request one of the fathers to say mass for her. When
she saw her gone, she put her clogs in her sleeves, and
taking up her dress, ran in all haste towards this monastery,
which was a good way off. The governess, not finding
her in the church, rushed after her, and as she was
drawing near to her asked a man to stop her. The man
said afterwards that he found himself unable to stir, and
so let her go. Casilda, having entered by the outer door
of the monastery, shut it, and began to call out ; when
the governess arrived she was already within the
monastery, and the nuns gave her the habit at once.
Thus the good beginning, the work of our Lord in her,
was brought to a good ending.

8. His Majesty began to reward her immediately
with spiritual graces, and she to serve Him with the
greatest joy, in the deepest humility, and detachment
from all things. May He be blessed for ever who thus
made her, who had been once so fond of most rich and
costly garments, take pleasure in the poor robe of serge !
It could not, however, hide her beauty, for our Lord had
given to her natural as well as spiritual graces ; in her
manners and her understanding she was so winning that
she moved everybody to give God thanks for them.
May His Majesty grant that there be many who thus
answer to His call.

[Note: Dona Casllda made her profession as Casilda of the Conception, 13 th
January 1577, at the age of fourteen, in virtue of a dispensation of the
pope, Gregory XIII. With all her wealth, she went poor to the
monastery, for her family gave her no dowry, but paid the monastery
for her food and lodging year by year. In the distribution of the
unsettled property of the family it seems that the brother had so large
a share â€” which went to the house of the Jesuits in Valladolid, where he
was then living â€” that the Carmelites received nothing. There was
some litigation, therefore, between the Jesuits and the Carmelites, but
without any gain to the latter (see letter of S. Teresa of 17th September
1581). Dona Casilda left the monastery in September, 1581, at the
instigation of a confessor, and became a nun in the Franciscan house in
Burgos, of which she was abbess in 16 10, and where she died â€” sorry,
however, that she had ever left the house of Carmel. In the roll of
the professions sent from Valladolid to the chapter held in Alcala, 1581,
is the following entry : â€” ' Sister Casilda of the Conception, has been
a professed nun these four years in this house ; she was born in Valladolid. Her name was Casilda Juliana Padilla, and she made her
profession on the feast of the Baptism of Christ. ]

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

She Gives The Life And Death Of A Nun Named Beatriz
Of The Incarnation.

There came into this monastery to be a nun,
a young lady named Dona Beatriz Ohez, whose
soul made all of us astonished to see what great
virtues our Lord produced in her: for the prioress
and nuns affirm, that all the time she lived among
them they never perceived in her anything which
could be considered as an imperfection, nor ever
noticed any alteration in her looks on account of
things which happened: but she always had a
modest cheerfulness, which discovered the inward
joy and peace her soul possessed, as well as a silence
without heaviness, which, however great, carried with
it nothing of singularity. She was never known to
have spoken a word that could be found fault with:
no obstinency was ever seen in her; nor did she
excuse herself even when the prioress (to try her)
blamed her for what she had not done, as is the
custom in these houses, for the sake of mortification.
She never complained of anything, nor of any of the
sisters, nor by look or by word did she ever displease
any one in whatever duty she was employed. She
never gave occasion for even a suspicion of any imperfection; nor was there any accusation of a fault
made against her in the chapter, although the
monitors are very exact in noticing the smallest
faults. In all things her interior and exterior recollection was most admirable: this arose from the
thought of eternity being continually present to her,
and to the remembrance of the end for which God
has created us. She always had on her lips the
praises of God, and acts of the most profound gratitude: in short, her life was one continual prayer.
In matters of obedience she never committed a fault,
but with promptitude, joy, and perfection she performed everything that was commanded her. She
had a most ardent charity for her neighbour, and to
such a degree, that she often said, â€œ she would allow
herself to be cut in a thousand pieces for any one,
on condition he might not lose his soul, but might
enjoy the sight of her brother Jesus Christ (for she
was accustomed so to call Him in the midst of her
afflictions), which though they were so great, and so
terrible, and accompanied with most violent pains (as
I shall relate further on), yet she endured them as
willingly and contentedly as if they were the greatest
joys and delights: and these delights our Lord must
certainly have given to her soul, otherwise it would
have been impossible for her to have borne her
sufferings with such joy.

It happened once in this city of Valladolid, that
certain criminals were led along to be burnt for
some enormous crimes; and when she understood
that they were not prepared for death so well as they
ought, she was exceedingly afflicted, and immediately with profound sorrow she had recourse to our
Lord, and most earnestly besought him to grant the
salvation of those souls: and that instead of what
they deserved, in order that she might obtain her
request (for I do not remember her words exactly),
she begged of Him to give her, during her whole life,
all the pains and afflictions she was able to bear.
That very night her first fever seized her; and until
the day of her death she was always suffering. The
criminals died in excellent dispositions, by which it
appeared that God heard her prayers.

She also had an imposthume in her bowels, which
caused her so great pain, that she could not have
borne it patiently unless our Lord had given to her
soul what she stood in need of. This imposthume
being inward, all the medicine which she took was of
no use to her, until our Lord was pleased that it
should break and cast forth matter, and then she
was somewhat relieved from this affliction. Having
such a great desire for sufferings, she was not content with a few: but one day, on hearing a sermon on
the â€œ Cross,â€ this desire increased to such a degree,
that when the sermon was over, she went and threw
herself on her bed with floods of tears, and on being
asked what was the matter, she replied, â€œ that they
should ask God to grant her many afflictions, and
then she would be content.â€ She spoke with the
prioress about everything connected with her interior life, and this gave her much consolation.
Under all her sickness she never showed the least
sign of impatience, and did nothing but just as the
infirmarian wished, though it were not to drink a
drop of water. For souls who have the gift of
prayer, to desire afflictions when they already have
them, is very usual; but to rejoice under afflictions
is not the case with many. She was already so
afflicted that her life did not last long; for besides
these excessive pains, she also had an imposthume
in her throat, so that she could not swallow. While
some of the sisters were standing by her, she said to
the prioress (as being the person whose duty it was
to console and animate her to bear patiently her
sufferings) â€œthat she felt no pain, and that she
would not change her place for that of any of the
sisters, however well in health they might be.â€ She
had so present to her mind that Lord for whose love
she suffered, that, as much as she possibly could, she
turned aside, to prevent any one from knowing what
she suffered; and thus she complained very little,
except when her pains were very grievous. She
imagined there was no creature on earth so wicked
as she was, and in everything her humility was
great, as far as one could observe. In speaking of
the virtues of others, she rejoiced exceedingly. In
mortifications she was excessive, and with a certain
kind of artifice she turned away from whatever
could afford recreation to her, so that unless a
person observed her, he did not perceive the artifice.
She seemed not to live nor to converse with creatures;
and so much did she undervalue everything, that
whatever way affairs went, she endured them so
patiently that the sisters always saw her in the same
calm state. When once a sister said to her, that
she appeared to resemble those persons who stand
much upon their honour, and who would rather die
of hunger than wish others to know what they
suffered, for they could not believe but that she had
feelings in some things, though very little was perceived, she replied, â€œWhatever we do, however
small, for the love of God, the price thereof is inestimable. We should not, sisters, so much as turn
our eyes, except for this purpose, to please Him.â€
All her pains and duties tended to this end, so that
she never lost the merit of them. She never
meddled in anything which did not belong to her,
and therefore she knew no oneâ€™s defects but her own.
She suffered so much when any good was spoken of
her, that the sisters were careful not to say anything
in her presence, in order not to give her pain.
She never endeavoured to procure any consolation
for herself, either by going into the garden, or in
any other created thing, for (as she said), â€œ It would
be rudeness to seek any relief from those pains which
our Lord gave her,â€ and hence she never asked for
anything, but contented herself with what was given
her. She said likewise, â€œ that it would rather be a
torment to her, to take delight in anything which
was not God.â€ The wonder is, that when I inquired
of those living in the house, there were none who
perceived in her anything which did not imply, that
her soul had arrived at the highest perfection.

The time being now come when our Lord wished
to take her out of this life, her pains increased, and
these were joined with so many other afflictions,
that the sisters (in order to praise our Lord in seeing the patience with which she endured them) came
many times to visit her: the chaplain, especially,
had a great desire to be present at her death, for he
was confessor in this monastery, and was a great
servant of God, and being her confessor, he considered her a saint. God was pleased his desire
should be accomplished, for although she had perfect possession of her senses, and had already received extreme unction, yet the nuns called him, in
order that, if he should be wanted that night, he
might reconcile her, and help her to die well. A
little before nine oâ€™clock, the chaplain and all the
sisters standing by, her pains left her a quarter of an
hour before she died; and she lifted up her eyes
with very great calmness, a certain joyfulness appearing on her .countenance, which seemed to be as it
were a kind of splendour; and she remained as one
gazing upon an object which gave her abundant joy,
for then she smiled twice. All who were present,
and the priest himself, experienced such great
spiritual delight and joy that they could say nothing
more, than that they thought themselves to be in
heaven. And with this cheerfulness I speak of, and
with her eyes fixed on heaven, she expired, her countenance appearing like that of angelsâ€™; for so we
may believe (according to our faith, and her life,)
that our Lord took her to His eternal rest in recompense for the desire she had to suffer for Him. The
chaplain affirms (and he has said the same to other
persons) that at the time when her body was interred,
he felt a very strong and most delicious perfume. The
sacristan likewise affirms that of all the tapers which
were lighted in honour of her funeral, not one was
wasted or diminished. All this may be believed to
have happened through the mercy of God. When
I spoke of these things with a confessor of hers
belonging to the Society of Jesus, who had been her
confessor for several years in the guidance of her
soul, he said, â€œ it was no strange thing, and that he
did not wonder at it, because he knew our Lord had
frequent communications with her.â€ May it please
His Divine Majesty, my sisters, that we may know
how to take advantage of such good company as hers
was, and of many others whom our Lord has given
us in these houses; I may afterwards say something
of them, that so those may strive to imitate them, who
advance with some trepidity, and that we may all
praise our Lord, who thus makes His greatness to
shine in a few weak women.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

On The Foundation Of The First House Of Discalceate Friars.

Before I went to this Foundation of Valladolid, I
had already agreed with Father Antonio de Jesus
(who was then prior of St. Anneâ€™s Monastery at
Medina, and a Carmelite), and also with Father John
de la Cruz, as I have already said, that they should
he the first to be admitted, if any monastery were
erected of the First Rule of Discalceate Friars. But
as I had no means of providing a house, I ceased not
to recommend the matter to Almighty God, because
(as I have said) I was already satisfied with these
two fathers; for Father Antonio de Jesus had been
tried by our Lord in many afflictions, all of which
he bore with great patience, and it is now a year
since I first spoke to him on the subject; and with
regard to Father John de la Cruz, no proof was
necessary, because (although he lived amongst the
Fathers Calceate), yet he always led a holy and
perfect life.

Our Lord was pleased, having granted me the
principal point, viz., the friars to commence with, to
grant the rest also. A young gentleman of Avila,
named Don Raphael, with whom I had never before
spoken, came to hear (I know not how, for I do not
remember) that I wished to found a monastery of
Discalceate Friars, and therefore he came and offered
to give me a house which he possessed in a little
village (called Durvelo):f it had few houses, not
above twenty, I think, if I remember rightly; this
house was inhabited by a farmer, who collected his
rents there for him. Though I judged what kind of
place it was, I praised our Lord, and accepting the
offer, thanked the gentleman much. He told me it
was on the way to Medina del Campo, and that I
must pass by it to go to the Foundation of Valladolid, and that being the direct way, I might then see
the place. I answered I would do this, and I did
so; for I went from Avila in the month of June, with
only one companion, and with Father Julian d' Avila,
who was the priest I spoke of that assisted me in
these journeys: he was chaplain to St. Joseph's of
Avila. Though we set off at daybreak, yet as we
knew not the road, we missed our way; and as the
place was not much known, no one could direct us;
and thus we walked all that day in great trouble, for
the sun was very hot, and when we thought we were
near the place, we had as far again to travel. I shall
always remember the fatigue and wandering of that
day. We arrived there a little before night; and
when we entered the house, it was in such a state, that
we dare not remain there during the night, because the
place was so exceedingly dirty, and there were also
many reapers about. It had a tolerable hall, two
chambers with a garret, and a little kitchen: this
building was all that composed our convent. I
thought that the hall might be converted into a
chapel, the garret into a choir, which suited very
well, and the chambers into a dormitory. My companion, though much better than myself, and a
greater lover of penance, could not endure the idea of
establishing a convent there, and therefore she said
to me: â€” â€œ Certainly, Mother, no soul (however good
she might be) could endure such a place. Speak no
more about it."

Father Julian, who was with me, though of the
same opinion as my companion, when I told him my
intentions, did not oppose me. We went and passed
that night in the church; but on account of our
great fatigue, we stood more in need of sleeping than
watching. Having arrived at Medina, I immediately
spoke with Father Antonio, and told him what had
passed, and that if he had courage to remain there
some time, he might be sure God would soon provide
a remedy for him. I seem to have then beheld
present before me what our Lord has since done, and
to have considered as certain (in a way of speaking)
what I now see, yea â€” and a great deal more than I
have seen; for at the time I am now writing, there
are ten monasteries of Discalceate Friars. I told
him also he might be assured that neither the former,
nor the present provincial would give us their license
(for, as I mentioned in the beginning, their consent
was necessary), if they saw us in a very fine house:
besides, that we had no remedy, and that living in
such a small house and village, no notice would be
taken of us. Our Lord had given him greater
courage than to me, for he said, â€œ He would dwell
not only there, but even in a pig-stie.â€ Father de
la Cruz was of the same mind also. And now we
wanted to obtain the consent of the two fathers
whom I have mentioned, because our Father-General
had granted the license on this condition. I hoped
in our Lord to be able to obtain it, and therefore I
spoke to Father Antonio to take care of collecting all
he could for the house, and departed with Father
John de la Cruz for the Foundation of Valladolid,
already described. As we were obliged to spend
some days with the workmen, till the house was
enclosed, I took the opportunity of informing Father
John de la Cruz of our whole manner of living, in
order that he might understand every particular,
both as regards our mortifications, the nature of our
conversation and recreations, which we have all
united together; and all these are used with such
moderation, as only to serve in discovering the faults
of the sisters, and to enable' them to take a little
relaxation, the better to support the rigour of their
rules: lie was so good, that at least I might have
learnt much more from him than he from me; but
this was not my design, but only to show him the
manner in which the sisters proceeded. It pleased
God, that the provincial of our Order, named Fra
Alonzo Gonzales (from whom I was to obtain a
license), should come here at this time: he was an
old man, very good, and without malice. In asking
the license, I gave so many reasons for granting it,
and insisted so much on the account he would have
to render to God, if he in any way hindered so good
a work, that His Divine Majesty disposing him
(because He wished to have the request granted), he
was greatly mortified. The Lady Dona Maria de
Mendoza, and the bishop of Avila her brother, coming
there, who has ever favoured and protected us, soon
obtained his consent, as well as that of Father Angel
de Salazar, from whom I feared all the difficulty, and
who was the former provincial. But just at this
time, there happened a certain event, which required
the favour of the Lady Dona Maria de Mendoza, and
this greatly assisted (I believe) our cause; and
besides, had not this occasion helped us, our Lord
would have put it into his heart, as He did into the
Father-General's, who was far from consenting
thereto. O ! my God, how many things have I seen
in this business which seemed to be impossible; but
how easy has it been for your Divine Majesty to
smoothen all difficulties ! And what a confusion is
it to me (having seen what I have seen), to be no
better than I am! And now while I am writing
these lines, I am astonished, and I desire our Lord
would make known to all men, that in these Foundations we poor creatures have done almost nothing;
but our Lord has disposed everything by means of
beginnings so humble, that only His Divine Majesty
was able to raise them up to what they are now.
May He be for ever blessed

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

She Continues The History Of The Foundation Of The First
House Of Discalceate Carmelites. She Tells Something
Concerning The Life They Lead, Etc.

As soon as I obtained the consent of these two
fathers, it now seemed to me that nothing more was
wanting. We arranged that Father John de la Cruz
should go to the house, and prepare it in such a way
that he might be able to enter it as he desired, for I
made all haste to have a beginning, because I was
greatly afraid some obstacle might come in the way,
and so the business was done. Father Antonio had
already collected a few things that were necessary, and
we helped as well as we could, which was but little.
He came to speak to me at Valladolid, and was full of
joy, telling me what he had provided, which was but
scanty, and how he had got together fine clocks,
which made me laugh heartily. He told me that as
he wished to keep the exact hours, he did not wish
to go unprovided: I think they had, as yet, no place
to sleep in. There was little delay in fitting up the
house, for though they wished to make several alterations, they had no money. After this, Father Antonio
renounced his priorship with great willingness, and
took the vows of the First Rule; and though I told
him to try it at first, yet he would not, but went to
his little house with the greatest content in the
world: Father John was already there.

Father Antonio told me that when he saw the
little place, it gave him very great interior joy: and
he seemed to have given up the world altogether,
and entirely to have abandoned it, on entering that
solitude. Neither to one or the other did the house
appear inconvenient, but rather they imagined that
they lived amidst great delights. O my God ! how
little do such buildings and exterior delights contribute to interior joy ! For the love of God, I beseech
you, my sisters, and you, my fathers, that you always
show yourselves very moderate with respect to large
and sumptuous houses. Let us place before us our
true founders (I mean, those holy fathers from whom
we have descended); for we know that, by the path
of poverty and humility, they arrived at the enjoyment of God. I have indeed noticed that there is
more of the Spirit, and even more interior joy, when
our body suffers some inconveniences, than when we
live in large houses, however grand they may be.
What good are they to us ? It is only a cell that we
continually use; and, however large and well-built it
may be, what is it to us ? We are not to look at the
walls, but to consider that this house will not last for
ever, but only for the short time of our life, however
long that may be. Everything will become sweet to
us, when we consider that the less we have here, the
more we shall enjoy hereafter in that eternity, where
there are mansions proportionable to the love with
which we shall have imitated the life of our good
Jesus. If we say that these are beginnings, for the
renewal of the rules of the Virgin, His Mother, and
our lady and patroness, let us not offer either to her,
or to our holy fathers and predecessors, so great an
insult as not to conform ourselves to them. And
although, on account of our weakness, we cannot do
this in every respect, yet in things which in no ways
tend to sustain life, we should proceed with, great
care, since all is but a small savoury affliction, as
these two fathers found it; and by resolving within
ourselves to suffer, the difficulty is over, for all the
pain is only felt a little in the beginning.

On the first or second Sunday of Advent (I do not
remember which), in the year 1568, the first mass
was said in that little portal of Bethlehem, for no
better did it appear to me. The following Lent, as
I was going to the Foundation of Toledo, I passed by
it, and came there one morning while Father Antonio
de Jesus was sweeping the door of the Church, with
a cheerful countenance, such as he always has. I
said to him: â€œ What is this, father? what has become of your dignity ?" He replied in these words
(intimating the great joy he felt): â€œ I consider that
time badly spent, when I enjoyed honour." When
I went into the church, I was astonished to see the
spirit our Lord had produced there; and not only I
myself, but two merchants also, friends of mine, who
had come with me from Medina, did nothing but
weep, so many crosses and skulls were there. Never
shall I forget one little wooden cross, which was
placed over the holy water stoup, to which was fastened a paper crucifix, and which produced more
devotion than if it had been a crucifix very elaborately carved. The garret formed the choir, which
was high towards the middle, so that they could
recite the â€œ Hours; 33 but to enter it they were
obliged to stoop f very low, in order to hear mass.
They made two little hermitages on each side of the
church (where they could not remain, except either
by sitting or reclining), and filled the inside with
hay, because the place was very cold: their heads
almost touched the roof. Towards the altar were two
little windows, and two stones served for pillows:
here also there were crosses and skulls. I understood that after matins were over, they returned (not
to sleep), but continued in prayer, which they had in
a high degree; and it happened many times that
when they went to Prime, their habits were covered
with snow, and they perceived it not. They recited
the â€œ Hours" with another father of the relaxed
rule, who came to live with them, though he did
not change his habit, being of a weak constitution:
another religious young man lived with them also,
not in holy orders. They went about preaching
in many neighbouring places, where the people were
without any learning, so that, in this respect, I was
glad a house had been erected there, for I was told
there was no monastery near, where they could get
instructions, etc., which was a great pity. In a short
time they gained so great a reputation, that when I
heard of it, it gave me the greatest consolation. They
went to preach six or eight miles off, barefoot (for
they wore no sandals then, though afterwards they
were commanded to wear them), in the midst of the
snow and cold; and when they had finished preaching and confessing, they returned very late to their
meal, but with such joy that all their sufferings
seemed but little to them. As for food, they had
sufficient, for the people in all the neighbouring
villages provided them with more than they wanted;
and some neighbouring gentlemen, who came to
their church to confession, offered them better houses
and better situations. Among them was one Don
Luis, lord of five villas:f this gentleman had built
a church for an image of our Lady, worthy indeed of
veneration: his father had sent it from Flanders to
his grandmother, or mother (I forget which), in the
care of a merchant, who became so fond of it, that
he kept it by him for many years; but afterwards,
on his death-bed, he commanded it to be restored to
the rightful owner. It is a large picture, and in my
whole life I have never seen a better; and others say
the same.

Father Antonio de Jesus, having gone there at the
gentleman's request, was so taken with the picture
when he saw it (and very justly so), that he consented to found a monastery there: the place is
called Mancera, though it had no well-water, nor
was there any likelihood of any being obtained there.
This gentleman built a small house for them (suitable to their profession), and gave them furniture and
many other things. I will not omit mentioning how
our Lord gave them water, for it was considered
miraculous. Father Antonio being one day, after
supper, in the cloister with his Religious (he was
then prior), while they were talking of their great
want of water, the prior rose up, and taking a staff
which he was accustomed to carry in his hand, he
made with it in a certain part the sign of the cross
(as far as I remember, for I am not certain whether
he made the sign of the cross); however, he marked
out the place with the staff, and said: â€œ Now, dig
here.â€ They did so, and had not gone very deep,
before such a copious stream came forth, that, when
they wish to clean the well, it is difficult to drain it;
and the water is very good to drink, so that they use
it for almost everything, and (as I have said) it never
fails. Afterwards they enclosed a garden, and tried
to obtain water there, by using what is called a
noria;[An engine, or wheel, for drawing water out of a well.] yet hitherto, though they went to great
expense, they have found but very little.

When I saw this little house, which a short time
before could not be inhabited, endued with such a
spirit, that wherever I turned, I found something to
edify me; and when I understood their manner of
living, their mortification and prayer, and the good
example they gave (for a gentleman and his wife
whom I knew, and who lived near them, came to see
me, and related to me their sanctity, and the great
good they did among the people), I could not satisfy
myself in giving thanks to our Lord with an excessive interior joy, for I thought I already saw a
foundation laid for the great increase of our Order,
and the service of our Lord. May His Divine
Majesty please to carry it on, as He does now, for
then my thoughts will come true. The merchants
who came along with me told me, that they would
not for all the world have neglected going there.
What power is there in virtue ! for they were more
pleased with that poverty than with all the riches
they possessed, and their mind was thereby much
consoled.

After those fathers and myself had spoken about
certain matters, I, as a weak and sinful creature,
earnestly requested them not to exercise themselves
in mortifications with such rigour, for they were
very great; and since it had cost me so much in
desiring and praying our Lord to give me some persons to commence this work, which already had begun
so well, I was afraid the devil would seek out some
means to bring them to their grave, before that was
effected which I had hoped for; and being so imperfect, and having such little faith, I did not consider
it was the work of God, and that His Divine Majesty
would carry it on. But having those virtues which
I wanted, they took little notice of my words for
omitting their exercises. And so I departed with
most abundant consolation, though I did not give to
God all the praises He deserved for so great a favour.
May our Lord, in His goodness, grant that I may
be worthy to serve Him in something corresponding
with all that I owe Him; Amen: for I clearly
understood that this was a much greater favour than
that which He bestowed on me in founding the
houses of nuns.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

On The Foundation Of The Monastery Of The Glorious
St. Joseph In The City Of Toledo, In The Year 1569.

There lived in the city of Toledo a merchant, an
eminent man and a servant of God: he would never
marry, but led a good life, as every Catholic should
do, for he was a man of great virtue and honesty.
He had collected his money by a lawful business,
with the intention of doing by it some act of charity
that would be most pleasing to our Lord: his name
was Martin Ramirez. He fell dangerously ill; and
a father of the Society of Jesus named Paul Hernandez (to whom I had confessed when in this city,
treating about the Foundation of Malagon), hearing
of this circumstance, and greatly desiring that a
monastery of nuns might be founded in Toledo, went
to visit him, and in the course of conversation told
him â€œwhat a good opportunity presented itself of
doing so great a service to our Lord; and how he
might place in the monastery what chaplains and
chapelries he pleased, and that there likewise certain
festivals might be kept, and all the rest done which
he intended to have established in a certain parish of
this city.â€ The gentleman was so very ill that he
was sensible he had no time to arrange all these
matters; wherefore he left everything in the hands
of his brother, Alonzo Alvarez Ramirez, a very
discreet person, who feared God, very good and
charitable, and endowed with solid judgment. This
I may say of him with very great truth, as having
seen it myself from frequently conversing with
him.

When Martin Ramirez died, I was then engaged
in the Foundation of Valladolid; and there Father
Paul Hernandez and Alonso Alvarez wrote to me,
giving me an account of all that passed, and begging
me to set out for Toledo, if I wished to accept this
Foundation. I departed accordingly a short time
after the house was founded in Valladolid, and I
arrived at Toledo on the Eve of the Nativity of our
Lord: I went to the house of the Lady Doha Louisa
Cerda, where I had been before about the Foundation of Malagon. I was received with great kindness,
for this lady had much regard for me. I took along
with me from St. Josephâ€™s of Avila two companions,
who were great servants of God. An apartment was
immediately provided for us (as is customary), and
here we enjoyed the same quiet and recollection as if
we were in a monastery. I immediately began to
treat on the business with Alonso Alvarez: but a son-in-law of his named Diego Hortiz (although a very
good man, and a Divine), was more given to his own
opinion than Alonso, and would not therefore so
soon listen to reason; they began to demand of me
many conditions, which I did not think proper to
grant.

We went on, however, with our agreement, looking
out at the same time for a house to let, in order that
possession might be taken; but we could not meet
with one suitable (though many inquiries had been
made); neither could I prevail on the Governor to
grant me a license (for at this time there was no archbishop), though on one side the lady at whose house
I was stopping, and a gentleman, canon of the church,
named Don Pedro Manrique, son of the Governor of
Castile, had done all they could to induce him. This
canon was a great servant of God, and is so still, for
he is yet alive; and although he had very indifferent
health, a few years after this house was founded, he
entered into the Society of Jesus, where he now is.

He was highly esteemed in this city on account of
his solid understanding and great authority. But
with all their exertions, I could not obtain the
license, for when the Governor was a little more
mild and inclined, the members of the Council were
opposed; on the other hand, we could not agree with
Alonso Alvarez, on account of his son-in-law, upon
whom he relied much in this business, so that at last
we broke off the agreement altogether. I now knew
not what to do, for I came to Toledo for no other
object but the Foundation; and I saw that to go
away without founding the house would be a great
reproach; yet I was more concerned at having no
license than at all the rest, for I hoped that possession being once taken, our Lord would provide
everything else, as He has done in other places. I
resolved, therefore, to speak with the Governor myself,
and hastening to a church which stood near his
house, I sent a message to entreat him he would
allow me to speak with him: it was now more than
two months since the business had been going on,
and every day it became worse. When I appeared
before him, I said: â€” â€œ It was a hard case that poor
women should have come here who desired to live in
strict rigour and perfection and enclosure; and that
those who endured none of these things, but lived in
delights, should wish to prevent works redounding so
much to the Glory of God.â€ By these and many
other reasons, which I gave him with great freedom
and resolution, as our Lord enabled me, I moved
his heart in such a manner that before I left him
he granted me the license. Hereupon I was greatly
pleased, thinking myself now to possess all, when I
had nothing, for I had in my possession but three or
four ducats, f with which I bought two pictures,
painted on linen (because I had not one to place on
the altar), two straw beds, and a coverlet. I knew
of no house, and had nothing more to do with Alonso
Alvarez. A merchant of this city, a friend of mine,
who had always led a single life, and applied himself
to the performance of good works, especially to the
relief of prisoners, told me not to be afflicted, for
that he would find me a house: his name was Alonso
dâ€™ Avila: he fell sick, however, and could not therefore
keep his promise. A few days before, there came to
Toledo a Franciscan friar, called Brother Martin de
la Cruz, a man of eminent sanctity. He stopped a
few days, and when he departed, he sent to me a
young man, a penitent of his, whose name was
Andrada: he was very poor, and his confessor told
him to do whatever I should order him. Being one
day in the church at mass, he came to speak with
me, telling me what that good father had commanded him, assuring me that he would do all he
could to serve me, though this would be only with
his person. I thanked him, and laughed heartily,
and so also did my companions, on seeing what a
help that holy man had sent us, for his garb was not
fit for conversing with Discalceate nuns.

When I now saw myself with a license, but with
no one to help me, I knew not what to do, nor
whom to apply to: but I remembered the young man
whom Father Martin de la Cruz had sent to me, and
I mentioned him to my companions, but they
laughed much at me, advising me not to attempt
such a thing, for that he would be sure to discover
the business. I would not, however, listen to them,
for (as he was sent by that servant of God), I was
was confident he would prove in some way useful,
and that he had not been sent without a mystery. I
sent for him accordingly, and gave him an account
of what had passed, strictly commanding him to
observe all possible secrecy; and so I desired him to
look for a house, and for the hire of it I would give
him security: the money would be provided by
Alonso d' Avila, who, as I have said, fell ill. The
young man thought it would be very easy to find a
house, and assured me he would succeed. So the
next morning, being at mass in a church of the
Fathers of the Society of Jesus, he came to speak
with me, and told me that now he had found a
house, and had brought the keys with him, for it
was so very near, that we might go and see it: we
did so, and found it so convenient that we dwelt in
it almost a year. Very often, when I think of this
Foundation, I am astonished at the ways of God; for
during three months (or at least more than two, I
do not remember which), certain rich persons went
all round Toledo, seeking for a house, and could not
find one: and yet, when this poor young man went,
our Lord was pleased he should immediately find
one; and when a monastery might have been erected
without any trouble, had I agreed with Alonso
Alvarez. I was not to do it, but quite the contrary,
in order that the foundation might be in poverty and
labour.

9. Then, as we were satisfied with the house, I ordered
possession to be taken at once before anything could be
done to it, in order that there might be no hindrance.
Soon after Andrada came to tell me that the house would
be left empty that very day, and that we might send in
our furniture. I told him there was little to send, for we
had nothing but two straw mattresses and a blanket. He
must have been surprised. My companions were vexed
at my saying it, and asked me how I could do it, for if he
saw we were so poor he would not help us. I did not
think of that, and he did not think of it either, for He
who had driven him that good-will would continue it to
him till he finished His work; and so it was, for he set
about arranging; the house and bringing in workmen so
earnestly that I do not think we were more in earnest
than he. We borrowed what is necessary for saying
mass, and at nightfall, with a workman, went to take
possession, having with us a little bell, one of those rung
at the elevation, for we had no other, and spent the
whole of that night in great fear, cleaning the house. The
only room for a church was one the entrance into which
was from another house adjoining, inhabited by some
women, and which also the mistress thereof had let to us
know. And now, when we had everything ready and the
dawn at hand â€” we had not ventured to say anything to
the women, lest they should make our coming known â€”
we began to open the door, which was to be in the wall
that divided the two houses, and which opened into a
very small courtyard. The women heard the noise, and
rose in terror from their beds; we had a great deal of
trouble in soothing them, and the time was come for
saying mass." Though they were violent they did us no
harm, and when they saw what it was for our Lord made
them quiet.

11. I saw afterwards how hastily we had acted, for
then, in the exaltation which comes from God, we saw
no difficulties. When the owner of the house heard
that it had been made into a church there was trouble,
for she was the wife of one whose estate was entailed,
and great was the noise she made. When she saw that
we would give a good price for it if it suited us, our
Lord was pleased she should be quiet. Again, when the
members of the council heard that the monastery was
founded â€” they never would have given their consent â€”
they were very angry, and went to the house of a
dignitary of the Church, to whom I had made known our
plans as a secret, and told him what they were threatening
to do. As for the administrator, he had occasion to take
a journey after he had granted the permission, and was
not in the city; so they went with their story to the
dignitary I am speaking of, astonished at such audacity
that a poor woman should found a monastery against
their will. He made answer that he knew nothing
about it, and pacified them as well as he could, telling
them that the thing had been done in other places, and
that it could not have happened without sufficient
reasons.

12. Some days later â€” I do not know how many â€” they
sent us an order forbidding the celebration of mass till we
produced the licence under which we were acting. I
answered most gently, and said I should do as they
commanded me, though I was not bound to obey them
in the matter; and begged Don Pedro Manrique, the
nobleman I spoke of before, to go and talk to them, and
show them our faculties. He brought them over,
especially as the thing was done; for if it had not been
so we should have had troubles.'

13. We were for some days with no other furniture
but the two straw mattresses and the blanket, and on that
first day we had not even a withered leaf to fry a sardine
with, when somebody, I know not who he was, moved by
our Lord, laid a faggot in the church wherewith we helped
ourselves. At night it was cold, and we felt it, though
we covered ourselves with the blankets and our cloaks of
serge which we wear over all; these were serviceable to
us. It will be thought impossible that we, who were
staying in the house of a lady " whose affection for me
was so great, should have come in here in such great
poverty. I do not know how it was, except that it was
the will of God we should learn by experience the blessing of this virtue. I did not ask her for anything, for I
hate to give trouble, and she perhaps never thought of it,
for I owe her more than she could give us.

14. To us it was a great blessing, for the inward
comfort and joy we then felt was such as to make me otten
ponder on the treasures which our Lord has laid up in
virtues. The poverty we were in seemed to me as the
source of a sweet contemplation, but it did not last long,
for Alonso Alvarez himself and others provided for us
soon, and that in greater abundance than we desired.
Certain it is that my sadness thereupon became so great
that I could not but regard myself as one once possessed
of many gold trinkets of which I was robbed and left in
poverty; I was in pain when my poverty was ended, and
so were my sisters, and when I saw them sorrowing I
asked them what the matter was, and they answered,
' What is the matter, mother ? We do not seem to be
poor any longer.'

15. From that time forth the desire of being very poor
grew within me, and I felt a strength to enable me to hold
in contempt the goods of this world, seeing that in the
absence of them grows interior good, which, of a truth,
brings with it fulness and rest. During those days in which
I had to treat of the foundation with Alonso Alvarez,
many were the people who thought I was doing wrong,
and told me so, for they looked on his family as neither
great nor noble, though very good in its own place, as I
said before, saying that I should not want help in so important a city as Toledo. I did not pay much attention
to this, tor, thanks be to God, I have always prized goodness more than descent; but so much was said to the
governor on the subject that he gave his licence on condition that I made the foundation as in other places.

16. I knew not what to do, for the monastery was
founded, and they ' came again to treat about it. However, as the foundation was now made I compromised the
matter by giving them the chancel, but in the monastery
itself they were to have no rights, as it is at present. A
great personage wished to have the chancel, and many
were the opinions, I not knowing what to do. It pleased
our Lord to give me light in the matter, and so He said
to me at once, ' How useless will birth and dignities be
before the judgment-seat of God ! ' And He gave me a
severe rebuke because I had listened to those who spoke
in this way, for these were not matters which those who
despised the world should think of.'

17. These and many other considerations made me
ashamed of myself; I resolved to conclude the arrangements proposed by giving them the chancel, and I have
never repented of it, for we saw clearly how scant were
our means for buying a house, and by their help we bought
that in which we are now living, and which is one of the
good houses of Toledo, and cost 12,000 ducats: and, as
so many masses are said in it and festivals kept, it is a
very great joy to the nuns, and brings much joy to the
people. It I had respected the vain opinions of the world,
it would have been impossible, so tar as I can see, to find
so many advantages, and it would have been a wrong
done to him who did us the charity with so much goodwill.

[Note: The house bought with the money of Alonso Ramirez was in the
ward of S. Nicholas, opposite the Mint, and was taken possession of in
1570: but, as the charities founded by the family proved a trouble and
annoyance to the nuns, the monastery was removed to the house of Alonso
Franco, near the Misericordia, in 1594: that proved too small for the
nuns, and the prioress Beatriz of Jesus, niece of S. Teresa, bought a house
in the parish of S. Leocadia, near the Cambron gate, the palace of
the Dukes of Medina Celi, where S. Teresa had been the guest of
Dona Luisa de la Cerda, and transferred thither the community in
1607, where it still remains. The foundations of the Ramirez family
continued in their original site, and were known as the oratory of
S. Joseph. ]

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Of Certain Things That Took Place In This Convent Of S.
Joseph Of Toledo, To The Honour And Glory Of God

I. â€” Ann of the Mother of God. â€” 2. Resigns her possessions before being
professed. â€” 3. Obedience of the nuns. â€” 4. Austerities. â€” 5. Death
of a nun. â€” 6. Peaceful death of Carmelites. â€” 7. Story of a gambler.
â€” 8. Penitent in the hour of death.

I HAVE thought it well to say something of the way in
which certain nuns laboured in the service of our Lord,
in order that they who shall come after them may endeavour to imitate these good beginnings. Before the house
was bought there came in a nun, Anne of the Mother of
God,' forty years of age, who had spent her whole life in
the service of God; and, though in her state and household there was no want of comfort, for she lived alone
and had property, she chose rather the poverty and
obedience in the order, and accordingly came to speak
to me. Her health was not strong, but when I saw
a soul so god and so determined I looked on
it as a good beginning for the foundation, and so I
admitted her. It pleased God to give her much better
health in her life of austerity and obedience than she
had in the midst of her comforts, and while she had her
liberty.

[Note: Ana de la Palma was a wealthy widow, and had been so for twenty
years, living a most holy life in her own house. She was forty years old
when she entered the order, and made her profession in Toledo, 15th
November 1570, and died in
1610. ]

2. What excited my devotion, and why I speak of her
here is this: before she made her profession she resigned
all her possessions â€” she was very rich â€” and gave them
as an alms to this house. I was distressed about this,
and refused my consent, telling her that perhaps she might
repent of it herself, or we might not admit her to her
profession, and that it was a dangerous thing to do,
though if it should so happen we should not send her
away without giving back what she had given to us; but
I wished to show her the worst side of the case for two
reasons; firstly, that there might be no occasion for
temptation; and secondly, to try her spirit the more.
Her answer was, that if it should so happen she would
beg her bread for the love of God, and I could get no
other answer from her. She lived in the greatest happiness, and her health was much better.

3. So mortified and obedient were the nuns that while
I was there I had to watch what the prioress was saying,
for the sisters did what she told them, though she might
be speaking without reflection. One day, when looking
at a pond in the garden, the prioress said to them, ' What
will happen if I tell her ' â€” meaning a sister who was
standing close by â€” 'to throw herself in ?' She had no
sooner spoken thus than the sister was in the water, and
so much wetted that it was necessary to change her habit.
On another occasion â€” I was present myself â€” the nuns
were going to confession, and the one who was waiting
for the other to com5 out of the confessional went up to
the prioress- and spoke to her; the prioress said, ' Why,
what is this ? Was that a good way to recollect herself.'

Let her put her head in the well, and there think of her
sins.' The sister understood that she was to throw herself into the well, and made such haste to do so that, if
they had not quickly gone after her, she would have
thrown herself in, thinking she was doing the greatest
service in the world to God.

4. I could tell other things of the same kind, showing
their great mortification, so much so that it became necessary
tor learned men to explain to them wherein obedience
consisted, and to lay some restraints upon them, for
they were doing strange things, and if it had not been
tor their good intentions their demerits would have
outweighed their merits. And it was thus not only
in this monastery â€” I happen to be speaking of this
alone now â€” but in all; so much is done that I could
wish I were not concerned in them, that I might
speak thereof to the honour of our Lord in His
servants.

5. When I was there one of the sisters became sick
unto death. When she had received the Sacraments, and
the last anointing had been administered, her peace and
joy were so great that we felt we could ask her to
recommend us to God in heaven, and to the saints to
whom we had a devotion, as if she were only departing
for some other country. Shortly before she died I went
in to remain with her, having been before the Most Holy
Sacrament to bee: for her a good death from our Lord.
And so, when I went in, I saw our Lord standing in the
middle of the bed's head with his arms a little extended,
as if protecting her. He said to me that I might be
certain He would in the same way protect all the nuns
who should die in these monasteries, and that they ought
not to fear temptations in the hour of death. I was
greatly comforted and recollected, and after a little while
I spoke to her, when she said to me, ' Oh, mother, what
great things I have to see ! ' and thus she died as an
angel.

6. I observed in some nuns who died afterwards a
certain peace and quiet which was like a trance or the
tranquillity of prayer, with no signs of any temptation
whatever. I trust, therefore, in the goodness of God,
that He will have compassion on us in the hour of death,
through the merits of His Son, and of His glorious
Mother, whose habit we wear. Let us then, my
daughters, strive to become true Carmelites, for the
journey will soon be over; and if we knew the distress
that comes upon men at this time, and the cunning and
deceit with which Satan tempts them, we should make
much of this grace.

7. I am now reminded of one thing I should like to tell
you, for I knew the person, and indeed he was somewhat
of kin to some of my kindred. He was a great gambler,
and was not without some learning, by means of which
the devil began to deceive him, making him believe that
it was of no use whatever to repent in the hour of death.
He maintained this so resolutely that they could not
persuade him to make his confession; all reasoning
with him was to no purpose, and all the while he was
extremely sorry and penitent for his wicked life. But he
would say, why should he confess, for he saw that he
was already damned ? A Dominican friar, a learned
man and his confessor, did nothing but reason with
him, but Satan suggested answers so subtle that all was
in vain.

8. He remained in this state for some days. His
confessor did not know what to do, but he and others
must have prayed very earnestly to our Lord, for the
sick man found mercy. His disease being now very
serious â€” a pain in the side â€” the confessor came again,
and he may have brought with him more arguments
carefully considered wherewith to answer him, but he
would not have gained his cause if our Lord had not had
compassion upon him by softening his heart. He sat up
in his bed as if he had not been ill, and said, 'As you tell
me that my confession may do me good, well, then, I will
make it,' and sent for a clerk or notary, I do not
remember which, and made a solemn oath to abstain from
play hereafter and to amend his life, of which they were
to be witnesses. He made his confession most humbly,
and received the sacraments with such devotion that, as
far as we can judge according to our faith, he was saved.
May it be the good pleasure of our Lord, my sisters, that
we may live as true daughters of the Virgin, and keep our
rule, that our Lord may show us the mercy which He has
promised us ! Amen.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

The Foundation Of The Monasteries Of Friars And Of
Nuns At Pastrana, In One And The Same Year
1579, Mean 1569

1. â€” The Saint's joy in Toledo. â€” 2. And pain at parting. â€” 3. Directed to
go to Pastrana. â€” 4. Arrives in Madrid. â€” 5. Fray Juan de la
Miseria â€” 6. Mariano of S. Benedict. â€” 7. His vocation. â€” 8. The
Saint persuades Mariano to become a Carmelite. â€” 9. He consents.
â€” ID. A site found for the new monastery of friars. â€” 11 . The two
provincials consent â€” 12. The princess of Eboli troublesome. â€”
13. The friars established at Pastrana. â€” 14. The princess of Eboli
becomes a nun. â€” 15. The nuns depart from Pastrana.

In about a fortnight after the foundation of the
house in Toledo, when I had arranged the little church,
put up the gratings, and done what was very troublesome
to do â€” for, as I said, we remained about a year in that
house â€” and when I was worn out looking after the
workmen, and all was at last finished, it was the eve of
Pentecost.' That very morning, as we were at meals in
the refectory, I felt a great joy in seeing there was
nothing more to do, and that on this feast I could for some
time taste of the sweetness of our Lord; I could scarcely
eat, so great was the joy of my soul. I did not much
deserve this consolation, for they came to tell me while
I was thus employed that a servant of the princess of
Eboli, wife of Ruy Gomez de Silva, was waiting.
went out, and learnt that she had sent for me: it had
been arranged between us some time before that I was to
found a monastery in Pastrana. I did not think it was to
be so soon.

2. It wave me some pain, because there was great
danger in leaving a monastery so newly founded, and to
which opposition had been made. I therefore determined
at once that I would not go, and said so. He replied
that this was inconvenient, for the princess was there
already, having gone thither for no other purpose; that it
would be an affront to her. Nevertheless, I was not minded
to go, and told him so; he might go and take some
food; I would write to the princess, and he might depart.
He was a very honourable man, and, though not at all
pleased, yet when I told him my reason he was satisfied.

3. The nuns who had just arrived, and who were to
live in the monastery, did not see how it was possible
for me to quit the house so soon. I went before the
Most Holy Sacrament to beg of our Lord that I might
write in such a way as to give no offence, for we were in
a very difficult position, because of the friars who had
then begun the reform, and in every way it would be well
for us to have the good graces of Ruy Gomez, whose
influence over the king and all people was so great.
However, I do not remember whether I thought of this,
but I know well that I wished not to offend the princess.
While I was in this perplexity our Lord said to me that I
was to go without fail, that I was going for something
more than for that foundation, and that I was to take with
â€”me the rule and constitutions. When I heard this,
though I had great reasons for not going, I durst not act
but according to my custom in like circumstances, which is
to be guided by the advice of my confessor. I then sent
for him; I did not tell him what I had heard in prayer,
for I am always better satisfied so, but I implored our
Lord to give my confessors light according to the
measure of that which they naturally understand, and
His Majesty puts it into their hearts whenever He will
have anything done.

4. This has often happened to me â€” so did it now, for
my confessor, having considered the whole matter, was of
opinion T ought to go, and thereupon I determined to go.
I left Tolecio on the morrow after Pentecost. Our road
lay through Madrid, and we went to lodge, my companions
and I, in the monastery of the Franciscans, with a lady
who had founded it, and who was living in it, Dona
Leonor de Mascarenas, formerly governess of the king,
and a very great servant of our Lord. I had been lodged
there on other occasions when I had to travel that way,
and that lady ever showed me much kindness.

5. That lady told me she was glad I had come at that
time, for there was a hermit there who greatly desired to
see me, and that he and his companions, she thought,
were living in a way very like that prescribed by our rule.
To me, who had but two friars, came the thought that it
would be a great thing it by any means it were so, and so
I asked her to find an opportunity for us to speak together.
He lodged in a room which the lady had given him, with
another brother, a young man by name Fray Juan de la
Miseria, a great servant of God, and most simple in the
ways of the world. Then, when we were talking together,
he told me that he wished to go to Rome. Before I go
on further I should like to say what I know of this father,
by name Mariano of S. Benedict.

[Note: On the margin of the MS, is written by Father Gratian: " Mariano
de Aearo." Ambrogio Mariano Azaro was born in Bitonto, in the
kingdom of Naples, of noble parents. One of his companions at school,
where he was greatly distinguished, was Hugo Buoncompagno, afterwards
Pope Gregory XIII, who always retained his affection for him.
Mariano became a doctor in canon and civil law, was sent to the council
of Trent, where his ability and wisdom led to his employment in many
difficult affairs both in Germany and the Low Countries. Later on he
entered the order of S. John of Jerusalem. He came to Madrid, having
under his care the prince of Salmona, a boy of nine, and there his eyes
were opened to see the vanities of the world. In Cordova, where he
was on business of state, he made the spiritual exercises under the
direction of the Jesuits, and was inclined to join the society, but
could not make up his mind to do so, because the fathers never
met in choir, and mixed much in the world. One day, from the
window of his cell, which opened into the church â€” it was during his
retreat â€” he saw the hermit Matthew enter, by whose venerable
aspect he was attracted, and finally led into the desert of Tardon,
in the year 1562, where he lived under obedience to that simple
man, being himself not only a brave soldier, but a learned doctor, and,
the more to humble himself, gained his bread by spinning. He was
professed in Pastrana in 1570, and died in Madrid in 1594, helped in
his last hour by the presence of the martyrs SS. Cosmas and Damian, to
whom he had been very devout during his life ]

6. He was an Italian by birth, a man of very great
abilities and skill, and a doctor. When in the service of
the queen of Poland, entrusted with the ministry of her
household, having never any inclination to marry, but
holding a commandery in the order of S. John, he was
called by our Lord to give up all he possessed, that he
might the better labour for his own salvation. He had
afterwards to undergo some trouble, for the death of a
certain person was laid to his charge. Kept in prison for
two years, he would not allow a lawyer or any other to
defend him, but only God and His justice. There were
witnesses who said that he had asked them to commit the
murder. As it happened to the old men who accused S.
Susanna, so it did to these, for, each of them being
severally questioned where he was at the time, one said
he was sitting on his bed, another that he was at the
window; at last they confessed that the accusation was a
falsehood. He told me that it cost him a great sum to
set those witnesses at liberty without being punished, and
that the very man who had caused him all that trouble
fell into his hands, that he had to proceed judicially
against him, but that he had stretched his power to the
utmost not to do him any harm.

[Note: The venerable father Mateo de la Fuente, restorer of the order of
S.Basil in Spain, born about the year 1524, in Almanuete, near Toledo.
He studied in Salamanca, began his eremitical life in the neighbourhood of
Cordova, and withdrew into the recesses of the Sierra Morena because
of the concourse of the people. Blessed Juan de Avila, his director,
commanded him to take some to live with him, and thus he peopled a
desert where wild artichokes grew (Cardos syhestris), and gave it the
name of the Cardon, which was afterwards changed into the Tardon.
These hermits tilled the ground, for their maxim was that he who does
not work shall not eat. They adopted the rule of S. Basil when S. Pius
V ordered the hermits to observe a rule already approved.]

7. It must be for these and his other virtues â€” he was
a pure and chaste man, hating the conversation of women â€”
that he merited light from our Lord to see what the world
is, that he might withdraw from it. Accordingly he began
to consider which order he should enter, and, testing now
one, now another, he must have found something in all,
as he told me, unsuited for himself. He heard that some
hermits were dwelling together near Seville, in a desert
called Tardon, having for their superior a most holy man,
whom they called Father Matthew. Each hermit had his
own cell; the divine office was not said, but they had an
oratory where they met together to hear mass. They had
no revenues, and neither would nor did receive alms, but
maintained themselves by the labour of their hands, and
every one took his meals by himself poorly enough.
When I heard of it I thought it was a picture of the holy
fathers of our order. He had been living in this fashion
for eight years.

8. When the holy Council of Trent had been held, and
when the decree came forth by which all hermits were to
be brought under the discipline of the regular orders,
Mariano wished to go to Rome, to beg that they might
be left as they were; and this was his object when I spoke
to him. When he had recounted to me his way of life I
showed him the primitive rule of the order, and told him
he might without all that trouble keep his observances,
for they were the same as ours, especially that of living
by the work of his own hands, which was that which had
the greatest attraction for him. He had said to me that
the world was ruined by greed, and that this it was that
brought religion into contempt. As I was of the same
opinion myself, we agreed at once on this, and also upon
everything else; so that when I showed him how much
he might serve God in this our habit he told me he would
think of it that very night. ' I saw that his mind was
nearly made up, and understood the meaning of what I
had heard in prayer, that I was going for something more
than for a monastery of nuns." It gave me the very
greatest pleasure, for I saw that our Lord would be
greatly served by his entering the order.

9. His Majesty, who willed it, so moved his heart
during the night that he called upon me the next day,
having then fully made up his mind, and being also
amazed at the change so suddenly wrought in himself,
especially by a woman; for even to this day he sometimes
tells me so, as it she had been the cause of it, and not our
Lord, who is able to change the hearts of men. His
judgments are deep ! for this man, having lived so many
years without knowing what resolution to take concerning
his state â€” he was then in no state at all, being under no
vows or obligation beyond that of a solitary life â€” was now
so quickly led of God, who showed him how great a
service he might render Him in this state, and that He
wanted him for the purpose of carrying on what had been
begun. He has been a great help, and it has cost him
much trouble, and will cost him more before everything
is settled, it we may judge by the opposition made to
the primitive rule; for he is a man who, because of his
abilities, temper, and excellent life, has influence with
many persons who help and protect us.

10. He then told me that in Pastrana â€” the very place I
was going to â€” Ruy Gomez had given him a good
hermitage, and a place for making there a settlement for
hermits, and that he would give it to the order and take
the habit himself. I thanked him, and praised our Lord
greatly; for as yet, of the two monasteries for the
founding of which two licences had been given me by the
most reverend our father-general, only one had been
established. Thereupon I sent a messenger to the two
fathers already mentioned, the present and the last
provincial, earnestly begging them to give me leave, for
the foundation could not be made without their consent.
I wrote also to the bishop of Avila, Don Alvaro de
Mendoza, who was our great friend, asking him to
obtain the licence from them.

11. It pleased God that they should give their consent.
They must have thought that the monastery would do
them no harm in a place so far out of the way. Mariano
promised to go thither when the permission should come;
so I went away extremely glad. I found the princess and
the prince Ruy Gomez in Pastrana, by whom I was most
kindly received. They gave us a lodging for ourselves
alone, wherein we remained longer than I expected. As
the house was so small, the princess had ordered a great
part of it to be pulled down and then to be rebuilt; not
the outer walls, however, but a very large part of it.

[Note: The Saint, having asked Mariano to remain in Madrid till he
received the expected permission from the provincial, set out for
Pastrana with the two nuns who had come with her from Toledo (see
note, Â§ 4), and a postulant recommended to her by her great friend Dona
Antonia de Brances, who received in religion the name of Beatriz of the
Most Holy Sacrament. ]

12. I was there three months, during which I had much
to endure, because the princess insisted on certain things
unbecoming our order; ' and so, rather than consent to
them, I made up my mind to go away without making
the foundation; but the prince Ruy Gomez, in his
good-nature, which is very great, listened to reason, and
pacified his wife, and I accepted some of her conditions; j V
for I was more anxious for the foundation of the
monastery of the friars than for that of the nuns, seeing
how important that was, as I saw afterwards.

13. At this time Mariano and his companion arrived â€”
the hermits spoken of beforeâ€” with the licence of the
provincial. The prince and princess consented to grant
the hermitage they had given him to the barefooted friars,
while I sent for the tather Fray Antonio of Jesus, who
was the first, from Manccra, where he was at that time,
that he might begin the foundation of the monastery. I
prepared their habits and mantles for them, and did all I
could to enable them to take the habit at once. I had
sent at this time for more nuns- â€” for I had brought but
two with me the monastery in Medina del Campo.
There was a father living there, then in years â€” not very
old, however, still not young â€” but he was a great
preacher, by name Fray Baltasar de Jesus," who, when he
heard that we were founding the monastery, came with
the nuns, intending to become a barefooted friar himself,
as indeed he did when he came, and for which I gave
praise unto God when he told me of it. He gave the
habit to father Mariano and his companion, but as lay
brothers; for Mariano wished not to be a priest, but to
be less than all the rest, nor could I prevail upon him to
do otherwise. At a later time he was ordained priest by
commandment of the most reverend the father-general.

14. The two monasteries, then, being founded, and
the father Fray Antonio of Jesus having arrived, novices
began to come in â€” what they were will be known by
what I shall say of some of them further on â€” and so
earnestly to serve our Lord, as any one more able to
speak than I am â€” for I must be short even in what
regards the nuns â€” will tell, if it should so please our
Lord. As to the latter, their monastery there was held
in great esteem by the prince, and the princess, who was
very careful to comfort and treat them well down to the
death of the prince Ruy Gomez, when the devil, or
perhaps because our Lord permitted it â€” His Majesty
knows why â€” sent the princess here as a nun, in the
tumult of her grief for her husband's death. In the
distress she was in, the observance of enclosure, to which
she had never been accustomed, could not be very
pleasant for her; and the prioress, because of the holy
council, could not give her all the liberty she desired.

15. She became displeased with her, and with all the
nuns, so that, even after she laid aside the habit, and while
living in her own house, they were still an offence to her.
The poor nuns were living in such disquiet that J strove
with all my might, imploring the superiors to remove
them, that they might come to Segovia, where I was then
founding a monastery, as I shall mention further on,Thither they came, leaving behind all that the princess
had given them, but bringing with them certain nuns
whom the princess had ordered them to admit without
any dowry. The beds and trifling things which the sisters
themselves had taken with them they brought away,
leaving the inhabitants there exceedingly sorry. I had
the greatest joy in the world when I saw them in peace,
for I knew very well that they were blameless as to the
offence which the princess took â€” far from it, for they
treated her, during the time she wore the habit, with
as much respect as they did before she had put it on.
The cause of it all was that which I mentioned just
now, and the distress the princess was in, but a servant
whom she had brought with her was, I believe, to
blame for it all. In a word, our Lord, who permitted
this, must have seen that the monastery was not rightly
placed there; His judgments are high, and surpass the
understanding of us all. I could not have been so
bold as to do what I did relying on my own understanding, but I was guided by the advice of saintly and
learned men.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Of The Foundation Of The Monastery Of S. Joseph At
Salamanca, In The Year 1570. Treats Of Some Important Counsels For Prioresses

I. The Saint is invited to Salamanca.â€” 2. Hires a house. â€” 3. Leaves
Avila for Salamanca. â€” 4. Laboriousness of the Saint. â€” 5. Increased
joy of the nuns. â€” 6. Strictness of the Carmelite rule. â€” 7. Indiscreet zeal of prioresses. â€” 8. Discretion necessary. â€” 9. Spiritual
and intellectual gifts. â€” 10. Nuns not to be driven towards perfection. â€” II. Imperfections to be borne with. â€” 12. The prioresses
to be cautious in tasking the obedience of the nuns. â€” 13. Simple
obedience of a nun. â€” 14. Another instance.

When these two foundations had been made, I
returned to the city of Toledo, where I rested for some
months till the purchase of the house spoken of before was
made, and everything had been settled. While I was
thus occupied a rector of the Society of Jesus in Salamanca
wrote to me to say that a monastery of our order would
be most useful there, at the same time giving me reasons
for thinking so. I had been hitherto kept back from
founding a house in poverty there, because the place was
very poor. But, considering that Avila is quite as poor,
and that God never abandons, nor ever will, I believe,
abandon any one who serves Him, I determined to make
the foundation, making such reasonable arrangements
as I could, having but a few nuns, and they helping
themselves by the labour of their hands. Going, then,
from Toledo to Avila, I applied from that place for
the permission of the bishop, and obtained it; the
bishop was very gracious, for, as the father rector showed
him what the order is, and that the monastery would be
for the service of God, he gave his permission at once.

2. I thought myself, when I had the permission of the
ordinary, that the monastery was already founded, so
easy was everything to do. And so I contrived at once
to hire a house, which a lady I knew told me of. It
was a difficult matter, because it was not a season for
letting houses, and because it was then in the possession
of certain students, who were persuaded to give it up
whenever the persons came who were to live in it.
They knew nothing of the purpose for which it had been
hired, for I took the very greatest care of that; nothing
was to be known till after taking possession, because
I have some experience now of what the devil does to
embarrass one of these monasteries. Though God did
not suffer him to molest this at the first, because He
would have it founded, yet afterwards the trouble and
the opposition we met with were so great that everything
is not, even now while I am writing, quite got over,
notwithstanding that it has been founded for some years;
and so I believe that God is greatly pleased with it,
seeing that Satan cannot endure it.

3. Then, with the licence of the bishop and the house
secured, relying on the mercy of God â€” for there was
nobody there who could give me any help at all in
supplying the many things that were necessary for the
furnishing of that house â€” I set out for the place, taking
with me only one nun," for greater secrecy. I found it
better to do so than to take the nuns till I had
taken possession, for I had received a lesson by what
took place in Medina del Campo, when I found myself
there in great straits. Now, if any difficulties arose,
I should bear them by myself, with only one nun, whom
I could not travel without. We arrived on the eve of
All Saints, having travelled a great part of the night
before in the excessive cold, and slept in one place, being
myself very unwell.
4. In giving an account of these foundations I do not
speak of the great hardships of travelling in cold, heat,
and snow. Once it snowed the whole day long, at other
times we missed our road, and again I had sicknesses and
fever; for, glory be to God, my health is generally weak,
but I saw clearly that our Lord was giving me strength.
It has happened to me from time to time, while occupied
in these foundations, to find myself amidst such pains and
sufferings as distressed me much, for it seemed to me if
I were then even in my cell, I could have done nothing
but lie down on my bed, turn to our Lord, complaining
to His Majesty, and asking Him how it was that He
would have me do what was beyond my power. His
Majesty would then give me strength, not without
suffering however, and in the fervour and earnestness with
which He filled me I seemed to have forgotten myself.
So far as I remember at present I never retrained from
making a foundation through fear of trouble, though
I felt a great dislike to journeys, especially long ones;
but when I had once started I thought nothing of them,
looking to Him in whose service they were undertaken,
and calling to mind that our Lord would be praised, and
that the Most Holy Sacrament would dwell, in the house
I was going to found. It is a special joy to me to see
one church more, when I consider how many the
Lutherans are destroying. I know of no trouble, however great it may be, that should be dreaded when it
is the condition of obtaining so great a good for
Christendom; and it should be a great consolation to us
â€” though many among- us do not think of it â€” that Jesus
Christ, true God and true man, dwells, as He does,
in so many places in the Most Holy Sacrament.

5. Certainly, as for myself, I have a great consolation
frequently in choir when I behold these souls, so pure,
intent on the praises of God, nor does it tail me on
many other occasions, for it is joy to me to see their
obedience and happiness, which so strict an enclosure and
solitude supply them, and their cheerfulness when they
have any opportunity of mortifying themselves. Whenever the prioress is enabled by a greater grace from our
Lord to try them herein, there I see the greater happiness; and the prioress then is more wearied of trying
them than they are of obeying, for their desires are never
satisfied herein.

6. Though I may be wandering from the story of the
foundation which I had begun to describe, certain considerations now suggest themselves to me on the subject
of mortification, and perhaps, my children, they will be
of service to the prioress; so, lest I should forget, I will
now tell them. As the prioresses have different gifts
and virtues, so they wish to direct their nuns accordingly.
She who is most mortified will look upon everything she
may order for the purpose of subduing the will as easy
to do: it may be so for her, and yet perhaps it may be
very hard to obey. This is what we have seriously to
consider: we are not to command others to do what
seems very hard to ourselves. Discretion is a great thing
in government, and exceedingly necessary in these houses
â€” I am going to say much more necessary than in others â€”
because the prioresses here have to watch more carefully
over the interior state and the outward demeanour of their
subjects. Other prioresses of much spirituality would be
glad if all were given to prayer. In a word, our Lord
leads souls onwards by different roads; the prioresses,
however, must consider that they have not been appointed
to guide souls by the road which they like themselves,
but rather to direct their subjects according to the rule
and constitutions, even it they have to do violence to
themselves herein, and prefer another way.

7. I was once in a monastery of ours with a prioress
for whom penance had a great attraction." She directed
all the sisters by that way. At one time the whole
community took the discipline, reciting the seven
penitential psalms with the prayers, and had other
observances of the same kind. The same thing happens
if the prioress be given to prayer: she occupies the
community therein, though it be not the time for prayer,
even after matins, when it would be much better if all the
nuns went to sleep. If, again, she is given to mortification, there is to be no rest anywhere, and those poor
flocks of the Virgin are silent like lambs. All this,
certainly, is to me a source of shame and devotion, and
at times a strong temptation, for the sisters, all absorbed
in God, do not perceive it, but I fear for their health,
and would rather they kept the rule, for that gives them
enough to do, and whatever is beside that should be done
with gentleness. This matter of mortification especially is
of great importance, and I would have the prioresses, for
the love of our Lord, look into it; for in these houses
it is a very important thing to have discretion and to
understand dispositions, and if herein they are not very
observant they will do great harm instead of good, and
make the sisters uneasy.

8. They must consider that mortification of this kind
is not of obligation: that is the first thing they have to
look to. Though it is most necessary to enable souls to
attain to liberty and high perfection, that is not gained in
a moment, and they must therefore help every one
onwards according to the intellectual and spiritual gifts
which God has given them. You may think that understanding is not necessary for this: that is a mistake, for
there are some who must labour much before they can
arrive at the knowledge of perfection and of the spirit of
our rule, and afterwards, perhaps, these very persons will
be the most saintly; they may not know when it is safe
to excuse themselves, nor when it is not, and they may
be ignorant of other minute observances which, when
they shall have understood them, they will keep perhaps
with ease, and which they never thoroughly understand,
nor â€” which is worse â€” look upon as matters appertaining
unto perfection.

9. In one of our monasteries is a sister who, so far as
I can see, is one of the greatest servants of God there â€”
great in spirituality, in the graces His Majesty bestows
upon her, and in penance and humility â€” but she does not
understand certain things in the constitutions; the
mentioning of the faults of others in chapter she considers
to be a want of charity, and says that when she has to tell
anything of the sisters, or anything of that kind, she may
be speaking against a sister who may be a great servant
of God; and yet in other ways I see that she far surpasses those who understand the constitutions well.
The prioress must not think that she sees into souls at
once: let her leave this with God, who alone can see
into them; but let her labour to guide each soul by the
way His Majesty is guiding it, always supposing that
there is no failure of obedience, or in the more essential
points of the rule and constitutions. She who, among
the eleven thousand virgins, went and hid herself, was
not the less a saint and martyr: on the contrary, perhaps
she suffered more than the others in coming afterwards
alone to offer herself for martyrdom.

10. I return now to the subject of mortification.
A prioress, to mortify a sister, bids her do something
which, though in itself a trifle, is yet a burden to the
nun. When it is done the sister is so disturbed and
tempted that it would have been better if such a
command had not been given her. The moment this
becomes evident the prioress should consider that she
cannot make her perfect by a strong arm, but should
rather dissemble, and proceed by degrees till our Lord
shall have done this work in her, lest what is done for
the purpose of bringing her on â€” for without this particular form of perfection she might be a very good nun
â€” should be an occasion of disquiet to her, and an
affliction of spirit, which is a most dreadful thing. If
that nun sees the others doing these things she too by
degrees will do them; we have found it so; and if she
should not she may be saved without this virtue

11. I know one of this kind, whose whole life has
been most virtuously spent, who for many years and in
many ways has served our Lord, but who has some
imperfections and certain feelings at times over which she
has no control; she is aware of it, and comes to me in
her distress. God, I think, lets her fall into these
imperfections without sin on her part â€” there is no sin in
them â€” that she may humble herself, and see thereby that
she is not altogether perfect. Some, then, there are
who will undergo great mortifications â€” and the greater
the mortifications enjoined the greater will be their
pleasure therein â€” because our Lord has endowed their
souls with strength to give up their own will; others
will not be able to endure even slight ones, and they are
as a child loaded with two bushels (fanegas) of corn, who
not only cannot carry them, but breaks down under the
burden and tails to the ground. Forgive me, then, my
daughters â€” I am speaking to the prioresses â€” for that
which I have observed in some has made me dwell so
long upon this.

12. I have another caution to give, and it is very
important: never command anything, even for the trial
of a sister's obedience, which may be to her, if she does
it, even a venial sin. I have known some things
enjoined which would have been mortal if they had been
done: the sisters, however, might perhaps have been
safe in their innocence â€” not so the prioress who never
commands anything that is not instantly done. As they
hear and read what the saints of the desert did, they look
upon every thing enjoined them as good â€” at least the doing
of it. And the subjects also must consider that they are
not to do that, even when enjoined them, which would be
mortal sin when not enjoined, except absence from mass,
or the non-observance of a fast of the church, or actions of
that kind, for in these matters the prioress may have her
reasons; but to throw oneself into a well and acts of that
nature are mistakes, because no one ought to suppose
that God will work a miracle, as He did for the saints.
There are ways enough to practise perfect obedience, and
every way that is tree from these dangers I commend.

13. Once a sister in Malagon begged leave to take the
discipline, and the prioress â€” others must have made the
same request â€” replied, ' Leave me alone.' But, as she
was importunate, the prioress said, ' Go along; leave me
alone.' Thereupon the nun, with great simplicity,
walked about for some hours, till one of the sisters asked
her why she was walking so much, or said something to
that effect. She replied that she had been ordered to do
so. Meanwhile the bell rung for matins, and when the
prioress asked why that nun had not come the other told
her what was going on. It is necessary, as I said before,
that the prioresses should be very cautious in dealing
with souls whom they already know to be obedient, and
consider what they are doing.

14. To another prioress came a nun, and showed her
a very large worm, saying, ' Look how beautiful it is ! '
The prioress in jest replied, 'Then go and eat it.' She
went and fried it. The cook asked her why she fried
a worm, and she answered, ' To eat it,' and would have
done so. Thus through the mere carelessness of the
prioress that nun might have done herself much harm,
I am the more delighted with obedience when carried to
an extreme, for I have a particular devotion to this virtue.
I have therefore done all I could, that all the sisters
might have it; nevertheless all my efforts would have
been little worth if our Lord had not, in the excesses of
His compassion, given them the grace, all of them, to
feel a special attraction for it. May it please His
Majesty to increase it more and more! Amen."

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Continuation Of The Foundation Of The Monastery Of
S. Joseph In The City Of Salamanca

1 . The Saint recommends learned confessors. â€” 2. Nicholas Gutierrez. â€”
3. The Saint takes possession. â€” 4. Poverty of the house at first. â€”
5. Terrors of Sister Mary. â€” 6. The house is not healthy. â€” 7. The
Saint returns to Salamanca in August 1573. â€” 8. And takes possession of the new monastery. â€” 9. Troubles with the owner of the
house. â€” 10. Who cannot come to any terms.

I HAVE wandered fur away from the subject, for,
whenever anything occurs to me which it pleased our
Lord I should learn by experience, it is distressing not
to speak of it; it may be that it will do good, as I think
it will. Do you, my daughters, go always for direction
to learned men, for thereby shall you find the way of
perfection in discretion and truth. It is very necessary
for prioresses, if they would execute their office well, to
have learned men for their confessors â€” if not they will
do many foolish things, thinking them to be saintly;
and, moreover, they must contrive that their nuns go to
confession to learned men.

2. About noon, then, on the eve of All Saints, in the
year already mentioned, we came to Salamanca. From
my lodging I sent for a good man living there, whom I
had trusted with the work of getting the house emptied
for us. His name is Nicholas Gutierrez,- a great servant
of God, who by his good life had obtained from His
Majesty peace and contentment amid his heavy trials â€”
and they were many, for he was once very prosperous,
but was at this time in great poverty, which he bore as
joyfully as he had borne his prosperity. He laboured
much with great devotion and goodwill in the making of
this foundation. When he came he told me that the
house was not yet empty, for he had not been able to
persuade the students to go out. I told him how
much it concerned me to have possession of it at once,
before it was known that I was in the town; for I
was always afraid of some disturbance, as I said before.'
He went to the owner of the house, and took so much
trouble in the matter that the house was left empty in
the evening. We went in when it was nearly dark.

3. This was the first foundation I made without the
presence of the Most Holy Sacrament, for I did not
think that I took possession if He was not lodged in the
house. I had now learnt that it made no difference, which
was a great comfort to me, because the students had left
the house in a very unseemly state, and, as they had but
little regard for cleanliness, the whole place was in such
a condition that we had no slight work to do that night,
4. Early the next morning mass was said there for the
first time, and I sent for more nuns, who were to come
from Medina del Campo. My companion and I were
alone the night of All Souls. I have to tell you one
thing, my sisters, at which I am ready to laugh when I
remember it â€” the fears of my companion, Mary of the
Blessed Sacrament, a nun older than myself, and a great
servant of God. The house was very large and rambling,
with many garrets, and my companion could not get the
students out of her thoughts, thinking that, as they were
so annoyed at having to quit the house, some of them
might be still hiding in it: they could very easily do so,
for there was room enough. We shut ourselves up in a
room wherein the straw was placed, that being the first
thing I provided for the founding of the house, for with
the straw we could not fail to have a bed. That night
we slept on it, covered by two blankets that had been lent
us. The next day the nuns who lived close by, and who,
we thought, were not at all pleased with us, lent us
blankets for our sisters that were to come, and sent us
alms. It was the monastery of S, Elizabeth, and all the
time we remained in that house they rendered us many
kind services and gave us alms.

[Note: Anne of the Incarnation, Mary of Christ, Jeronyma of Jesus
came from Medina; from Avila came Anne of Jesus and Juana of
Jesus, and from Toledo Mary of S. Francis, novice. Anne of the
Incarnation was made prioress, and Mary of Christ sub-prioress. ]

[Note: The nuns sent food to the Saint the very day she came, and
continued to do so. They were nuns of the third order
of S. Francis, and the house was suppressed in 1857. ]

5. When my companion saw herself shut up in the
room she seemed somewhat at her case about the
students, though she did nothing but look about her,
first on this side and then on the other; still she was
afraid, and Satan must have helped her to imagine
dangers for the purpose of troubling me, for, owing to
the weakness of the heart from which I suffer, very little
is enough to do it. I asked her why she was looking
about, seeing that nobody could possibly come in. She
replied, ' Mother, I am thinking, if I were to die now,
what you would do alone.' I thought it would be a very
disagreeable thing if it happened. It made me dwell on
it for a moment, and even to be afraid, for, though I am
not afraid of dead bodies, they always cause a certain
faintness of the heart even when I am not alone. And
as the bells were tolling â€” it was, as I said before, the eve
of All Souls â€” the devil took advantage of that to make
us waste our thoughts upon trifles; when he sees we are
not afraid of him he searches for other means. I answered
her, ' Sister, when that shall happen I will consider what
I shall do; now let me go to sleep.' As we had spent
two nights without rest, sleep soon put an end to our
fears. More nuns came on the following day, and then
all our terrors were over.

6. The community remained in the same house about
three years â€” I am not sure it was not four â€” almost unheeded. But I was ordered to go to the monastery of the
Incarnation in Avila, for of my own will I would never
leave a house, nor did I leave any, till it was properly
ordered and arranged, for herein God has been very
gracious unto me: it is a joy to me to be the foremost in
trouble, and I used to provide, even to the minutest
matters, whatever might be of use and comfort to the
nuns, as if I had to live in that house all my life, and
accordingly I was glad when the sisters were happily
settled. I was very sorry for the sufferings of the nuns
here â€” not, however, arising from the want of food, for
the house being very much out of the way, and therefore
not likely to receive much alms, I took, care to provide
for it from the place where I was staying, but from its
unhealthiness, it being damp and excessively cold, and
that could not be helped because of its great size. But
the worst of all was the absence of the Most Holy
Sacrament, which in a house so strictly enclosed was a
serious privation. They did not take it too much to
heart, but bore it all so contentedly that I cannot but
praise our Lord for it; and some of them told me that
they considered it an imperfection to wish for another
house, and would have been well pleased to remain there
if they could have had the Most Holy Sacrament,

7. Afterwards the superior," seeing their perfection and
the troubles they had to bear, had compassion on them,
and sent for me from the monastery of the Incarnation."
They had already arranged with a nobleman" to take a
house of him, but it was in such a state as to make it
necessary to spend more than a thousand ducats on it
before they could go into it: the house was an entail,
and the owner agreed that we might enter into possession
of it, and also raise the walls, though the king's licence
was not had. I got Father Julian of Avila to accompany
me â€” he it is whom I have spoken of as going with me in
these foundations â€” he went with me, and we looked at
the house that we might be able to say what should be
done to it, for experience has taught me much in these
matters. We set out In August, and though we made
all possible haste, we were delayed till Michaelmas,
which is the time of letting houses there: our house was
far from being finished, and that in which we were then
living, as we had not hired it for another year, had
already found a tenant, and he was hurrying us out of it.
The white-washing of the church was nearly done. The
nobleman who had sold us the house was away: some
people who wished us well said we had done wrong in
going in so soon; but where necessity drives good advice
is ill received if no help is given with it.

8. We went in on the vigil of S. Michael, a little before
dawn. It had been already made known that on the
feast of S. Michael the Most Holy Sacrament was to take
up His dwelling there, and that a sermon was to be
preached. It was our Lord's pleasure that on the eve of
our going in so heavy a rain should fall as to make it difficult
to take what was most necessary for us into the house.
The chapel was newly built, but the roof was so badly
made that the rain came through the greater part of it.
I tell you, my daughters, that I found I was very imperfect that day. As notice had been given, I knew not
what to do; I did nothing but bewail myself, and so, as
if complaining, I said to our Lord that He must either
not bid me to apply myself to these foundations or relieve
us in our present necessity. The good man Nicholas
Gutierrez, with his usual calmness, as if nothing was
amiss, told me very gently not to distress myself â€” God
would send help. So He did, for on the feast of
S. Michael, when it was time for the people to come, the
sun began to shine â€” which stirred up my devotion
exceedingly â€” and I saw how much better that holy man
had done by trusting in God than I had done with all
my labour.

[Note: This incident is told somewhat differently in the life of Ven. Anne
of Jesus. The translation was fixed on the feast of S. Michael, Fray
Diego de Estella, Franciscan, a celebrated preacher, having been engaged
and an immense number of people looking forward to the ceremony,
when, on the eve, torrential rains burst over the town; the chapel was
far from finished, the roof having been made so badly that there were
holes through which the rain entered flooding the whole sanctuary. It
was eight o'clock in the evening; S. Teresa was engaged in the porch
with Father Julian Davila and the chaplain of the convent of Alba, the
Licentiate Nieto. In her heart she said to our Lord: ' My adorable
master, either do not command me such undertakings, or come to our
help in our present need.' The workmen, too, were deliberating as to
the course to be taken for it was clearly out of question to continue
the work. At this moment, Ven. Anne, with two other nuns, approached the Saint and said in a decided tone: "Your Reverence
knows what time it is, and how many people are coming to-morrow;
could you not ask God to stop this rain so that we may prepare the
altars ? ' Saint Teresa replied in the same tone: ' Ask Him yourself if
you think He would do it so speedily at my request.' Seeing she was
annoyed Anne withdrew but had hardly reached the courtyard when,
looking up, she saw the sky so clear and bright as if it had never been
raining. She at once returned and said to the Saint before the same
witnesses: Your Reverence might very well have asked this favour a
little sooner '; and, to the visitors: ' Leave us alone that we may get
the chapel ready.' Saint Teresa looked at her smilingly and went to her
room.]

9. Many people came, and we had music, and the
Most Holy Sacrament was brought in with great solemnity.
As the house was in a good position, it began to be
known and regarded with respect; the countess of
Monterey, Dona Maria Pimentel, in particular, and a
lady, Dona Mariana, the wife of the governor, were very
kind to us. Immediately afterwards, on the next day, to
moderate our joy in the possession of the Most Holy
Sacrament, came the nobleman, the owner of the house,
so exceedingly out of temper that I did not know what
to do with him, and Satan urged him so that he would
not listen to reason: we, however, had. fulfilled our
bargain with him, but it was useless to tell him so. He
softened a little when some people spoke to him, but he
afterwards changed his mind. I now resolved to give
up the house; that did not please Him, because he
wanted to have the price of it at once. His wife â€”
the house belonged to her â€” had wished to sell it, that
she might dower her two daughters; and it was on that
ground the licence for alienation was sought, the money
being deposited in the hands of a person chosen by him.

10. It is now three years since this affair was begun,
and the purchase is not yet made, and I do not know
whether the monastery will remain here â€” I mean in this
house â€” that is why I speak of it â€” or where it shall
be settled.' What I do know is thisâ€” in none of the
monasteries of the primitive rule which our Lord has
hitherto founded have the nuns had so much to suffer as
in this. They are so good that, by the mercy of God,
they bear it all with joy. May it please His Majesty
that they may grow still better ! for it is of little consequence whether the house we have is good or bad: on
the contrary, it is a great pleasure to us to find ourselves
in a house out of which we may be driven at any time,
remembering that the Lord of the world had none. It
has been often our lot, as may be seen in the history of
these foundations, to live in a house that is, or was, not
our own, and the truth is that I have never seen one of
the nuns distressed about it. May it please His Divine
Majesty, of His infinite goodness and mercy, that we
fail not to reach the everlasting dwelling-places ! Amen,
amen.

[Note: After the death of the Saint, the nuns were obliged to leave the
house owing to the difficult temper of Don Pedro. After a short
sojourn in another house they retired to the hospice of the Rosary,
close to the Dominican Convent of San Esteban. They
left it in the year 1614, and settled outside the Villamayor Gate
(Reforma, bk. iii. ch. xxiii. 3). The house was almost ruined by the
Portuguese during the war of succession, but was rebuilt and still serves
as a convent. ]

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

On The Foundation Of The Monastery Of Our Lady Of The
Annunciation, At Alba De Formes, In The Year 1571

1. â€” Alba de Tormes. â€” 2. Birth of Teresa de Layz. â€” 3. Blindness of
parents. â€” 4. Miraculous speech of the infant. â€” 5. Piety of Teresa
de Layz. â€” 6. She removes to Salamanca. â€” 7. Prays for children.
â€” 8. The foundation of a monastery resolved on. â€” 9. Returns to
Alba de Tormes. â€” 10. Difficulties suggested. â€” 11. And miraculously
removed. â€” 12. Teresa de Layz goes to the Saint. â€” 13. Why some
omissions are made.

Two months had not passed since I took possession,
on all Souls' Day, of the house in Salamanca, when I was
urged, on the part of the steward of the duke of Alba and
his wife, to found a monastery in that town. I was not
very willing to do so, for it would be necessary, because
it was a small place, to have an endowment, and my
inclination was never to have any. The father master,
Fray Domingo Banez, my confessor, of whom I spoke in
the beginning of the history of these foundations, being
then in Salamanca, rebuked me, and said that, as the
council allowed endowments, it would not be well if I
refrained from founding a monastery for that reason â€” that
I did not understand the matter, for an endowment need
not hinder the nuns from being poor and most perfect.
Before I say more I will tell who the foundress was, and
how our Lord made her the foundress of this house.

2. Teresa de Layz, the foundress of the monastery of
the Annunciation of our Lady of Alba de Tormes, was
the daughter of parents of noble birth, ancient lineage,
and honoured ancestry, who, because they were not so
wealthy as they were well-born, had settled in a place
called Tordillos, some two leagues from Alba. It is very
sad, because so much vanity is in the world, that people
should willingly undergo the loss of instruction, and of
many other things which help to give light to the soul,
which is inseparable from dwelling in small villages,
rather than give up one of those distinctions which that
which men call their honour carries with it. They had
four daughters already when Teresa was born, and were )
much distressed when they saw that she too was a girl.

3. It certainly is a thing much to be lamented that
mortal men not knowing what is best for them, as
persons wholly ignorant of the judgments of God, discerning neither what great blessings may come by daughters
nor what great evils by sons, should seem so unwilling
to leave it in His hands to whom everything is known
and by whom all things are made, but must fret themselves to death about that in which they should rather
rejoice. As people whose faith is asleep, they will not
seriously consider nor remember that it is God who thus
ordains â€” that they may leave it all in His hands; and
now, when they are so blind as not to do so, it is
a great ignorance not to understand how little they gain
by their fretting. O my God, in what a different light
shall we look on our ignorances in that day when the truth
of all things shall be made known ! How many fathers
will have to go to hell because of their sons, and again
how many mothers will go to heaven by the help of
their daughters !

4. To go back to what I was saying, things came to
this pass, that, as if the infant's life was of no importance
to them, she was left alone on the third day after she was
born, and nobody thought of her from morning till night.
One good thing they had done â€” they had had her
baptised by a priest as soon as she was born. When
night came a woman, who had the charge of her, and who
knew what had happened, ran to see if she was dead,
and with her some others who had come to visit the
mother, and who were witnesses of what I am going to
say. The woman, in tears, took the child into her arms
and said, ' How, my child ? Are you not a Christian ? '
as much as to say that she had been cruelly dealt with.
The child raised its head and said, 'Yes, I am.' She
never spoke again till she had reached the age at which
children usually speak. They who knew her were
amazed, and her mother then began to cherish and caress
her, and used often to say she should like to live to
see what God would do with the child. She brought her
children up most admirably, teaching them all the
practice of virtue.

5. When the time had come they wanted her to
marry; she refused, having no wish to do so; but when
she found that it was Francis Velasquez, founder also of
this house, and now her husband, who sought her in
marriage, though she had never seen him in all her life,
yet, merely on hearing his name spoken, she made up
her mind to be married it they would let her marry him.
Our Lord saw that this was necessary for the doing of
that good work which they have done together for the
service of His Majesty. Francis Velasquez is not only
a wealthy and good man, but he is one who so loves his
wife that he does her pleasure in everything, and for good
reasons, because whatever may be required in a wife our
Lord has most abundantly supplied. She is not only
careful of his house, but is also exceedingly good, for when
her husband took her to Alba, his native place, and the
quarter-masters of the duke assigned a lodging in her
house to a young knight, she felt it so much that she
hated the place, for, being young and very beautiful,
evil might have happened if she had not been so good,
seeing that Satan began to suggest evil thoughts to the
knight.

6. She, perceiving this, but without saying anything
about it to her husband, asked him to cake her elsewhere;
he did so, and brought her to Salamanca, where they
lived in great happiness and worldly prosperity, for he
held an office on account of which everybody wished
much to satisfy and please them. One trouble only they
had â€” our Lord left them childless. She used to practise
many devotions and make many prayers to obtain
children of our Lord, and never begged anything else
from Him but children who when she was dead were to
praise His Majesty; for she thought it hard that all
should end with her, and that when her time was come
she should leave none behind to praise God. She told
me herself that she had no other reason for desiring
children, and she is a woman of great truthfulness; she
is so pious and so good a Christian, as I have already
said, that she makes me give thanks to God when I see
her good works, and consider how anxious she is always
to please Him, and to spend all her time unceasingly in
His service.

7. She passed many years having this desire,' praying
also to S. Andrew, who she was told would intercede for
her in her trouble. One night, after her many other
devotions were over which she used habitually to make,
she heard a voice, when she had laid down to sleep,
saying, ' Do not wish for children: why damn thyself?'
She was very much astonished and alarmed, but for
all this the wish to have children never left her; for, as
the end she had in view was so good, she could not see
why she should be damned for it, and so she went on
praying to our Lord for children, and making special
prayers to S. Andrew in particular. On one occasion,
entertaining this desire, she does not know whether she
was awake or asleep â€” be that as it may, she knows by the
results it was a good vision â€” she seemed to be in a
certain house in the court of which, beneath the gallery,
was a well, and there she saw a meadow fresh and green,
covered with white flowers in such great beauty that she
cannot describe what she saw. Close to the well she
beheld S. Andrew in a most venerable and beautiful form,
so that it was a great joy to look upon him: he said to
her, ' These children are different from those whom thou
desirest.' She wished the great joy she had in that
place might not come to an end, but it did not last.
She saw distinctly it was S. Andrew, without being told
so by anybody, and also that it was our Lord's will that
she should found a monastery; whereby we may see that
the vision was as much intellectual as imaginary â€” that it
could not be fancy or an illusion of Satan.

8. In the first place, it was no fancy, because of the
great results that flowed from it, for from that moment
she never again wished for children: she was so persuaded in her heart that it was the will of God that she
neither asked nor even desired to have children any more,
on the contrary she began to think of the means of
carrying out our Lord's wish. Next it is clear also that
the voice came not from Satan, because of the effects of
it; for nothing that comes from him can do any good,
as the founding of a monastery is, wherein our Lord is
greatly served. And, again, it could not be from Satan,
because it took place more than six years before the monastery was founded, and Satan cannot know what is coming.
Being much amazed at the vision, she said to her
husband that they might as well found a monastery,
seeing that it was not God's will they should have
children. As he was so good, and loved her so much,
her husband was delighted at it, and they began to
consider where they should make a foundation. She
was for the place where she was born: he suggested to
her many good reasons against it, in order that she might
see It would not do to build it there.

9. While they were discussing the matter the duchess
of Alba sent for the husband, and when he had come
asked him to return to Alba, and there undertake a
charge and office she gave him in her household. He,
when he saw what she required of him and had spoken
to him about, accepted it, though much less profitable
than his office in Salamanca. His wife when she heard
of it was much distressed, because, as I said before, she
hated the place; but on being assured by him that no
lodgers would be admitted into the house she was somewhat satisfied, though still very sorry, because she liked
Salamanca better. He bought a house and sent for her;
she came in great grief, and was more grieved still when
she saw the house, for, though it was in a very good
situation and large, yet it had not many rooms, and so she
passed the night in very great sadness. The next morning,
on entering the court, she saw on that very side of it the
well beside which she had seen S. Andrew; everything
was precisely as she had seen it in the vision â€” neither more
or less â€” I mean the place itself â€” but she did not see the
Saint, or the meadow, or the flowers, though then and
always present to her imagination. On seeing this she was
troubled, and made up her mind to found a monastery on
the spot. She was now comforted and in peace, without any
wish to go elsewhere to live, and they began to buy
other houses near, till they had acquired ground enough.
lo. She was very anxious to find out what order it
should belong to, her wish being that the nuns should be
few, and the enclosure strict. In discussing the matter
with two religious of different orders, very good and
learned men, she was recommended by both to do some
other good work in preference, because nuns, for the most
part, are discontented people. Many other things of
that kind they said to her; for, as Satan hated the work,
he wished to hinder it, and so he made them consider the
reasons they were giving as very weighty. As they
insisted so much upon it that there was no good in
founding a monastery, and as Satan too, who had a
greater interest in hindering it, made her afraid and
uneasy, she resolved not to go on with her work, and
said so to her husband; and then, as people of that kind
told them it was not right, and as they had no other
object but that of serving our Lord, they thought it right
to forgo their purpose. Accordingly they agreed to
marry a nephew of hers, a child of her sister whom she
loved much, to a niece of her husband, and to give them
a great portion of their property, and with the remainder
to make provision for their own souls: the nephew was
very good and very young.

11. They were both bent on this, and perfectly
satisfied with their plan. But, as our Lord had other
designs, their agreement was of little worth, for within a
fortnight the nephew became so ill that in a few days our
Lord took him to Himself. To her it was a most bitter
sorrow: the resolution they had come too, of giving up
that which God wished them to do, in order to enrich the
nephew, had been the occasion of his death, and she fell
into a great fear. She called to mind what had happened to
the prophet Jonas because he would not obey God, for it
seemed as if God was chastising her by taking from her a
nephew whom she loved so much. From that day forth
she was resolved to let nothing hinder the founding of
the monastery, and so was her husband, though they did
not know how to compass their end. God put into her
heart â€” so it seems â€” that which is now done; and they
to whom she spoke and described the kind of monastery
she wished to have â€” in particular her confessor, a
Franciscan friar, a learned and distinguished man â€”
ridiculed it, for they thought she would never find what
she was seeking. She was in very great trouble.

12. This friar happened to go, about this time, to a
certain place where he was told of these monasteries of
our Lady of Carmel which were being then established.
Having obtained much information about them, he
returned and told her that he had now learnt that she
could found her monastery, and in the way she wished.
He told her what had happened, and recommended her
to find means of speaking to me. She did so. We had
a great deal of trouble in making: the arrangement for I
have always laboured to have the monasteries which are
endowed sufficiently furnished, so that there shall be no
need for the nuns to apply to their kindred or to anybody
else, that they shall have in the house whatever is
necessary in food and raiment, and that the sick shall be
well cared for, because many inconveniences result from
the want of what is necessary. I have never been without the courage and the confidence necessary for founding
monasteries without revenues, for I was certain God
would never fail them; but I have no heart for founding
monasteries to be endowed and that scantily; I think
it better not to found them at all. At last they
became reasonable, and assigned a sufficient endowment
for the number of nuns; they also did that which I
thought much of â€” they left their own house and gave it
to us, going themselves to live in one that was in a
wretched state. The Most Holy Sacrament was reserved
and the foundation made on the feast of the Conversion
of S. Paul, in the year 1571, to the honour and glory of
God; and in that house, I believe. His Majesty is well
served. May it please Him ever to prosper it ! "

13. I began by giving some account of particular sisters
in these monasteries, thinking that when people came to
read what I am writing those sisters would not be then
alive: my purpose was to encourage those who came to
us to go onwards according to such a good beginning
Afterwards I considered that there mi"ht be found some
one who would Jo it better, and more in detail, and
without the fear that troubles me, for I have been thinking
that I shall be considered as an interested person. I have
therefore omitted many things which they who have seen
and known them cannot help regarding as miraculous,
because supernatural. I will not speak on this subject,
neither will I speak of those things which our Lord
visibly granted to their prayers. In the dates of the
foundations I suspect I am occasionally in error, though
I am as careful as I can be to refresh my memory. As
it is not a matter of much importance, and the correction
can be made hereafter, I speak to the best of my recollection: it wall make but little difference if there should be
some mistakes.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Treats Of The Foundation Of The Glorious S.Joseph Of Carmel
At Segovia. Founded On The Feast Of S. Joseph, 1574

1. Our Lord bids the Saint found .mother monastery. â€” 2. She asks the
permission of the visitor. â€” 3. Dona Ana de Jimena. â€” 4. The Saint
takes possession. â€” 5. Antonio Gaytan. â€” 6. The nuns to be
grateful. â€” 7. Conduct of the Vicar-General. â€” 8. The Saint has
law-suits. â€” 9. Which she settles by paying money â€” 10. She
returns to Avila.

I HAVE already said that after founding the
monasteries in Salamanca and in Alba, but before the nuns
of Salamanca were settled in a house of their own, I was
sent by the father. Fray Pedro Fernandez, then apostolic
commissary, to the monastery of the Incarnation in
Avila for three years, and that he, seeing the distressed
state of the house in Salamanca, sent me back to remove
the nuns into a house of their own. I was in prayer
there one day when our Lord commanded me to go and
make a foundation in Segovia. It seemed to me an
impossibility, because I could not go unless I was
ordered, and I had heard from the father-master. Fray
Pedro Fernandez, the apostolic commissary, that he did
not wish me to make any more foundations. I saw at
the same time that, the three years I had to stay in the
Incarnation not being ended, he had good reasons for not
desiring any. While I was thinking of this our Lord bade
me speak to him about it, for he would give his consent.

2. I was in Salamanca at the time, and wrote to the
commissary saying that he was aware the most reverend
the father-general had commanded me never to fail to
make foundations wherever an opportunity occurred;
that the bishop and city of Segovia had consented to
admit a monastery of our order, which I would found it
he would order me; that I was informing him of the
fact for the satisfaction of my conscience, and whatever
orders he might give I should be safe and contented.
These, I believe, were the words I used, or nearly so,
adding that I thought it was for the service of God. It
was plainly the will of His Majesty, for he commanded
me at once to make the foundation, and gave his permission, at which I was much astonished, remembering
what I had heard him say on the subject. From Salamanca
I found means to have a house hired for us," for since the
foundations In Toledo and Valladolid were made I had
felt it was better, for many reasons, to take possession
first, and then look for a house of our own. My chief
reason was, that I had no money wherewith to buy
a house; that, the monastery once founded, our Lord
would provide one forthwith; and that a better site
might be then selected.

3. There lived there a lady, Dona Ana de Jimena, who
had been the wife of the heir to an entailed estate.
She had visited me once In Avila, and was a very great
servant of God. Her vocation had always been that of
a nun. Accordingly, when the monastery was established,
she came In with a daughter of hers, who had led a most
pious life; and for the trouble she had had as wife and
widow our Lord repaid her twofold in religion. The
mother and daughter had always lived most devoutly in
the service of God. This saintly lady took the house,
and whatever she saw we needed, whether for the church
or for ourselves, that she provided, and I had but little
trouble in the matter. But, that there might be no
foundation made without some trouble, I was always
unwell during the six months I was there; besides,
I had gone thither inwardly ill at ease, for my soul was
in very great dryness and darkness; I had a fever upon
me, and loathed my food, with many other bodily ailments
which for three months oppressed me sorely.

4. On the feast of S. Joseph the Most Holy Sacrament
was reserved, and, though I had the sanction both of the
bishop and of the city, I would not enter but in secret
the night before. It was a long time now since the
sanction had been given, and, as I was in the Incarnation,
having a superior other than the most reverend the
father-general, I had not been able to make the foundation. The bishop's permission who was there when
the city asked it of him, was a verbal one, given to
a nobleman, Andres de Jimena, who asked for it on our
behalf. He did not take the trouble to have it in writing,
nor did I think it was of any importance myself. I made
a mistake, for the vicar-general, when he heard that a
monastery had been founded, came at once in great wrath,
refused to allow mass to be said any more, and sought to
imprison him who had said it, a barefooted friar ' who had
come with the father Julian of Avila, and another servant
of God who had travelled with us, Antonio Gaytan.

5. This was a nobleman from Alba," who had once
been very worldly, but whom our Lord had called some
years since. He so trampled on the world that his
whole soul was intent on serving our Lord more and
more. I have said who he was because I shall have
to speak of him again in giving an account of the other
foundations, for he has helped me much, and undertaken great labours for me: if I were to speak of his
goodness I should not finish so soon. What was of
most service to us was his mortification, for even among
the servants who were with us there was not one who
served us in our necessities as he did. He is a man of
much prayer, and God has given him such graces that
what is annoying to others he accepts with joy and makes
light of; all the troubles he had in these foundations he
regarded as nothing, whereby it seems clear that God
called him and Father Julian of Avila to the work;
Father Julian, however, had been with me ever since the
first monastery was founded. Our Lord must have been
pleased, for the sake of such companions, to prosper all
my undertakings. Their conversation on the journey
was about God, for the instruction of those who
travelled with us and who met us on the road, and thus
did they serve His Majesty in every way.

6. It is only right, my daughters, that those of you
who shall read the story of these foundations should
know how much you owe them, that, as they took so
much pains, having no interest of their own in the matter,
to obtain for you the blessings you possess of living in
these monasteries, you may commend them to our Lord,
so that they may derive some advantage from your
prayers; for if you knew the hardships they endured
night and day, and how toilsome were the journeys they
made, you would most willingly do so.

7. The vicar-general would not quit the church without leaving a constable at the door, I know not for what
purpose. It helped to frighten a little those who were
there: as for myself, I never cared much what might
happen after taking possession; all my fear is before.
I sent for certain persons, relatives of one of the sisters 'who was with me, chief people in the place, to speak to
the vicar-general and tell him that I had had the sanction
of the bishop. He knew that well enough, so he said
later; what he wanted was to have been told of it beforehand; that, I believe, would have been much worse for
us. At last they settled with him that he was to leave
us in possession of the monastery, but he would not let
us have the Most Holy Sacrament.

8. That gave us no concern; we remained there some
months till we bought a house," and with it, too, many
lawsuits. We had had one already with the Franciscan
friars for another which we bought close by; about
another house we had to go to law with the friars of the
order of our Lady of Mercy, and with the chapter, which
had a rent-charge on it, O Jesus, what it is to have to
contend against many minds ! When I thought everything was settled we had to begin again; it was not
enough to give them what they asked for â€” some other
inconvenience came at once to light; it seems nothing
when I speak of it, but it was much to endure.

[Note: The following nephew was Don Juan de Orosco y Covarrubias dc Leyva, afterwards
bishop of Girgenti and later of Guadix, where he died in 1610. Going
from the episcopal palace to the cathedral on the day S. Teresa took
possession, he saw the cross over the door of the house, and when he
heard it was a Carmelite monastery went in, and, after praying a while,
asked permission to say mass. It was granted, and after mass he asked
to see the Saint; she came with the sister Isabel of S. Dominic, and
before he could make any offer of his services she told him that God
had brought him to the house, and that he was bound to help her, for
she was a cousin of his aunt Dona Maria de Tapia. Don Juan helped
the monastery to the utmost of his power, heard the confessions of the
sisters, and for some time was himself their only chaplain. The vicargeneral did not spare even the nephew of the bishop when he found
fault with S. Teresa, and Ribera (iii. 2) says he inveighed bitterly against
him for saying mass In the chapel. Don Juan de Orosco narrates the
facts himself in a letter dated Guadix, 20th May 1606, and addressed to
the Father Alonso de Jesus Maria, general of the Barefooted Carmelites.
]

9. A nephew of the bishop ' did all he could for us â€”
he was prior and canon of the church; so also did the
licentiate Herrera, a very great servant of God. At last,
when we had paid money enough, everything was settled.
Our lawsuit with the friars of the order of Ransom
remained, and it was necessary for us to go with the
utmost secrecy to our house. When they saw us in
possession, which was a day or two before Michaelmas,
they thought it better to compromise the matter for a
sum of money. The greatest anxiety which these
troubles occasioned me was that it wanted only seven or
eight days to complete my three years in the Incarnation.
It pleased our Lord that everything should be so
well settled as to leave nothing in dispute, and two or
three days afterwards I went to the Incarnation. Blessed
for ever be His name who has always been so good to
me, and let all creatures praise Him ! Amen.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Treats Of The Foundation Of The Glorious S. Joseph Del
Salvador In Veas, On The Feast Of S. Matthias, In The
Year 1575

I. The Saint invited to Veas. â€” 2. She hesitates at first. â€” 3. The
visitor consents. â€” 4. Origin of the foundation. â€” 5. Dona Catalina
Godinez. â€” 6. Her conversion. â€” 7. Grace the free gift of God. â€”
8. Satan's rage at the conversion. â€” 9. Fury of Satan. â€” 10. Perseverance of Dona Catalina. â€” 11. Her austerities. â€” 12. Her
illnesses. â€” 13. Her trials. â€” 14. Her courage and confidence. â€”
15. Miraculously healed. â€” 16. Her great sufferings. â€” 17. Wished
to conceal the miracle. â€” 18. Received the last Sacraments twice.
â€” 19. The monastery founded. â€” 20. The two sisters take the
habit. â€” 21. A vision of Dona Catalina. â€” 22. And its fulfilment. â€”
23. Her great confidence in God. â€” 24. The two sisters become nuns.

At the time of which I have been speaking, when
they sent me from the Incarnation to Salamanca, there
came to me, when I was in the latter place, a messenger
from the town of Veas with letters from a lady there, the
parish priest, and other persons, all asking me to go
thither and found a monastery, for they had a house
ready, so that nothing was wanting but my going thither
to make the foundation.'

2. I made inquiries of the messenger. He told me
great things of the country, and justly so, for it is very
pleasant, and the climate is good. But when I considered
the many leagues that were between that place and this I
thought it a folly, especially as I must have an order from
the apostolic commissary, who disliked, or at least did
not like, my making any more foundations. I wished,
therefore, to say in reply that I could not, without telling
him anything further. Afterwards it struck me that, as
the commissary was then in Salamanca, it would not be
right to send such an answer without having his opinion,
because of the commandment I had received from the
most reverend our father-general, not to omit making a
foundation if occasion offered.

3. When he saw the letters he sent me word that he
did not think it right to give pain to the writers; that
he was edified by their devotion; that I was to write to
them and say that as soon as they should have obtained
the permission of the order- provision would be made for
the foundation. He added, also, that I need not trouble
myself â€” permission would not be given, for he had heard
of the knights by other ways, and people had not been
able for many years to obtain their consent; but I was to
send a friendly answer. I think of this sometimes, how,
when our Lord wills anything, though we will it not, it
happens without our knowledge that we become the means
of doing it; so it was now with the father master, Fray
Pedro Fernandez, the commissary;3 accordingly, when
the permission was obtained he could not withhold his
own, and the house was founded in that way.

4. The monastery of the blessed S. Joseph in the town
of Veas was founded on S. Matthias' day," in the year
1575. This was the way it began, to the honour and
glory of God. In the town dwelt Sancho Rodriguez de
Sandoval, a nobleman of ancient descent and wealthy.
He was married to a lady whose name is Dona Catalina
Godinez. Amono the children whom our Lord o-ave
them are two daughters â€” the eldest. Dona Catalina
Godinez; the younger. Dona Maria de Sandoval; they
are the founders of the monastery. The elder was fourteen years of age when our Lord called her unto His
service. Until then she was very far from giving up
the world: on the contrary, she thought so much of
herself that she looked upon every offer of marriage
which her father brought to her as not fitting for her.

5. One day, in an inner room beyond that in which
her father was, who had not yet risen, she happened to
read on a crucifix that was there the title on the upper
part of the cross, when in a moment, as she was
reading it, our Lord changed her heart. She had been
thinking of an offer of marriage made to her, which was
an exceedingly good one, and saying to herself, ' How
little satisfies my father provided I marry an eldest son !
while I intend that my family shall have its beginning in
me.' She had no wish to be married, for she thought it
a meanness to be subject to any one, neither did she know
whence her pride arose. Our Lord knew how to cure it,
blessed be His compassion !

6. Accordingly, while she was reading the title a light
seemed to have entered her soul, as the sun enters into a
dark room, whereby she saw the truth. In that light she
fixed her eyes on our Lord nailed to the cross shedding
His blood, and thought of the ill-treatment He received
and of His great humility, and then how differently she
was demeaning herself in her pride. She must have
spent some time thus, for our Lord threw her into a
trance, wherein His Majesty made her see deeply into
her own wretchedness and to wish that everybody saw
into it. He filled her with so great a desire of suffering
for God that she wished she could undergo all the
torments of the martyrs, giving her at the same time so
earnest a longing for humiliation in her humility, with a
loathing of self, that, if it had not been an offence against
God, she could have wished herself one of the most
abandoned of women, in order that everybody might
regard her with loathing; accordingly, she began to hate
herself, having most earnest desires for penance, which
she afterwards carried into act. She made a vow of
chastity and poverty on the spot, and wished so much to
be subject to others that she would have been glad if they
had taken her there to be a slave in the country of the
Moors.

7. All these virtues have been so lasting that it is
plain they were a supernatural gift of our Lord, as will
appear later, in order that all may praise Him. Blessed
for ever and ever be Thou, O my God, who in a moment
undoest a soul and then createst it anew ! What does it
mean, O Lord I should like now to repeat the
question of the apostles, who when Thou hadst healed the
blind man asked if his parents had sinned. I ask, Who
deserved so sovereign a grace ? It was not she, for the
thoughts from which Thou didst withdraw her, when
Thou gavest her that grace, are what I have described.
O Lord, how high are Thy judgments ! Thou knowest
what Thou doest, and I do not know what I am saying,
for Thy works and Thy judgments are beyond all
comprehension. Glory be unto Thee forever, who canst
do still greater things; for if it were not so what would
become of me ? But her mother must have had some
share in this, for, as she was a most devout Christian, it is
possible that Thou, full of compassion, must in Thy
goodness have granted her to see in this life so great a
virtue in her daughters. I think sometimes that Thou
bestowest like graces on those who love Thee, and art so
merciful unto them as to give them children in whom
they shall serve Thee.

8. While she was thus occupied she heard so loud a
noise overhead in the room that she thought the whole
place must be tumbling down. The sounds seemed to
descend to the ground in a corner of the room, and to
come towards her in the spot where she was standing.
She heard also loud roaring cries, which lasted for some
time: so strange were they that her father, who, as I have
just said, had not yet risen, was greatly alarmed and began
to quake with fear, and then, like a man beside himself,
having put on his dressing-gown, rushed into her room
sword in hand, and, pale with terror, asked her what the
noise came from. She answered him that she had seen
nothing. He looked into another room beyond, and
seeing nothing told her to 20 to her mother, whom he
asked not to leave her daughter alone, telling her what
he had heard.

9. This shows plainly enough what Satan must feel
when he sees a soul which he thinks his own rescued from
his hands. As he hates our welfare so much, I am not
surprised that when he beholds our merciful Lord
bestowing so many graces at once he should be alarmed,
and show his anger so plainly, especially if he sees that,
through the wealth of grace treasured up in that soul, he
is to lose others he looked on as his own. I am persuaded
myself that our Lord never grants a grace so great
without communicating it also to other persons besides.
She never spoke of this to anybody, but she had a
very strong desire to enter religion, and frequently
asked her parents for their consent; they would never
give it.

10. At the end of three years, during which she had
often asked their consent, seeing that they would never
give way, she dressed herself very simply on the feast of
S. Joseph. ' She told her mother, and her mother only,
whose consent to her becoming a nun could be more
easily had, but she would not venture to tell her father,
and so went to church trusting that, once seen in public
In that dress, she might not be made to change; and so
It came to pass. During those three years she used to set
aside certain hours for prayer, and to mortify herself in
every way she could, as our Lord taught her. She would
go into the courtyard, moisten her face, and then expose it
to the sun, in order that, being thereby disfigured, she
might escape from the offers of marriage with which she
was harassed still.

11. She was unwilling to command others, but, as she
had the charge of her father's household, she must give
orders to the women therein, for she could not help it:
that done, she would wait till they were asleep, and then
go and kiss their feet, distressed at being waited on by
those who were better than herself. As she was occupied
all day with her father and mother, she spent the whole
night, when she might have been asleep, in prayer, so
that very often she hardly slept at all; which seems
Impossible, were it not that it was all supernatural. Her
penances and disciplines were many, for she had no
director, and so told nobody of them. Among other
things she did was this: she once wore her father's coat
of mail next her flesh during: the whole of Lent. She
would retire for prayer Into a lonely place, where the
devil used to mock her In strange ways. Very often she
began to pray at ten o'clock at night, and did not rise
therefrom till it was day.

[Note: Dona Catalina, seeing that while her father lived It was impossible
for her to enter religion, prayed to God for either the means of entering
or the removal of her strong desires to leave the world. She then
heard a voice saying to her, ' Do not distress thyself; thy father will die
within two or three weeks. Bid him be ready.' She was very unwilling
to do this, but as the time was passing away she said to her father, in a
pleasant way, ' You are in better health, I think, than you have ever
been.' Don Sancho replied, ' Well, I never was better in all my life.'
Whereupon the daughter said, ' Then it is a sign that death is near, and
remember that in our family we always die in August. You should put
everything in order.' Don Sancho was so much struck by what his
child said that he set his affairs in order at once, made his preparations
for death, and on the third day God took him to Himself.]

12. She passed nearly four years in these practices,
when our Lord â€” for she had to render Him other and
higher services â€” began to send her most grievous and
painful sicknesses, such as a continual fever, with dropsy
and disease of the heart. He sent her also a cancer in the
breast, which was cut out. In short, her illnesses lasted
about seventeen years, and she was scarcely ever well.
After five years, during which God was thus merciful to
her, her father died; " and her sister, being fourteen
years old, though very fond of show, dressed herself
simply a year after her sister made the change, and began
also to give herself unto prayer, the mother encouraging
them both in their good desires and practices, and
allowing them to occupy themselves in an admirable work,
but foreign to their condition, that of teaching little girls
to work and read; not for any payment, but simply for
the opportunity thereby had of teaching them their
catechism and their prayers. A great good was wrought,
for many went to them, and the good habits in which
they were thus trained when quite young may be traced
in them at this day. This did not last long, for the
devil, vexed to see so much good done, persuaded the
parents that it was mean in them to allow their daughters
to be taught for nothing." This, together with illnesses
now beginning, made them give up that work.

13. Five years after the father's death, the mother also
died, and Dona Catalina, as her vocation had always
been that of a nun â€” only she could not obtain her father's
consent â€” wished to become one at once. Her kindred
advised her, as there was no monastery in Veas, that,
having means sufficient for a foundation, the sisters should
found a monastery in their own place, which would be a
greater service to our Lord. As the place belonged to a
commandery of the knights of S. James, a licence from
the council of the orders was necessary, and so she began
to make efforts to obtain it. It was so difficult to o-et
that four years went by in much labour and expense, and
nothing was done till a petition was drawn up and presented to the king. The difficulty being so great, it came
to pass that her kindred told her it was folly to persist,
and would have her give up her plan; moreover, as she
was almost always in her bed, suffering so much, as I
said before, they said that into no monastery could she
be received as a nun.

[Note: This sarcasm of the Saint is expressive, and hits oft the stupidity of
Spaniards in her day. It is likely enough that there was no school
there for little girls. Two young ladies of noble birth give themselves
up out of charity to the gratuitous education of children; but people
calling themselves gentlemen find that their daughters must not mix with
the children of the poor, nor be educated for nothing, as they were.
They would rather have them ignorant. That the country is behindhand has been laid to the charge of the religious orders. Would it not
have been better to lay the fault at the door of vanity and easygoingness,
the natural vices of the country?]

14. Her answer was, that it within a month our Lord
gave her again her health it would be a sign to them that
He was pleased with her plan, and she would herself go
to court to bring it about. When she said this she had
been for six months without leaving her bed, and for
eight months had been scarcely able to move herself in it.
At this time she had been for eight years in a continual
fever, with consumption and dropsy; she was also wasted
by an inflammation of the liver, which was so violent that
the burning heat of it was felt through the bedclothes,
and singed her shirts. It seems incredible, but I heard
so myself from the physician of whom I made inquiries
about the illnesses she then had, and at which he was
greatly amazed. She had also rheumatic gout and
sciatica.

15. On the vigil of S. Sebastian, which was a Saturday,
our Lord restored her to health so completely that she
could not hide the fact, that the miracle might not become
known. Her account is that at the moment our Lord
was about to heal her she had an inward quaking, which
made her sister think she was dying; she herself was
conscious of some very great change in her body, and of
another in her soul; she felt so well. She had now a
greater joy in her health, because it enabled her to prosecute the affair of the monastery, than she had had in
suffering, for from the very first when God called her she
so hated herself that she did not regard her sufferings.
She says that her desire to suffer was so strong that she
used to pray God with her whole heart to try her in all
manner of suffering.

16. His Majesty did not fail to fulfil her desire, for
in eight years she was bled more than five hundred times,
and cupped so often besides that the marks were still to
be seen in her flesh. Sometimes salt was applied, because
one of the physicians said it was good for drawing out
the poisonous humours which caused the pain in her side:
this she underwent more than twenty times. What is
more wonderful still is this: â€” whenever the physician
told her that this remedy was to be had recourse to, she
used to long for the coming of the time when it was to
be used, without any fear whatever, and she herself
encouraged the physicians when they cauterised the cancer,
which was often done, and on other occasions when such
violent means were used. She says that what made her
wish for suffering was the desire to know if those longings
she had to be a martyr were real.

17. When she found herself suddenly well she spoke
to her confessor and physician about removing into another
place, that they might be able to say that a change of
residence had done it. They refused: so far from it,
the physicians published it abroad, for they looked on
her state as incurable, because the blood that issued from
her mouth was so corrupt that they said it was the lungs
themselves. She continued three days in bed, and would
not venture to leave it, lest her restoration to health
should become known; but, as she could not hide it any
more than she was able to hide her sickness, it was of
little service to her. She told me that, one day in the
month of August previously, she begged our Lord either
to take from her the great desire she had to be a nun
and found a monastery, or to furnish her with the means
of accomplishing that desire, and that she was completely assured that she would be well in time to go to
the court in Lent for the licence.

18. She says too that, though her ailments were at that
time much more grievous to bear, she never ceased to
hope that our Lord would grant her that grace. And,
though she received the Sacrament of the last anointing twice â€” once in such imminent peril that the physician
said there was not time enough to send for the Holy Oil,
and that she would be dead before it could be brought
to her â€” she never abandoned her trust in our Lord, being
certain that she was to be a nun. I do not mean that
she was anointed twice between August and the feast of
S. Sebastian â€” it was before that time. When her brothers
and kindred saw the goodness of our Lord to her, and
the miracle He wrought in the sudden restoration of her
health, they would not venture to hinder her journey,
though they regarded it as a folly. She was three months
at the court, and her request was in the end refused.
She then presented her petition to the king, who, when
he saw it related to the barefooted nuns of Carmel, ordered
it to be granted forthwith.'

19. When the monastery came to be founded it was
plain that she had treated the matter with God, for the
superiors, though so far away, and the revenue so scanty,
were ready to accept it. What His Majesty wills must
be done without fail. Accordingly the nuns arrived in
the beginning of Lent, 1575; the people came forth in
procession to receive them with solemn rejoicings.
There was great joy everywhere; even the little
children showed it to be a work pleasing to our Lord.
The monastery, under the invocation of S, Joseph of
the Redeemer, was founded in Lent on the feast of
S. Mathias.

[Note: On Thursday after the first Sunday in Lent. The poverty of this
house was so great that in 1603 the superiors of the order resolved to
break it up, and, in order to make the dispersion of the nuns the more
easy to the other houses, issued an order, In the expectation that the elder
nuns would die, that no more novices should be admitted, but the inhabitants of the town admonished by a vision of S. Teresa offered
resistance. Thus it subsisted for many years, but there was no death
among the nuns The superiors at last recalled the order about novices,
and on the very day that recall was known in the monastery postulants
came in, and the old nuns began to die. (Fray Antonio of S. Joseph.)
The nuns were dispersed in the civil wars, and the convent became
suppressed, the only foundation of S. Teresa that suffered such a fate.
But it was restored in 1899. Ocuvres, iv. 364. ]

20. On the same day the two sisters, to their great joy,
received the habit. The health of Dona Catalina
improved still. Her humility, obedience, and desire to
be thought nothing of show plainly how real were her
good desires for the service of our Lord. Unto Him be
glory for ever and ever !

21. The sister told me, among other things, that, about
twenty years before, she went to rest one night anxious
to find the most perfect order in the world, that she
might become a nun in it; and that, as she thinks, she
began to dream she was walking on a very steep and
narrow path in the utmost danger of falling down a
precipice, when she saw a barefooted friar, who said to
her, ' Sister, come with me.' On seeing Fray Juan de la
Miseria, a lay brother of the order, who came to Veas
when I was there, she said that he seemed to be the very
person she had seen. The friar took her to a house
wherein were a great many nuns, but there was no light
in it beyond that given by the lighted candles which the
nuns carried in their hands. She asked them to tell her
what order it was; all kept silence, and, lifting up their
veils, showed countenances cheerful and smiling. She
assures me that she then saw the faces of the very sisters
she has seen here, and that the prioress took her by the
hand and said to her, ' Child, I want you here,' and
showed her the constitutions and the rule. When
she awoke from her dream she was very joyous, for
it seemed to her that she had been in heaven, and wrote
down what she remembered of the rule. For a long
time she said nothing of this to her confessor or to
anybody else, and nobody could tell her what order
that was.

22. A father of the society, came to the place who
knew her wishes; she showed him the paper, saying that
if she could find that order she should be happy, for she
would enter it at once. The father knew our monasteries,
and so he told her that it was the rule of the order of our
Lady of Carmel; he did not, however, say this clearly
in as many words so as to make her understand, but
only that it was the rule of the monasteries I was
founding; and thus it came about that she sent me a
messenger, as I said before. When my answer was
received she was so ill that her confessor told her
she must be quiet, for if she were in the monastery
they would send her away; it was therefore very
unlikely they would receive her in her present state.
She was very much distressed at this, and, turning to
our Lord in great earnestness, said, ' O my Lord and
my God, I know by faith that Thou canst do all things;
then, O life of my soul, either take away from me these
desires or give to me the means of carrying them into
effect.'

23. This she said in great truthfulness, beseeching our
Lady, by the sorrow she felt when she looked on our
Lord dead in her arms, to intercede for her. She heard
a voice within herself saying, ' Believe and hope: I am
almighty: thou shalt have thy health; for to Him who
is able to hinder thee from dying of so many diseases, all
of them in themselves deadly, it is more easy to take them
away.' These words, she says, gave her such strength
and confidence that she could not doubt of the fulfilment
of her desire, though her sufferings became much more
grievous until our Lord restored her to health, as I have
already said. These things certainly seemed incredible,
and, if I had not learnt them of her physician, of those of
her household, and others, 1 should not have been
disinclined to think â€” for I am so wicked â€” that there was
some exaggeration in the story.

24. Although delicate, her health is now such that she
can keep the rule, and her constitution is good; she is
exceedingly cheerful, and in every way, as I said before,
so humble that we all praise our Lord for it. The two
sisters gave all they possessed to the order without any
conditions whatever, and if they should not be received as
nuns they required no compensation. Her detachment
from kindred and her native place is great, and she has
even a strong desire to go far away, and is very importunate
on this point with her superiors; yet so great is her
obedience that she abides there in a certain contentment.
It was under obedience that she received the veil, for
there was no persuading her to be a choir nun â€” she
would be a lay sister â€” till I wrote to her, giving her many
reasons, and finding fault with her for having a will of her
own instead of yielding to the father provincial. I told
her that this was not the way to increase her merit, with
much beside, treating her somewhat sharply. But it is
her greatest joy to be thus spoken to, and in this way she
was won over very much against her will. I know of
nothing about this soul that is not pleasing unto God, and
she is so to all. May it please His Majesty to protect
her with His arm, and increase her goodness, and the
grace He has given her, to His own further service and
honour ! Amen."

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Treats Of The Foundation Of The Monastery Of The Glorious
S. Joseph Of Carmel In The City Of Seville. The First Mass
Said On The Feast Of The Most Holy Trinity, 1575

I. The Saint becomes acquainted with Fray Jerome of the Mother of
God. â€” 2. His early education. â€” 3. Fray Juan of Jesus. â€”
4. Occasion of Fray Jerome's conversion. â€” 5. His devotion to our
Lady. â€” 6. Who protected him. â€” 7. The prioress of Pastrana
suggests to him to become a friar. â€” 8. The nuns pray for his
vocation. â€” 9. And obtain it. â€” 10. Trials of the novitiate. â€”
II. Temptation to quit the Order. â€” 12. The great help he was
to the Saint. â€” 13. Difficulties about the monasteries of the friars.

When I was staying in the town of Veas, waiting for
the permission of the council of the orders for the
foundation in Caravaca, there came to see me a father of
our order, a barefooted friar, by name the master FrayJerome of the Mother of God Gratian, who, living in
Alcala a few years before, had taken our habit. He was
a man of great learning, understanding, and modesty,
united with great goodness throughout his life, and our
Lady seems to have chosen him for the furtherance of this
order under the primitive rule when he was in Alcala,
very far from taking our habit, though not from being a
religious, for, though his parents had other views about
him because of the kind's favour and his great abilities, he
was far otherwise minded himself.

[Note: The final arrangements for the foundation in Veas were made when
the Saint was prioress of her own house in Avila; the three years of her
priorate in her old house, the monastery of the Incarnation, being ended
6th October 1574. She was in the monastery of Valladolid at
Christmas, but returned to Avila after visiting her sisters at Medina del
Campo early in the year 1575. (See below, ch. xxvii. 5). Then,
leaving Avila for Veas, she went through Toledo, and took with her
from the house there Mary, of S. Joseph and Isabel of S. Francis,
afterwards prioress in Lisbon and Seville. She also sent for Anne of
Jesus from Salamanca. From Toledo she went to Malagon, and from
that monastery took with her Mary of the Visitation, Isabel of S. Jerome,
Leonor of S. Gabriel, Beatrix of S. Michael, Anne of S. Michael and
Mary of the Holy Ghost. Anne of Jesus was made prioress, and the
sub-prioress was Mary of the Visitation. ]

2. From the time he began his studies his father
wished him to apply himself to the study of the laws: he,
though very young, felt so much on the subject that he
prevailed on his father by dint of tears, to let him learn
theology. When he had taken his doctor's degree he
wished to enter the Society of Jesus, and was accepted,
but, for some reason or other, was required to wait a few
days. He told me that all his worldly ease was a torture
to him, for he did not think that was the right road to
heaven; and he always kept certain hours of prayer, and
was most recollected and modest.

3. At this time a great friend of his, Fray Juan of
Jesus, also a doctor, became a friar of our order in the
monastery of Pastrana. I know not if it was a letter he
wrote to him on the greatness and antiquity of our order,
or something else, that first moved him; for Gratian took
great pleasure in learning everything about the order and
in consulting weighty authors thereupon, and frequently
â€” so he says â€” had scruples about neglecting his other
studies, not being able to give up this, spending therein
even his hours of recreation. Oh, the wisdom and
power of God ! how helpless we are when we would
thwart His will. Our Lord saw how necessary for the
work He had begun was a man like this. Often do I
praise Him for being so gracious unto us, for if I had
anxiously prayed to His Majesty for a person able to
arrange everything for our order when it began I could
not have asked for such an one as His Majesty has given
us. May He be blessed for ever !

[Note: Fray Juan of Jesus was born in 1543, in the town of Sanahuja, in
the diocese of Urgel, at the foot of the Pyrenees, in Catalonia. His
father was Pedro Bullon, and his mother Isabel Roca, both most devout
Christians. Fray Juan was sent to Barcelona, where he made all his
studies, and there was made doctor in theology. He obtained a benefice
and was ordained priest. Some time after he went to Alcala, and there
saw how empty were all learned distinctions. One day, in the
monastery founded by Maria of Jesus (Life, ch. xxxvi. 29), he heard
Jerome Gratian, then a secular priest, preach a sermon in which he
spoke of the antiquity of the order, and of the many saints it had given
to the church of God. He went thence to Pastrana, for the reputation
of the monastery had filled the university of Alcala, and in the beginning
of the year 1573 made his profession (Reforma, bk. iv. ch. xxxix. 6, 7).
He distinguished himself by great severity, having successively filled
many and high offices he fell at last into disgrace owing to the discovery
of his design of joining the Italian branch of the Discalced Carmelites.
He died at Barcelona in 1614. ]

4. He was very far from thinking of taking our habit
when he was asked to go to Pastrana to make arrangements
with the prioress of the monastery of our order, not then
removed thence, about the reception of a nun. Oh, the
ways of His divine Majesty ! If he had made up his
mind to leave Alcala for the purpose of taking the habit
he would probably have found so many to dissuade him
that he might never have taken it. But the Virgin, our
Lady, to whom he is extremely devout, would reward
him by giving him her habit, and so I think that she
interceded with God for him, and obtained for him that
grace. The cause even of his taking the habit, and of
his being so devoted to the order, was this glorious Virgin,
who would not that one who longed so earnestly to serve
her should be without the means of doing so; for she is
wont to help those who wish to place themselves under
her protection.

5. As a boy in Madrid he used often to go to an image
of our Lady to which he had a great devotion â€” where it
was I do not remember. He used to address her as his
love, and it was the image he most frequently visiting.
She must have obtained from her Son for him that purity
in which he always lived. He says that he saw her eyes
sometimes â€” so he thought â€” filled with tears over the
many offences committed against her Son. That made him
very eager and earnest for the salvation of souls, and gave
him a sense of pain whenever he saw people sin against
God, So greatly is he under the dominion of this desire
for the salvation of souls that he regards all troubles as
nothing if he thinks he can do any good thereby. I have
seen this to be true in the many troubles he has
undergone.

6. The Virgin then brought him to Pastrana, he being
all the while under a mistake, for he thought he was
going thither to obtain the habit for a nun, and God was
leading him thither to take it himself. Oh, the secrets
of God ! How, without our seeking. He goes about
preparing us for His graces, and how He rewarded this
soul for the good works it had done, for the good
example it had always given, and for its earnest desire to
serve His glorious Mother ! for His Majesty must
ever repay this desire with exceeding great rewards.

7. Arrived in Pastrana, he went to speak to the
prioress about the reception of the nun who was to take
the habit, and it seems that the prioress told him to pray
to our Lord that he might enter the order himself. She
saw how pleasing was his address â€” and it is so much so
that for the most part those who converse with him come
to love him; it is a grace from our Lord, and he is
extremely beloved therefore by all his subjects, both
friars and nuns; for, though he overlooks no fault â€”
herein he is very exact regarding the prosperity of the
order â€” he does it all with such winning sweetness that
no one is able to complain of him.

8. It was with the prioress as with everybody else â€”
she felt an immense desire that he should enter the order,
spoke of it to her sisters, and told them all to consider it
as of great importance to them, for there were then very
few or scarcely any like him, and to pray to our Lord
not to let him go away except in the habit. This prioress
is a very great servant of God, and I believe His
Majesty would have listened to her prayers alone: what,
then, must He have done to the prayers of the holy
sisters who were there ? Every one of them took the
matter into her own especial care, and made continual
supplications to His Majesty in fasting, disciplines, and
prayer; and in the end He was pleased to be gracious
unto us.

9. When Father Gratian went to the monastery of
the friars, and beheld so much devotion and good will
in the service of our Lord, and above all that this was
the order of His glorious Mother, whom he so earnestly
desired to serve, his heart began to be moved, and he
had no wish to return to the world, though Satan
suggested many difficulties, particularly the distress of
his father and mother, who loved him much, and relied
much on him to provide for their children. They had
many sons and daughters. He, casting that care upon
God, for whom he was leaving everything, determined to
become the subject of the Virgin, and put on her habit;
and so they gave it to him, to the great joy of everybody,
especially of the nuns and the prioress, who gave earnest
thanks to our Lord, thinking that God had done this for
them in answer to their prayers,

10. During the year of probation he was as humble
as the least of the novices. His goodness was once
tried in a special way: in the absence of the prior, a
young and unlearned friar took his place as the next
elder, but whose abilities were very poor, and who had
no discretion in government; he was also without
experience, for he had but lately entered. The way he
ruled them and the mortifications he made them undergo were so severe that each time I think of it I am
astonished that they were able to bear it, especially such
persons as were there; and they needed the spirit which
God gave them to endure it. It was found out afterwards that this friar was very subject to melancholy, and
wherever he may be, even as a subject, it is a trial to live
with him; what then must it have been when he had to
govern others ? His melancholy temper has great
mastery over him, and yet he is a good religious, and
God sometimes allows the mistake to be made of putting
persons of this kind in authority for the perfecting of
the virtue of obedience in those He loves,

[Note: Fray Baltasar of Jesus, prior of Pastrana, having gone to Madrid,
to assist in the erection of a convent at the royal court for the residence
of the procurator of the Order, and the friars whom business called to
Madrid, the superior, Fray Angel of S. Gabriel, took over the government of the house and the direction of the novices. He introduced
new and unheard of mortifications by which he made the convent the
laughing-stock of the public and disturbed the peace and tranquillity of
the community. He was an earnest, fiery man of strong will, and his
superiors were not able to withstand him, still less to control him. S.
John of the Cross was sent to restore order, his first act being to remove
the superior. S. Teresa, while approving of this step, thought it wise
to consult Fray Domingo Banez, who assured her in a letter still extant
that the conduct of the master of novices had been most rash.]

II. It must have been so in this case, for God save
to the father Fray Jerome of the Mother of God, who
merited therein, the most clear light in the matter of
obedience for the instruction of his subjects, having
made himself so good a beginning in the practice thereof.
And, that he might not be without experience in everything necessary for us, he was subject to most distressing
temptations for three months preceding his profession;
but he, as one who had to be a skillful leader of the
Virgin's children, resisted them so well that when Satan
was most urgent with him to leave the order, he defended
himself by making a promise never to leave it, and to
take the vows. He gave me a certain work he had
written in the midst of these heavy temptations; it filled
me with great devotion, and plainly shows what courage
our Lord had given him.'

12. It may seem absurd that he should have told me
much about his soul: our Lord, perhaps, would have it
so in order that 1 might write of it here, to show forth His
praise in His creatures, for I know that he never revealed
so much to his confessor or to anyone else. Now and
then there were reasons for it: he thought that I, with
my many years, and because of things he had heard of
me, might have some experience in such matters. He
told me these things and others which I shall not write
of, that I may not be tedious, when we were conversing
about other matters. I have laid great constraint upon
myself herein, lest 1 should give him pain if what I am
writing should ever fall into his hands. I am not able
nor did I think it right â€” for this writing, if ever he should
see it, will not be shown him for a long time â€” to refrain
from speaking of one who has rendered such great
services in the renewal of the primitive rule; for, though
he was not the first to make a beginning, he came in due
time, for I should have been occasionally sorry that the
reform had been begun if my trust in the mercy of God
had not been so great.

13. I am speaking of the houses of the friars, for those
of the nuns have, by the goodness of God, prospered
even until now, and those of the friars have not failed;
but they had in them an element of rapid decline because,
not forming a province by themselves, they were governed
by the fathers of the mitigated rule. Those who could
have governed them had no authority, such as Fray
Antonio of Jesus," who was the first to make a beginning;
nor had they any constitutions given them by the most
reverend the father general.' In every house they did
as they pleased. Before the constitutions were given
them, and before they had a settled government of their
own, there was trouble enough, some of them being for
this and others for that. I was often in great distress
about them. Our Lord sent the father-master Fray
Jerome of the Mother of God to our relief, for he was
made commissary apostolic, and had to rule and govern
both the friars and the nuns of the barefooted Carmelites.
He made the constitutions of the friars, we had ours
already from the most reverend our father-general, and
thus it was that he made none for us, only for them, in
virtue of his apostolic authority and of the good gifts, as
I said before, which our Lord had given him. The first
time he made his visitation he ordered everything so
wisely and so well, thereby showing plainly that His
Divine Majesty was keeping him, and that our Lady had
chosen him to be a succour of her order; and I pray her
earnestly to obtain from her Son help for him always,
and the grace to advance more and more in His service.
Amen.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

The Foundation Of S. Joseph Of Carmel In The City
Of Seville

I. The Saint's joy in Fray Jerome's visit. â€” 2. He is made visitor of
the Order. â€” 3. The Saint leaves Veas for Seville. â€” 4. Ill on the
road. â€” 5. Suffering from fever. â€” 6. Risk in crossing a river. â€”
7. Difficulty of entering Cordova. â€” 8. Church full of people. â€”
9. Difficulties in Seville. â€” 10. More difficulties. â€” II. Destitute
condition of the nuns. â€” 12. The Saint nearly leaves Seville. â€”
13. But waits. â€” 14. The archbishop relents.

When the father-master Fray Jerome Gratian came
to see me in Veas as I have just said, we had never
met before, though I had wished it much; letters, however, had occasionally passed between us. I rejoiced
extremely when I heard he was in town, for I was
longing to see him because of the good accounts I had
had of him; but I rejoiced still more when I had begun to
converse with him, for he pleased me so much that I
did not think that they who had spoken so highly of
him really knew him at all. I was in great trouble at
the time, but when I saw him our Lord seemed to show
me all the good he was to do for us, and therefore
during those days I felt such exceeding comfort and
happiness that I was in truth astonished at myself. At
that time, however, his authority did not reach beyond
Andalucia, but when he was in Veas the nuncio sent
for him, and then gave him jurisdiction over the barefooted friars and nuns of the province of Castille. My
spirit so exulted in this that during those days I could
not thank our Lord enough, and I had no wish to
do anything else.

[Note:The nuncio, Monsignor Ormaneto, in 1575 made Fray Jerome
superior of the Carmelites in Spain, and accordingly in his visitation in
that year the constitutions were made which Fray Jerome gave to the friars
to observe. The constitutions of the nuns had been already drawn up
by S. Teresa, by authority given her by the Sovereign Pontiff, Pius IV,
who had approved of them as did also the General. She conceals the
fact that she had written them herself, and says most truly that the later
monasteries received them as the constitutions of the general.
]

[Note: Fray Jerome made his profession 28th March 1573, and on the
4th of August following was created visitor of Andalucia by Fray Baltasar
of Jesus, prior of Pastrana, acting under the authority of Fray Francis de
Vargas, Dominican and apostolic visitor of the Carmelites in Andalucia.
Notwithstanding his office, he would not leave his monastery of Pastrana
without the permission of his superiors, and the visitor apostolic Fray
Pedro Fernandez would not grant it. Fray Mariano (see ch. xvii. 5)
therefore applied to Fray Angel de Salazar, the provincial, for leave
to go to Seville on business which he had not settled when he
took the habit. He applied also for leave to be accompanied by any
father he might name. Nothing was said of the real reason, and Fray
Jerome's name was not uttered. The provincial gave the leave
required. Fray Mariano chose Fray Jerome to be his companion, and
the two friars left Castille for Andalucia. In Toledo, whither they
went to see Fray Antonio of Jesus, they were overtaken by a mandate
of the general of the order, commanding Fray Mariano to become a
priest; and he, against his will, was then made sub-deacon on Ember
Saturday, in September. They found Fray Francis de Vargas in his
monastery of Granada, being then provincial of his order, who received
them with great joy, and gave all his powers to Fray Jerome. The
Carmelite provincial, having heard of the ordination of Fray Mariano, and
having some suspicion that the journey was not meant only for his private
affairs, recalled the two friars to Pastrana. They replied that they
were ready to obey, but were unable, because under the obedience of
Fray Francis de Vargas, the apostolic visitor. They then hastened
to Seville, where Fray Jerome remained (not now subject to
the provincial) till he was sent for to Madrid, because of the storm
that began to threaten the reform. He preached in Seville during
Lent, 1575, and then, leaving the city, arrived in Veas in April,
while the Saint was still there.]

2. At this time they obtained the licence for making
a foundation in Caravaca, but it was not such as I
required for my purpose; and it became, therefore,
necessary for them to send again to the court, for I wrote
to the foundress that the foundation would be made
only on certain conditions, not therein expressed; and
thus it became necessary to apply to the court again.
It was very inconvenient for me to remain there so long,
and I wished to return to Castille; but, as the Father
Fray Jerome, to whom the monastery was now subject â€”
for he was commissary over the whole province of
Castille " â€” was there at the time, and as I could do
nothing without his consent, I communicated on the
subject with him. He thought that if I were once gone
there would be an end of the foundation of Caravaca,
and also that it would be greatly for the service of God
to found a house In Seville, which to him seemed very easy, because persons in authority there, and willing to
give him a house at once, had asked it of him." The
archbishop of Seville, too, was so well disposed towards
the order that he believed he would be greatly pleased,
and accordingly it was agreed that the prioress and the nuns
whom I was to take to Caravaca should go to Seville.
I had always resolutely refrained, for certain reasons,
from making any foundations in Andalucia, and if I had
known when I went thither that Veas was in the province
of Andalucia 1 should not have gone at all. Though
the place is not in Andalucia, I think it is four or five
leagues distant from the boundaries of that country: it is,
however, in the province, and that is the source of the
mistake. But when I saw that it was the will of my
superior yielded at once, for our Lord has given me
the grace to think that my superiors are always in the
right. Yet I had made up my mind to found a house
elsewhere, and had some very grave reasons for not
going to Seville.

3. Preparations for the journey were made at once,
for the heat was beginning. The commissary, father
Gratian, went to the nuncio, who had sent for him, and
we to Seville with my good companions father Julian
of Avila, Antonio Gaytan, and a barefooted friar." We
travelled in carriages well covered, for that is ever our
way of travelling, and when we came to an inn we took
a room, good or bad as it might be, at the door of which
a sister received what we had need of, and even those
who travelled with us never entered it. We made all
haste we could, yet we reached Seville only on the
Thursday" before the feast of the Most Holy Trinity,
having suffered on the road from the heat, which was
very great; for, though we did not travel on the holy
days, I must tell you, my sisters, that, as the sun in
its strength struck the carriages, to go into them was
like going into Purgatory. Sometimes by thinking of
hell, at other times that we were doing and suffering
something for God, the sisters travelled in great cheerfulness and joy, for the six sisters who were with me had
such courage that I think 1 could have ventured to go
with them into the country of the Turks, and that they
would have been so brave as to do so; or, to speak more
correctly, that our Lord would have made them brave
enough to suffer for Him, for that was their desire and
their conversation, being exceedingly given to prayer and
mortification, for, as they were to live so far away, I
took care they should be such as were fitted for the
work; and all my care was necessary, so great were the
troubles that arose, some of which, and they were the
heaviest, I will not speak of, because it might touch
certain persons.

4. One day before Pentecost God sent them a very
heavy cross, which was my falling into a very violent fever.
They called upon God, and that, I believe, was the cause
of its going no further, for I never had before in my
whole life a fever of that kind that did not become much
worse. It was so violent that I seem to have fallen into
a lethargy, so unconscious was I. They threw water over
my face, but it was so warm, because of the heat, that it
gave me hardly any refreshment at all. 1 cannot help
telling you of the poor lodging we had in this our need;
they gave us a small room like a shed, which had no
window, into which the sun poured whenever the door
was opened. You must remember that the heat there is
not like that of Castille, being much more oppressive.

5. They laid me on a bed, but as it was so uneven
being high on one side and low on the other I would have
preferred being laid on the floor. I could not lie on it,
for it seemed as if made of sharp stones. What
illness is ! in health everything is easy to bear. At last
I thought it best to rise and go on, for it seemed to me
easier to bear the heat of the sun in the open country
than in that little room. Oh, those poor souls in hell !
for them there is no change; for that seems a relief, even
if it be from one suffering to another. It has happened
to me to have a very violent pain in one side, and to find
an apparent relief in changing my place, though I had
another pain as violent in the other: it was so now. I
was not at all distressed, so far as I remember, at my
illness; the sisters felt it much more than I did. It was
the good pleasure of our Lord that its extreme violence
did not last more than one day.

6. A little before, I do not know if it was two days,
something else befell us that placed us in no slight
danger when crossing the Guadalquivir in a boat.' When
they had to ferry the carriages across they could not keep
close to the rope, and they had therefore to make a tack
in the river, although in tacking also the rope was of some
help to them; however, it happened that those who held
the rope either let it go or lost it, I do not know which,
and the boat went off" with the carriages away from the
rope and without oars, I was more concerned for the
distress of the ferryman than about the danger; we began
to pray, and the boatmen to shout. A nobleman in a
neighbouring castle was looking on, and pitying our condition, sent people to our succour, for at that moment
we had not yet lost the rope, and our brethren with all
their might were holding on to it; the force of the current,
however, was too much for them, and some of them were
even thrown down. A little boy of the ferryman, whom
I shall never forget, stirred up my devotion exceedingly,
he must have been, I think, about ten or eleven years old;
his distress at the sight of his father in trouble was such
as to make me give praise to our Lord. But, as His
Majesty ever tempers our trials with His compassion, so
it was at this time, for the boat struck on a sandbank, on
one side of which the water was shallow, whereby they
could come to our relief. We should have found it very
hard to recover our road, because it was now night, if
one who had come from the castle had not become our
guide. I did not intend to speak of these things, which
are of little importance, for I have said enough oi the
difficulties we met in our journeys â€” I have been pressed
much to speak more at length.

7. A trouble far greater than those I have mentioned
befell us on the last day of Whitsuntide." We hurried
on so as to reach Cordova early in the morning, that we
might hear mass unseen by anybody. We were directed
to go for greater retirement to a church on the other
side of the bridge. When we were ready to cross we
were without the permission necessary for carriages which
only the governor could give, and as people were not
yet up two hours passed away before it was obtained,
and a great crowd came about us to find out who were
the travellers. We did not care much about this, for
as we were perfectly concealed they could not see us.

When permission to cross was given the carriages could
not pass through the gate of the bridge; it was found
necessary to use the saw, or something of that kind, I
know not what, and that occasioned the waste of more
time.

8. At last when we reached the church in which father
Julian of Avila was to say mass we found it full of
people, for it was dedicated to the Holy Ghost; it was
a great solemnity, and a sermon was preached; of this
we knew nothing. When I saw it all I was greatly
distressed, and thought it would have been better for
us to have gone on without hearing mass than be in the
midst of so much confusion. Father Julian of Avila
did not think so, and as he was a theologian we had
all of us to yield to his opinion; all the others who
were with me would perhaps have followed mine, and
it would have been very wrong. I do not know, however, that I should have trusted to my own opinion
alone. We alighted close to the church; though nobody
could see our faces, for we always wore our large veils, it
was enough to disturb everybody to see us in them, and in
our white mantles of coarse cloth which we wear, and in our
sandals of hemp: so it happened. The surprise, indeed,
was great for me and for everybody: as for myself, it
must have taken away my fever altogether. As we
were entering the church a good man came up to me,
and made a passage for us through the crowd. I begged
him to take us to one of the chapels;' he did so, and
closed it upon us, nor did he leave us before he had
led us out of the church again. A few days later he
came to Seville, and said to a father of our order that
he thought that because of the service he had rendered
us God had been very good to him, for a large estate,
of which he had no expectation, had come into his
possession. I tell you, my daughters, that these were
some of the worst moments I ever passed, though you
may perhaps think nothing of it, for the people were in
confusion as if bulls had broken in among them. I
therefore did not wait for the usual hour for quitting
that place, though there was no place near where we
could take our rest at noon: we found it under a
bridge.'

9. On reaching the house in Seville,' which the
father Fray Mariano had hired for us â€” he had had
directions to do so â€” I thought everything was done;
for, as I said before,' the archbishop was very favourable to the barefooted Carmelites, and had occasionally
written to myself showing me great affection, it was not
enough however to spare me much suffering, for so God
did will it. The archbishop is a great enemy of all
monasteries of nuns founded in poverty, and he has his
reasons. The mischief, or, to speak more correctly, the
good, so far as this foundation is concerned, lay in silence
on this point; for if they had told him all before I had
set out on my journey I am certain he never would have
given his consent. But the father commissary and
father Mariano, most fully persuaded that he would give
it, that my coming would be a very great pleasure to him,
and that they were doing him a very great service in
bringing me, said nothing to him beforehand, and as 1
was saying, they might have committed a great mistake
if they had told him, thinking they were doing right;
for in founding the other monasteries the first thing I
sought was the sanction of the ordinary, according to the
decree of the council.' Here we not only took it for
granted but looked on the monastery as a great service
done to the archbishop, as indeed it was, and as he
acknowledged afterwards; only it was our Lord's good
pleasure that no foundation should be made without
great suffering for me, some in one way, some in another.

10. Having reached the house hired for us, as I said
before, I meant to take possession at once, as I was in the
habit of doing, that we might say the divine office, but
father Mariano â€” it was he who was there â€” began to
suggest delay, for he, to avoid giving me pain, would not
tell me everything. But, as his reasons were insufficient,
I saw where the difficulty lay â€” no permission had been
given; and so he asked me to allow the monastery to be
endowed, or something of that kind; but I do not remember what it was. At last he told me that the archbishop was not disposed to sanction a monastery of nuns â€”
that he had never sanctioned one since he became
archbishop, nor even during the many years he had been
here and in Cordova, great servant of God as he is; still
less would he sanction a monastery founded in poverty,

11. This was nothing else but saying that the monastery
was not to be founded at all. In the first place, it would
have been very sad for me to do this in the city of
Seville; I might, however, have done it in those parts
of the country where I had founded monasteries endowed;
it was in small villages where they must have been so
founded, or not at all, because there were no other means
of sustaining them. In the next place, we had but one
coin remaining after paying the expenses of the journey,
and we had brought nothing with us except that which
we had on, a tunic or two and a coif, and what served as
a covering for us in the carriages; and then to send back
those who had come with us we should have had to
borrow money, Antonio Gaytan had a friend there, and
he lent us some, and father Mariano begged some for
furnishing the house; we had no house of our own, and
thus the foundation seemed impossible.

12. The archbishop allowed us, but it must have been
after urgent pressing on the part of Mariano, to have mass
said on the feast of the Most Holy Trinity, and that
was the first. He sent a message to the effect that no
bell was to be rung or even set up, but that was done
already. We continued thus for a fortnight, and I know
I had made up my mind, but for the father-commissary
and father Mariano, to go back with my nuns, with very
little regret, to Veas, to make the foundation in Caravaca.
I had much more to bear with during those days â€” how
long it was I know not, for I do not remember â€” I think
it was more than a month â€” for our immediate departure
would have been less intolerable, seeing that the existence
of the monastery had been made known already. Father
Mariano would never let me write to the archbishop, but
he won him over by degrees himself, and by the help of
letters of the father-commissary from Madrid.

13. One thing set me at case from much scruple; this
was that mass had been said with the archbishop's leave,
and we always said our office in choir. He sent some
people to visit me, and to tell me that he would come
soon himself. It was one of his chaplains whom he had
sent to say the first mass. I saw clearly by this that all
that happened seemed to have no other end but to keep
me in pain. The sources of that pain, however, were not
in anything I or my nuns had to suffer, but in the distress
of the father-commissary, who was much afflicted because
he had ordered me to go thither; and his distress would
have been very great if any mishap had occurred, and there
were many things to bring that about.

14. At this time, too, the fathers of the mitigation came
to know why the foundation had been made. I showed
them my letters from the most reverend our father general. They were satisfied with them, but if they had
known what the archbishop was doing I do not think
they would have been so; but of that they knew nothing,
for everybody believed that the foundation gave him very
great joy and pleasure. It pleased God at last that he
came to see us, when I spoke to him of the harm he was
doing us. In the end he told me to do what I liked, and
as I liked, and from that time forth was gracious and kind
to us on every occasion that offered."

[Note: The Saint speaks of this visit in a letter to the general, written
from Seville, i8th June 1575. The prior of the Carmelites of the
Observance, Fray Miguel, was one of the visitors. They
asked by what authority the monastery had been erected, and on being
shown the letter of the general asked for a copy of it. The Saint knew
that the copy might be made use of against her, and refused to grant it.
(Note of Fray Antonio of S. Joseph.) ]

[Note: The archbishop wished the nuns to come to Seville from the first,
but he did not wish them to have a separate monastery of their own
order. His purpose was to distribute them among the several monasteries
within his jurisdiction, in order that by their fervour and good example
those monasteries might be reformed and made better. ]

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

The Foundation Of The Glorious S. Joseph Of Seville
Continued. What Happened When Getting A House
Of Our Own

I. Troubles and discouragements. â€” 2. Abandonment of the Saint. â€”
3. Her brother returns from the Indies. â€” 4. Difficulties in finding
a good house. â€” 5. A house found. â€” 6. Difficulties of taking
possession. â€” 7. The Saint takes possession of the new house. â€”
8. Troubles of Don Lorenzo. â€” 9. The church arranged. â€”
10. Preparations for the opening. â€” 11. Solemnities of the opening
â€” 12. A miracle.

No one would suppose that in a city so rich as
Seville, and among a people so wealthy, I should have
had less help in making a foundation than in any other
place wherein I had been.' They did so little for me
that 1 sometimes thought it would not be well for us to
have a monastery there. I do not know whether it be
that part of the earth where I have heard people say the
devils, by the permission of God, have more power to
tempt us. They pressed hard upon me, for never in any
other place was I so weak and cowardly. Certainly I
did not know myself, though 1 did not lose my ordinary
trust in our Lord. I was, however, so different from
what I usually am ever since I began these foundations, that I felt our Lord was in some measure withdrawing His hand, that He might abide in Himself,
and that I might see that any courage I had before was
not mine.

2. I remained there from the time already mentioned
till a little before Lent, I never thought of buying a
house, and I had not the means of doing so, neither was
there any one who would be surety for us. As for those
who had spoken so much to the father, the apostolic
visitor, about entering the order, and who had asked him
to bring the nuns to Seville, they must have seen later
that our life was too austere, and that they could not bear
it. One only came to us, of whom I shall speak later.'
And now the time was come to order me to leave
Andalucia, for other matters were now pressing here. It
was a very great grief to me to leave the nuns without a
house of their own, though I saw that I was of no use
whatsoever there, for that grace which God gives me here
of finding some one to help us in our work God did not
give me there.

3. It pleased God that a brother of mine, Lorenzo de
Cepeda, arrived at this time from the Indies where he
had been living for more than thirty-four years. He
took it more to heart than I did that the nuns had no house
of their own, and helped us much, especially in finding for
us the house wherein they dwell now. I, too, was then
much more urgent in my prayers to our Lord, begging
Him not to let me leave them without a house, and I
made the sisters pray to Him for the same object, and to
the glorious S. Joseph; we had many processions and made
many prayers to our Lady. Relying on these, and seeing
my brother bent on helping us, I began to treat about the
purchase of certain houses, and, though the matter seemed
to be arranged, yet all came to nothing.

4. When I was in prayer one day, beseeching God to
give them a house, seeing that they were His brides and
were so anxious to please Him, He said to me, ' I have
heard you; let me be.' I was very glad, considering
the house already gained, so it was â€” His Majesty
saved us from buying one with which everybody was
pleased because the site was good; and it was so old
and in so ruinous a state that we were buying merely the
site, and that for a little less than the house we are in cost
us. When the matter was settled, and nothing remained
but the drawing up of the deeds, I was not at all satisfied;
it seemed to me that the last word I had heard in prayer
was not fulfilled in that house, for that word, as I understood it, meant that God would give us a good house;
and it was His pleasure to do so, for the very person who
had sold the house, notwithstanding his great gain thereby,
made difficulties about the deeds when the time for signing
them had come. We were, therefore, free to abandon our
bargain without any fault on our part; and it was a great
grace of our Lord to us, for those who might have had to
live in it would never in all their life have finished the
repairs it needed; it would have been a great trouble to
them, and their means were scanty,

5. We had much help herein from a servant of God,
who almost from the day of our arrival, when he knew
that we had no one to say mass, came every day to say it,
though his house was far away, and the heat excessive.
He was Garci Alvarez, a very good man, and respected in
the city for his good deeds, and to which alone he was
always devoted, and if he had been wealthy we should
never have been in want. As he knew the house well, he
thought it very foolish to give so much for it, told us so
every day, and wanted us to speak about it no more. He
and my brother went to see that wherein the sisters are
now living, and returned so pleased with it â€” and justly so,
for our Lord meant it for us â€” that in two or three days
the deeds were drawn up.

[Note: This good priest became chaplain and confessor to the nuns, and in
November of this year began to make the Saint uneasy. He interfered
with the discipline of the house, kept his penitents long in the confessional,
and introduced into the monastery any confessor a nun might wish to
consult. When the prioress Mary of S. Joseph, remonstrated with him,
he went about the city and consulted others as to whether a prioress
could meddle with anything relating to confession. S. Teresa applied
to Fray Pedro Fernandez, the visitor, who, being at Seville, inquired
into the matter, and ordered the prioress to dismiss the indiscreet confessor. (Note of Fray Antonio of S. Joseph to Letter of 26th Nov.
1576. Mother Mary of S. Joseph says that although a servant of God
he was ignorant, puzzle-headed, devoid oi learning and experience.) ]

6. We had some trouble in moving into it, for they who
were then living in it would not go out, and the Franciscan friars, who lived close by, came at once to beg of
us not to go in on any account. If the deeds had not
been drawn up and signed 1 might have thanked our
Lord to have the contract set aside, for we were in
danger of paying 6000 ducats, the price of the house,
without being able to take possession. Not so did the
prioress look on it; she thanked God the bargain could
not be broken," for His Majesty gave her more faith and
courage than to me in all that related to that house, and
she must have greater courage than I have in everything,
for she is much better than I am. We were in this
trouble for more than a month; then it pleased God that
we should remove, the prioress and myself with the two
other nuns; we did so by night, and in great fear, that
the friars might know nothing about it before we took
possession; they who went with us said that they thought
every shadow they saw was a friar.

7. Early in the morning the good Garci Alvarez, who
came with us, said the first mass," and we had no fear
now. O Jesus, what fears I have had when taking
possession ! If when doing no evil, but serving God,
such fears are felt, what must it be with those persons
who go about doing evil against God and their neighbour ?
I know not what gain they can have, or what pleasure
they can seek, with such odds against them.

8. My brother was not here then, for he had taken
sanctuary on account of a certain mistake made in the
deed," which was drawn up in a hurry, â€” a mistake that
involved a great loss to the monastery â€” and as my
brother was our security they wished to take him to
prison. As he was a stranger his imprisonment would
have distressed us, and as it was we were in trouble, for
until he assigned some of his property as security there
was trouble enough. Later on the matter was arranged
satisfactorily, though, to give us more trouble, we did
not escape litigation for a time. We shut ourselves up
in certain rooms on the ground floor, and my brother was
there all day among the workmen, and supplied us with
food, and indeed had done so for many days before, for,
as everybody did not know of the monastery, because it
was a private house, we received but scanty alms except
from the prior of the Carthusians of Las Cuevas, a great
servant of God. He was a native of Avila, and of the
Pantoja family. ' God inspired him with such great
affection for us from the time we came here, and I believe
it will last, so that he will help us to the end of his life.
It is only reasonable, therefore, my sisters, if you should
read this, that you should pray to God for one who has
done so much for us, and for others also, whether he be
living or dead. I write this for that end: to this holy
man we owe much.

9. We were thus occupied for more than a month â€”
so I believe, but my memory is so bad in reckoning time,
and so I might be wrong; more or less must always be
understood when I speak of days, and it does not matter
much. My brother was very busy during this month in
converting certain rooms into a church, and in furnishing
it throughout, so that none of the labour fell upon us."

10. When it was finished I wished to have the Most
Holy Sacrament reserved without noise â€” for I very
much dislike giving trouble when it can be helped â€” and
said so to the father Garci Alvarez. He spoke about it
to the father prior of Las Cuevas, and they considered our
affairs as if they were their own. Their opinion was that
it could not be done as I wished, for if the monastery
was to be known in Seville the Most Holy must be
solemnly reserved, and they went to the archbishop. It
was settled among them all that the Most Holy Sacrament should be brought with great solemnity from one
of the parish churches. The archbishop ordered the
clergy and certain confraternities to join the procession,
and the streets to be decorated.

11, The good Garci Alvarez adorned our cloister,
which I have said served us then for a passage, and the
church with the utmost care. He prepared handsome
altars and arranged many devices. Among these was a
fountain of orange-flower water, which we had neither
wished for nor had anything to do with; it was afterwards
a great joy to us. It was a comfort to us to witness such
solemn preparations for our feast, so much decoration of
the streets, the music, and the minstrelsy. The holy
prior of Las Cuevas told me that he had never seen
anything like it in Seville, and that he looked on it all as
being visibly the work of God: he was in the procession
himself, which was an unusual act on his part. The
archbishop carried the Most Holy Sacrament. ' You see
here, my children, the poor Carmelites honoured of
all,' who shortly before seemed as if they could not get
a drop of water, though there was plenty in the river.
The people came in crowds.

12. A strange thing happened, according to the
account of those who saw it. After many salvoes of
artillery and rockets discharged, when the procession was
over and night was coming on, the people wished to
have more, when some powder, I know not how, took
fire; and it was a great marvel to all that he who had it
was not killed. A huge flame rushed upwards to the
top of the cloisters, the ceiling of which was covered
with silk hangings, which everybody expected to see
burnt to ashes; but it was not damaged in the slightest
degree, though made of purple and gold. But what I
am going to say is astonishing: the stonework of the
cloisters close under the silk was black with smoke, while
the silk above remained unsoiled as if the fire had never
reached it. Everybody was amazed at the sight. The
nuns gave thanks to our Lord, for they could never have
paid for the hangings. Satan must have been so vexed
at the solemnity which had been kept, and at the sight of
another house of God., that he would have his revenge
somehow, and His Majesty would not let him. May He
be blessed for ever and ever ! Amen.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Continuation Of The Same Foundation Of S. Joseph In The
City Of Seville. Relates Some Very Noteworthy Doings
Concerning The First Nun Who Entered There

I. The Saint quits Seville. â€” 2. Her stay there full of trials. â€” 3. The
first novice in Seville falsely accused when a child. â€” 4. And cruelly
treated. â€” 5. Her innocence manifested. â€” 6. Beginning of her
vocation. â€” 7. She refuses to marry. â€” 8. And is most cruelly
treated. â€” 9. Her goodness discovered. â€” 10. A vision. â€” 11. Sees
- Carmelites for the first time. â€” 12. Confesses to Father Gratian.
â€” 13. And escapes into the monastery. â€” 14.. Her joy and bodily
health. â€” 15. Assailed by temptations. â€” 16. And delivered.

You can well imagine, my daughters, the joy we
had that day. Mine, I may say, was very great, especially when I saw that I was leaving the sisters in so good
a house, so well placed, the monastery known, and with
nuns in it who could pay the greater part of the sum it
cost, so that by the help of those who should come to
fill up the number, however small their dowry, they
might live without being in debt. What gave me the
greatest joy of all was, that I had had a share in their
troubles, and when I had to rest myself I went away.
This festival took place on the Sunday before Pentecost,
1576. Immediately after, on the Monday, I left the
place, to escape the great heat then beginning, and to
avoid travelling, if possible, in Whitsuntide, and to keep
the feast in Malagon, where I wished much to stop a
day; that is why I made such haste to be gone.'

2. It was not our Lord's pleasure that I should hear
mass even once in the church; the joy of the nuns was
seriously disturbed by my departure, which they felt much.
We had been together for a year, and had suffered so
much, as I have already said; but I do not recount here
our greatest troubles. I believe myself that, with the
exception of the foundation in Avila, with which none
other is to be compared, I never had so much to endure
anywhere as here, because my trials were for the most
part interior. May His Divine Majesty grant that He
may be always served in this house ! as I trust He will
be, for if it be so everything else is as nothing. His
Majesty has begun to draw good souls into the house.
As to those in it whom I took with me, five in number,
I have already said how good they were: that is only a
part of what might be said of them, and that the least.

3. I will speak of the first who entered, because her
story will give you pleasure. She was the daughter of
most pious Christians, her father a highlander. When
she was still a child, about seven years of age, an aunt of
hers begged her mother to let her have her, as she had
no children of her own. She took her home, and must
have caressed her and shown her love for her, as was
natural, for certain women in her service, who, before the
child came, had hopes of inheriting some portion of her
property, seeing clearly from the love shown her that the
aunt would leave her the greater part, agreed together to
have her removed out of the way by a diabolic act,
which was, to accuse the child of an intent to murder the
aunt, and of having given some money to one of them
for the purchase of corrosive sublimate. This was told
to the aunt, and as all the three said the same thing she
believed them; the mother of the child, who is a most
excellent woman, did so also.

4. The mother took the child and carried her home,
thinking that in her she was nurturing a very wicked
woman. Beatriz of the Mother of God â€” for that is her
name â€” told me that for more than a year her mother
continued to whip and torture her, and to make her sleep
on the bare floor, because she wanted her to confess so
great a wickedness. When the poor child said she had
done no evil, and that she did not know what corrosive
sublimate was, her mother thought the worse of her, as
one possessed of a spirit to hide her sin. The poor
mother was distressed when she saw her thus hardened
in her denial, thinking she could never be reformed. It
is strange the child did not accuse herself to escape such
chastisements, but as she was innocent God gave her
Strength always to speak the truth.

5. But, as His Majesty helps those who do no wrong,
He chastised two of those women so severely that they
seemed to be mad; they sent for the child secretly to
come to her aunt, and begged her to forgive them, and
unsaid everything now they were at death's door. The
third woman did as much â€” she died in childbirth. In
a word, all the three died in great pain: it was a chastisement for that which they had made the innocent child to
suffer. I know all this, not from herself only, for afterwards her mother, when she saw her a nun, distressed at
the evil treatment she had received at her hands, recounted it to me with other matters; she had been most
cruelly treated. God permitted the mother, who had no
other child, and who was a very good Christian, to be
thus cruel to her own daughter, whom she loved
exceedingly. She is a most truthful and pious person.

6. When the child was a little more than twelve years
of age she read in some book the life of S. Anne, and
conceived a great devotion to the saints of Mount
Carmel, it being said there that the mother of S. Anne
â€” I think her name was Emerenciana â€” used to converse
often with them. Hence her devotion to the order of
our Lady became so strong that she made a vow of
chastity, and promised to become a Carmelite nun.
Whenever she could she spent many hours alone and in
prayer. God and our Lady gave her great and very
special graces. She wanted to become a nun at once,
but durst not on account of her father and mother;
besides, she did not know where to find the order, which
was strange, for, though there was a monastery of the
mitigation in Seville,' she never knew of it till she heard
of our monasteries many years afterwards.

7. When she was old enough to be married her
father and mother considered on whom they should
bestow her, she being still very young. They had now,
however, no other child, for her brothers were all dead,
and she, the least cherished, alone remained. She had
one brother living when that affair happened of which
I have been speaking, and he had defended her, saying
that the story was not to be believed. When the marriage
was already settled they spoke to her about it, thinking
that she would make no objection; but she told them
that she had made a vow never to marry, and that
she never would be married even if they were to
kill her.

8. Her father and mother took it into their heads
that she had misbehaved herself in some way, and therefore would not marry: it was a delusion of Satan, or a
self-deception which God permitted to make a martyr of
her. So they having promised her in marriage, and
seeing what an affront it was to the bridegroom, beat her
so much and treated her so cruelly â€” even wishing to
strangle her, for they used to throttle her â€” that it was
fortunate they did not kill her. God, who had chosen
her for other things, gave her life. She told me that at
last she scarcely felt the ill-treatment at all, for she used
to think of the sufferings of S. Agnes, which our Lord
brought to her recollection, and that she rejoiced to
suffer something for His sake, and did nothing else
but offer up her wrongs to Him. They thought she
Would die, for she was three months in bed unable
to move.

9. It seems very strange that a young girl who never
left her mother's side, and whose father, as I have heard,
was so prudent, could be thought so ill of, for she was
always pious and modest, and so charitable that whatever
she could get she gave away in alms. When our Lord
wishes to give any one the grace to suffer He has many
ways of doing so. Some years after this, however. He
made them see the goodness of their child; they would
then give her what she wanted for her alms-deeds, and
the persecutions were changed into caresses. Nevertheless, everything was a trial to her because of her wish to
be a nun, and so she lived on, as she told me, in great
distress and sadness of heart.

10. Some thirteen or fourteen years before father
Gratian went to Seville, and when there was no talk of
barefooted Carmelite friars, this happened: â€” She was
with her father and mother and two women from the
neighbourhood when a friar of our order came in, clad in
serge as they are now, and barefooted. They say his
countenance was cheerful and venerable, but he was so
old, however, that his beard which was long, looked like
silver threads; he stood close beside her, and began to
address her in a language which neither she nor any of
the others understood, and when he had done speaking
he made the sign of the cross over her three times, saying,
Beatriz, God make thee strong,' and went away. While
he remained nobody stirred: they were amazed. Her
father asked her who he was. She thought that he knew
him. They rose up in haste to look for him, but they
saw him no more. She was greatly consoled herself, and
all were amazed, for what they had seen was the work of
God, and in consequence of it they made much of her,
as I have just said. All these years, I believe fourteen,
passed away, she herself always serving our Lord, and
praying Him to fulfil her desire.

II. She was in great distress when the father-master
Fray Jerome Gratian came to the neighbourhood. One
day she went to hear a sermon in one of the churches of
Triana â€” it was there her father was living â€” not knowing
who the preacher was to be, and there saw the father-master Gratian go to receive the benediction. When
she saw him in his habit and barefooted she thought at
once of him whom she had seen before; the habit was the
same, but the age and the countenance were not, for
father Gratian was not yet thirty years of age. She told me
that she almost fainted away in the excess of her joy, for,
though she had heard that there was a monastery in
Triana, she did not know it belonged to the Carmelites. From that day forth she tried to go to confession to father Gratian; it was the will of God,
however, that she should have no little trouble, for she
applied to him as often as twelve times â€” it might be
more or less â€” but he never would hear her confession.
She was young and beautiful, for she must have been
then not twenty-seven, and he, being extremely careful,
would not have any relations with persons like her.

12. One day in the church â€” she too was most careful
herself â€” a woman asked her what the matter was, for she
was weeping. She said that she had made so many
efforts to speak to that father, who was then hearing
confessions, and all to no purpose. The woman took
her to the confessional, and asked him to hear her
confession; and so she made a general confession to him.
He, when he saw so noble a soul, was greatly comforted
himself, and comforted her too by telling her that
Carmelite nuns might be coming, and that he would
make them receive her immediately; and so it came to
pass, and the first thing he ordered me to do was to
receive her the first of all, for he was satisfied with her
spirit, and told her so. When we came she took much
pains to keep our arrival from the knowledge of her
father and mother, for if they knew of it she would have
had no opportunity of coming to us. And so, on the
very day of the least of the Most Holy Trinity, she
left the women who used to attend her behind, for her
mother did not go with her to confession, and the
monastery of the Carmelites, where she always confessed, and to which she gave great alms, as well as
her father and mother for her sake, was at some
distance.

13. She had arranged with a very great servant of
God to take her, and told the women who used to attend
her to leave her, as the woman with whom she was going
out was very well-known in Seville as a great servant of
God, given to good works, and that she would return
immediately. They accordingly let her take with her the
habit and mantle of frieze; how she carried them I know
not, unless it was her joy that made everything light.
Her only fear was that somebody might stop her and
find out what she was carrying, for she was walking
out in a way most unusual for her. What cannot the
love of God do ? She had now no respect of persons,
and thought of nothing but of the possibility of her desire
being frustrated; we opened the door to her at once.
I sent word to her mother, who came as if beside herself,
but said that she saw that God was gracious to her child,
and, though she was distressed because she could not
speak to her yet she was not immoderately so, as
others are; on the contrary, she gave us at once very
large alms.

14. The bride of Jesus Christ began to rejoice in the
happiness so much desired. She was so humble, and so
pleased with whatever she had to do, that we found
some trouble in taking the broom out of her hands. She
who had been made so much of at home found all her
recreation in hard work. The great happiness she felt
caused her to gain flesh at once, which so struck her
father and mother that they were glad to see her in the
monastery.

15. Some two or three months before the time of her
profession, that she might not have so much joy without
suffering, she fell into most grievous temptations; not
because she was not determined to make her profession,
but because she thought the religious life most hard to
bear. She forgot all the years during which she had
suffered so much to gain the blessing she now had, and
Satan tormented her so cruelly that she could not help
herself. Nevertheless doing violence to herself she
conquered him, and in the midst of her torments made
a resolution to be professed. Three days before her
profession our Lord, who would not let her strength be
tried any longer, visited and consoled her in a most
special way, and put Satan to flight.

16. She was now so consoled that during those three
days she seemed to be beside herself with joy, and for
good reasons â€” the grace she had received was great.
Within a few days after she entered the monastery her
father died, and her mother took the habit in the same
house, giving to it by way of alms all she possessed.
The mother and child are living in the greatest joy,
edifying all the nuns, and serving Him who has bestowed
upon them so great a grace. Moreover a year had not
passed by when there came another, very much against
the will of her father and mother. Thus our Lord goes
on, filling this His house with souls so eager to serve
Him that neither the austerities nor the strictness of
enclosure can stand in their way. May He be blessed
for ever and ever ! May He be praised for ever and
ever ! Amen.

[Note: Beatriz of the Mother of God made her profession 29th September
1576; in the following year after the Calced fathers had mixed themselves up with the government of the house, she gave false evidence
against the prioress, who in consequence was deposed, and against
Father, -Jerome Gratian, while she herself was nominated prioress. But
the falsehood of the accusations having been proved, Mary of Joseph
was reinstated by Fray Angel de Salazar. It took Beatriz some time to
see her wrongs, but being convinced she humbled herself and asked
pardon. The remainder of her life was most edifying. She died in
1624 at the age of 86.]

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Treats Of The Foundation In The City Of Caravaca. The
Blessed Sacrament Is Reserved On New Year'S Day Of
The Same Year 1576. It Bears The Title Of The Glorious
Saint Joseph

I. Caravaca. â€” 2. The Saint undertakes the foundation. â€” 3. Difficulties.
â€” 4. The final arrangements made. â€” 5. The lords of Caravaca
claim the jurisdiction over the monastery. â€” 6. The nuns intended
for Caravaca. â€” 7. Sent out. â€” 8. Evils of melancholy. â€” 9. Nuns to
guard against laxity. â€” 10. Exhortation to the nuns. â€” 11. No one to
be refused because she is poor. â€” 12. How nuns ought to dispose of
their wealth. â€” 13. The Saint confesses her integrity. â€” 14. And the
hand of God. â€” 15. The hardships endured by the Saint. â€” 16. Her
affection for the nuns. â€” 17. The monasteries founded with the
sanction of the General. â€” 18. The foundations stopped. â€” 19. The
Saint's joy. â€” 20. The Saint rejoiced in her troubles. â€” 21. Reasons
of her writing. â€” 22. Interrupted and resumed. â€” 23. Ceases from
writing. â€” 24. And asks for prayers.

When I was in S. Joseph's, Avila, about to depart
for the foundation in Veas, of which I have spoken
already, with everything settled except the immediate
preparations for the journey, there came to me a special
messenger from a lady who lived in Caravaca, called
Dona Catalina, to tell me that three young women, after
hearing a sermon by a father of the Society of Jesus, had
come to her house, determined never to quit it till a
monastery should be built in that place. It was an act
which they must have arranged with that lady, who is the
person who helped them in that foundation. They were
children of the greatest persons in that town. One was
the daughter of Rodrigo de Moya, a very great servant
of God, and a man of great prudence. They had money
enough among them for a work like this. They knew
what our Lord had done in the foundation of these
monasteries, having heard of them from the fathers of the
Society of Jesus, who always countenanced and helped us.

2. When I saw the earnestness and fervour of these
souls, who sent so far for the order of our Lady, my
devotion was kindled, and I felt a great wish to further
their good intention. Having ascertained that the place
was near Veas, I took with me more nuns than I was in
the habit of doing, purposing to go thither when the
foundation in Veas should be settled; for, judging by
the letters, I thought we could not fail in making the
arrangement.

3. But my plans were of little use, for our Lord had
decreed otherwise, as I said in the history of the foundation of Seville.' They had obtained permission of the
council of the orders, but it was such as made me give
it up, though I had resolved to go thither. The truth
is, that when I found out at Veas where the place
was, that it was so far away, and what a labour it would
be to visit the nuns, and that superiors might take it
amiss, I was not very willing to go and make that
foundation. However, as I had raised certain expectations, 1 begged the father Julian of Avila and Antonio
Gaytan to go and see how the matter stood, and to put
an end to it if they should think it right to do so. They
found it had been very much neglected, not by those
who were to become nuns, but by Dona Catalina, who
was the chief person concerned in it, and who lodged the
young women in a room by themselves, as if they were
already withdrawn from the world.

4. The nuns were so earnest, especially two of them â€”
I am speaking of those who were to become nuns â€” that
they completely won over Julian of Avila and Antonio
Gaytan â€” so much so that they had the deeds drawn up
before they returned, and came away leaving the nuns in
great joy. They were so pleased themselves with them
and the 'Country that they did nothing else but say so,
at the same time admitting the road was bad. "When
I saw the matter settled but the licence delayed, I sent
back again the good Antonio Gaytan, who, out of
affection for me, willingly undertook all this trouble. He
and Julian of Avila were very eager about the foundation;
in truth, we must thank them for this foundation, for if
they had not gone thither and arranged it all I could have
done very little for it. I told him to go and put up the
turn with the grating where they were to take possession,
and where the nuns were to remain till they found a
proper house. He remained, therefore, many days there;
it was in the house of Rodrigo de Moya, who, as I said
before, was the father of one of the young girls, and who
had given us a part of it. He was there many days
exceedingly well pleased, busy with this.

5. When they had obtained the licence, and when
I was about setting out on my journey, I heard that by
one of the clauses thereof the house was to be subject to
the commandery, and that the nuns were to yield
obedience to the knights." That I could not allow,
because it was to be a house of the order of our Lady of
Carmel, and accordingly they applied for another licence;
and here, as in the case of Veas, they could not get it.
But the king now reigning, Don Philip, was so good to
me that on my writing to him he gave orders for the
issuing of the licence, so ready is he to help those
religious who, he knows, keep their rule; for when he
had heard of our way of living in these monasteries, and
of our observance of the primitive rule, he helped us in
everything: and so I earnestly beg of you, my daughters,
always to make special intercessions for his majesty, as
we are doing at present. Then, as another application
had to be made for a licence, I departed for Seville, by
order of the father-provincial, who was then as now,
the father-master, Fray Jerome Gratian of the Mother of
God, as I said before; and the poor children continued
shut up till the following New Year's Day. It was in
February they had sent the message to Avila.' The
licence now was very soon obtained, but, as I was so far
away, and in the midst of so much trouble myself," I
could not help them, and was very sorry for them.
They wrote to me very often in their great distress, and
I could not bear to keep them in that state any longer.

6. As it was impossible for me to go myself, both
because of the great distance and because this foundation was not yet completely made, the father-master
Fray Jerome Gratian, who, as I have said before, was
apostolic visitor at the time, resolved that the nuns who
were intended for the foundation there, and who were
then in S. Joseph's of Malagon, should go thither, though
I could not go with them.

7. I arranged that the prioress should be one, who
I was confident would do exceedingly well, for she is
much better than I am. Taking with them whatever
was necessary, they departed with two of our fathers of
the barefooted Carmelites,' for the father Julian of Avila
and Antonio Gaytan had for some days previously
returned to their homes, and I did not like them to go
with them, because the place was so far off and the
weather so bad, for it was now the end of December.
The nuns on their arrival were received with great joy in
the place, particularly by those who were shut up so
closely. The monastery was founded, and the Most
Holy Sacrament carried in on the feast of the Name of
Jesus, 1576.' Two of them took the habit at once; the
other was much given to melancholy, and the evil must
have been increased by her confinement, to say nothing of
the closeness of it and her penances; it was settled that
she should return home with one of her sisters.'

8. Behold, my daughters, the judgments of God, and
the obligation we are under to serve Him, seeing that
He has allowed us to persevere and make our profession,
and to dwell for ever in the house of God as daughters
of the Virgin, His Majesty made use of the goodwill of this lady and of her property, but, at the moment
when she was about to enter on the fruition of that
which she had so much desired, her strength failed her
and her low spirits prevailed, on which, my children,
we often lay the blame of our imperfections and
caprices.

9. May His Majesty pour down His grace abundantly
on us, for then nothing will hinder us from advancing
ever more and more in His service, and also protect and
defend us all, so that what has been well begun, as it
has been his good pleasure to have made a beginning
in such poor women as we are, may not prove a failure
through our weakness. I implore you in His name, my
sisters and my daughters, to pray to our Lord for this,
and let every one of those who shall hereafter enter look
on herself as if the primitive rule of the order of the
Virgin our Lady had its beginning in her, and never in
any way consent to any mitigation of it. Consider that
the door is opened for very great laxity by very little
things, and that the world may come in before you are
aware of it. Remember that what you possess in peace
has been wrought in poverty and toil; and if you look
deeply into it you will see that most of these houses were
generally founded, not by man, but by the mighty hand
of God, and that His Majesty is most ready to carry on
the work He has begun if we do not hinder Him.
Where do you think a poor woman like myself, under
obedience, without a farthing in the world, or any one to
help her, found the means to do so great a work ? My
brother, who helped in the foundation of Seville, had
some means, courage, and good dispositions wherewith to help us, but he was then in the Indies,

10. Behold, my daughters, behold the hand of God:
He did not honour me in this because of my illustrious
birth; in whatever light you may look upon it, you will
find it to be His work. It is not right we should in any
way impair it, even were it to cost us our life, our good
name, and our peace; still less when we have all these
together, for life is to live in such a way as not to be
afraid of death, or of anything that may happen while it
lasts, in the possession of that continual joyfulness which
you now have all of you, and of this prosperity that never
can be greater, consisting in the utter absence of the fear
of poverty, or rather in the desire of it. Then, is there
anything with which you can compare the peace wherein
you live, whether inward or outward ? It is in your
power to live and die in it as you saw them die who have
died in these houses. Then, if you always pray God to
further this work, having no confidence in yourselves â€”
if you put your trust in Him, and are courageous â€”
seeing that His Majesty loves it. He will not withhold
His mercy.

11. Have no fear that you will ever be in want of
anything; never fail to receive those who come to be
nuns merely because they are without worldly goods, if
they are virtuous, when you are satisfied with their good
desires and their abilities, and they come not simply
for a place to live in, but rather to serve God in greater
perfection; for God, on the other hand, will give you
that twofold which you should have had with them.
I have had great experience in this. His Majesty
knows well that, so far as I can remember, I never
failed to receive one because she was poor, provided
I was pleased with her In other respects. They are
my witnesses, and they are many, who have been received
simply for God, as you know yourselves. And I can
assure you that my joy was not so great when I received
those that brought much with them as it was when
I received those who came for God's sake alone: on the
contrary I had fears about the former, while those who
were poor cheered my spirit, and gave me so much
pleasure as to make me weep for joy: that is the truth.
Then, if when we had to buy and build our houses He
helped us also therein, why should He not help us now that
we have wherewithal to live ? Believe me, my daughters,
you will suffer loss there where you think you are gaining.

12. When one comes with means, under no obligations to bestow them on others, who perhaps need them
not, it is right she should give them to you by way of
alms;" I confess that if she did otherwise she would
show but little affection for you. Always, however,
make her who comes understand that she must act herein
as learned men shall advise her for the greater service of
God, for it would be a serious evil if we claimed the
property of anyone that came to us for any other end but
that. We make a much greater gain â€” that is, we act in
much greater perfection â€” when she does that which is
a duty to God, than by receiving anything she may bring
with her, for we all of us have no aim, and God grant
we may never have, other than the service of His Majesty
in and by everything.

[Note: The Saint was always willing to admit the poor in their poverty,
but she was inexorable with the wealthy who attempted to place their
children in the monasteries and retained their dowers. In a letter to
the prioress of Seville of 26th September 1576 she forbids the reception
of Blanca of Jesus Maria without her dower, though she was the
daughter of Dona Leonor de Valera, who had given alms to the house
when it was in distress. The Saint says that the father was a man who
would never give a farthing if he could help it. His greed may be the
explanation of his wife's conduct in employing others to administer her
alms. ]

13. Though I am myself a wretched and wicked
woman, I say this to His honour and glory, and that
you may have joy in the way wherein these His houses
have been founded â€” never in treating about them,
never in the doing of anything that had to be done in
relation to them even when I thought I should not
prosper with any of them unless I turned aside from
my intention, would I in any way do, nor have I done â€”
I am speaking of these foundations â€” anything whatever,
if I but knew it, that swerved by a hair's breadth from
the will of our Lord, according to the directions of my
confessors, who, since I have been thus employed have
always been, as you know, very learned men and great
servants of God; and I do not remember that I ever
even thought of following any other course.

14. Perhaps I deceive myself â€” I may have done much
amiss of which I am not aware, and my imperfections
may be innumerable â€” I am speaking about myself only
as I know myself; our Lord who is the true judge,
knows it; and I, too, see very clearly that the work was
not mine, but God's, who willed it should be done; and, as
it was His own work. He helped me, and was thus gracious
unto me. I say this on purpose that you, my children,
may learn that you are the more indebted to Him, and
know that the houses have been founded without wronging anybody to this day. Blessed be He who has done
it all, and quickened the charity of those who have helped
us ! May it please His Majesty to protect us always,
and give us His grace, that we may not be ungrateful
for such great mercies ! Amen.

15. You have seen already, my daughters, that we
had some hardships to bear, but I believe that I have
described only the least of them, for if they were to be
recounted in detail it would be very wearisome: those of
the roads and missing them; of rain and snow, and
more than all, my scanty health; and once â€” I know not
if I have spoken of it ' â€” it was our first day's journey
from Malagon to Veas â€” I happened to be ill of a fever,
and in many other ways at the same time, so that when I
considered the length of the journey, and beheld the state
I was in, I thought of Elias, our father, flying from the
face of Jezabel, and said, ' Lord, have I the strength to
bear it ? Look Thou to it.' The truth is, that when
His Majesty saw I was weak He delivered me on the
instant from the fever and the other illnesses; and ever
since, whenever I call it to mind, I have been thinking that
it happened so because an ecclesiastic, a servant of God,
came to me at the time; and perhaps it was so; at
least I was delivered in a moment from all my sufferings,
outward and inward.

16. When I had my health I bore all my bodily toils
with joy. Then, I had not a little to bear when I had to
bear with, as it was necessary I should in every place,
the tempers of many people, and in leaving behind my
daughters and my sisters, when I had to go away from
one place to another: that was not, I may tell you, the
least of my crosses, for I love them so much â€” especially
when I considered that I might never see them again
and saw them sorrowing and weeping; for, though they
are detached from everything else, God has not given
them this kind of detachment, perhaps that it might be
a greater anguish for me; neither was I detached from
them, though I strove to the utmost of my power not to
show it, and even rebuked them; but it was of no use,
for the love they have for me is great and real, as may
be clearly seen in many ways.

17. You have also heard that these monasteries were
founded not only with the permission of the most
reverend our father-general, but by an express precept or
commandment subsequently given. This is not all, for he
wrote to me to say of the foundation of each house that
it gave him the very greatest pleasure when the foundations I have spoken of were made. Certainly, the
greatest relief to me in all my troubles was to see the
joy they gave to him, for I felt that I was pleasing our
Lord when I was pleasing him, for he is my superior,
and, besides, I have a great affection for him.

18. Either His Majesty was pleased to give me some
rest at last, or Satan was vexed because so many houses
were founded for the service of our Lord. It is well
known that it was not the will of our father-general, for
on my begging him, a few years before, not to order me
to found any more houses he wrote back that he would
not do so, because his desire was that I should found as
many houses as I had hairs on my head.' Before I
came away from Seville there was brought to me from
the general chapter, which I think ought to have highly
considered the Increase of the order, a decree of the
definitory enjoining me not only to make no more
foundations, but also, on no account whatever, to leave
the house I should choose to dwell in, which was something like sending me to prison,' for there are no nuns
whom the provincial may not, when necessary for the
good of the order, send from one place to another â€” I
mean, from one monastery to another. And the most
grievous thing was this â€” our father-general was displeased with me, certainly not with reason, but on
account of the reports of persons who had given way
to passion; and this it was that gave me pain. At the
same time two other and very grave charges were brought
against me, but they were not true."

19. I tell you, my sisters, that you may behold the
compassion of our Lord, and that His Majesty ceases not
to defend those who desire to serve Him, that this not
only did not distress me, but gave me such unexpected
joy that I could not control it, so that I am not surprised
at what king David did before the ark of our Lord;' I
wished then to do nothing else, for my joy was such
that I could not hide it. What the reason was I know
not, for in the other slanders and contradictions nothing:
of the kind happened; one at least of the charges was
most serious." The prohibition to make foundations,
if it had not been for the displeasure of the most reverend
general, would have been a great comfort to me, and
what I often longed for was that I might end my life
in peace; however, they who obtained that prohibition
were not thinking of this, for they thought they were
causing me the greatest affliction in the world; they had
probably other good intentions.

20. Sometimes, too, I had a joy in the contradictions
and reproaches I met with while employed in making these
foundations; some persons were against me with good
intentions, others had other reasons, but I do not
remember that I ever felt so great a joy as this in any
trouble that befell me I confess that at any other
time any one of the three trials that came upon me all
at once would have been trial enough for me. I believe
that my chief source of joy lay in this â€” I thought that, as
creatures thus repaid me, I must have pleased my Creator,
for I know that he who will take his pleasure in the
things of earth or in the praise of men will be greatly
deceived, to say nothing of the little he may gain by it;
men are of one opinion to-day, of another to-morrow; that
of which they once speak well they soon revile. Blessed
be Thou, my God and my Lord, who never changest,
never ! Amen. Whosoever shall serve Thee to the end
shall live without end in Thy eternity.

21. I began to write the history of these foundations
at the commandment of the father-master Ripalda of
the Society of Jesus, as I said when I began; he was then
rector of the college in Salamanca and I used to confess
to him. Some of it I wrote when I was sojourning there
in the monastery of the glorious S. Joseph, in the year
1573. I then refrained from writing because of my
many occupations, and I would not go on with it because
I was not then confessing to him â€” he had gone to
another part of the country â€” and also because it cost me
so much toll and labour to write, though I look on my
labour as well bestowed because always under obedience.
When I had made up my mind to write no more I was
ordered to finish the work.- by the father the commissary
apostolic, who is at present the Fray Jerome Gratian of
the Mother of God.

22. I told him how few opportunities I had for
writing, and gave him other reasons which suggested
themselves to me â€” for I spoke as one whose obedience
is miserable â€” and that it was also a great burden added
to the others I had to bear; nevertheless he commanded
me to finish it by degrees, or when I could. I have done
so, submitting myself in everything to those who, finding
therein anything amiss, shall blot it out, because perhaps
that which to me appears very good may be said
badly.

23. I finish to-day, the vigil of S. Eugenius, 14th
November 1576, in the monastery of S. Joseph, Toledo,
where I am staying by the order of the commissary
apostolic, Fray Jerome Gratian of the Mother of God,
whom we now have as the superior of the barefooted
Carmelites, men and women, of the primitive rule, being
at the same time visitor of those who keep the rule of the
mitigation in Andalucia, to the honour and glory of Jesus
Christ our Lord, who reigneth and will reign for ever.
Amen.

24. I implore the sisters and brothers who shall read
this, for the love of our Lord, to pray to our Lord for
me, that He would have compassion upon me, deliver me
from the pains of purgatory, and, if I shall merit an
entrance thereinto, let me have the fruition of Himself.
As you are not to see this so long as I live, let me have
some advantage after I am dead from the weariness of
writing and from the great desire I had while writing to
be able to say something that might be a comfort to you,
if it should be thought right for you to read it.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

The Foundation Of Villanueva De La Jara

I. Troubles of the Order. â€” 2. And of the Saint. â€” 3. The new nuncio. â€”
4. His severities. â€” 5. Fray Pedro Fernandez. â€” 6. Prayers for the
king. â€” 7. Villanueva de la Jara. â€” 8. The Saint's hesitation. â€”
9. Counselled not to refuse the foundation. â€” 10. The Saint
importuned anew. â€” 11. But still hesitates. â€” 12. Other reasons for
hesitation. â€” 13. A divine locution. â€” 14. She chooses the nuns
for the new foundation. â€” 15. She departs from Malagon. â€”
16. Courage. â€” 17. Arrival at the monastery of La Roda. â€” 18. Dona
Catalina de Cardona.â€” 19. Her strange vocation. â€” 20. Becomes a
hermit. â€” 21. Her simplicity. â€” 22. Severity of her hermit life. â€”
23. Tormented by Satan. â€” 24. She makes preparations for founding
a monastery. â€” 25. A vision of Fray Ambrosio Mariano. â€” 26. She
returns to Madrid. â€” 27. Her death and burial. â€” 28. Dona
Catalina wished to remove to a more distant place. â€” 29. The
Saint's reverence for Dona Catalina. â€” 30 Who appeared to her in
a vision. â€” 31. The Saint reaches Villanueva, 21st February 1580.
â€” 32. Is received with great rejoicing. â€” 33. Her humility. â€” 34.
Penitential life in the house of S. Anne. â€” 35. Piety of the
recluses of S. Anne. â€” 36. Their devotions. â€” 37. The vocation of
a Carmelite. â€” 38. Origin of the hermitage of S. Anne.

When the foundation in Seville had been made no
other foundations were made for more than four years;
the reason was that great persecutions ' of the friars and
nuns arose all at once, so that the order was on the brink
of ruin, and, though there had been persecutions enough
before, none had been so severe. Satan showed clearly
what he thought of the blessed beginning which our Lord
had made, and that he felt it to be His work, seeing that
it prospered. The friars suffered much, especially the
foremost among them, from the false accusations brought
against them, and the opposition made to them by nearly
all the fathers of the mitigation. The most reverend our
father general, though a most saintly man, and though
he had given authority for the foundation of all the
monasteries except the first, that of S. Joseph in Avila,
made by authority of the Pope, was influenced by
the fathers of the mitigation that he would allow no more
friars of the primitive observance; nevertheless he was
always friendly to the monasteries of the nuns.

2, Now, because I had helped herein, he was made to
show his displeasure against me, and that was the greatest
trouble I had to bear while making these foundations, and
I had to bear many; for to give up helping in the
furtherance of this work, which I saw clearly was for
the service of our Lord and the advancement of our
order, men of the highest learning, to whom I confessed,
and by whom I was advised, would not allow me; and
then to go against what I saw was the will of my superior
was a very death, for, beside my obligation as his subject,
I had a most tender affection for him, and it was justly
due to him. The truth is I wished to please him herein,
but I could not, because I was under visitors apostolic,
whom I was bound to obey.

3. A saintly nuncio died, who greatly encouraged
every thing that was good, and who therefore had
a great respect for the barefooted friars. Another
came, whom God seemed to have sent for the purpose
of trying us by sufferings;' he was in some way related
to the Pope, and must have been a great servant of God,
but he began by favouring very much the friars of the
mitigation. The information he received from them
concerning us convinced him that it was not right to go
on with what we had begun, and so he began to carry out
his purpose with the very greatest severity, censuring,
imprisoning, and banishing those who he thought might
be able to withstand him.

4. They who had most to suffer were the father
Fray Antonio of Jesus, who began the first monastery of
the barefooted Carmehtes, and the father Fray Jerome
Gratian, whom the late nuncio had made visitor apostolic
of those of the mitigation; against him and the father
Mariano of S. Benedict his displeasure was great. I
have already said who those fathers were in writing
of the previous foundations: others, too, of the more
grave fathers he put in penance, though not so severely.
Upon these he laid strict injunctions that they were to
meddle with none of our affairs. It was plain that all
this came from God, and that His Majesty allowed it
for a greater good, and for the clearer manifestation of
the goodness of these fathers, as indeed it was. He
made a father of the mitigation our superior, who was to
visit our monasteries of nuns and friars. If he had
found what he expected we should have been in serious
Straits, and we had accordingly very much to suffer, as
will be told by one who is more able than I am to write.
I do but touch the matter, that the nuns who shall come
after us may know how great are their obligations to
make progress in perfection when they find that made
easy to them which has cost so much to us who are now
alive. Some of them suffered in those days from false
accusations, which distressed me much more than anything
I had to suffer myself; for that on the contrary, was
a great delight to me. I considered myself as the cause
of the whole tempest, and if they had thrown me into
the sea with Jonas the storm would have ceased, Praised
be God who helps the truth, and so He did at this time;
for, as soon as our Catholic king Don Philip knew what
was going on, and learnt how the barefooted Carmelites
lived and kept their rule, he took our cause into his own
hands, and would have the nuncio not to be the sole
judge of it, but assigned four grave persons, three of
whom were religious, to be his assistants, in order that
justice might be really done us.'

5. One of these was the father master Fray Pedro
Fernandez, a man of most saintly life, very learned and
able. He had been apostolic commissary and visitor of
the fathers of the mitigation of the province of Castille,
and we also of the primitive rule were subject to him.
He knew well and truly how both the one and the other
were living, for we all wished for nothing but the making
known our way of life. Then, when I saw that the king
had named him, I looked on the matter as settled," as,
by the goodness of God, it is. May His Majesty grant it
to be for His honour and glory ! Though the noblemen
of the realm and the bishops who took great pains to
put the truth before the nuncio were many in number,
yet it would all have been to little purpose if God had
not made use of the king.

6. We are under very great obligations, my sisters,
all of us, to remember him in our prayers to our Lord,
together with those ' who undertook His cause and that
of our Lady the Virgin, and so I earnestly recommend
you to do so. You will understand now, my sisters,
what opportunity there was for making foundations; we
were all intent on prayer and penance without ceasing,
begging God to prosper our foundations already made,
if they were for His service.

7. In the beginning of these great troubles, which
thus briefly told may seem to you slight, and which long
endured were heavy, there came to me in Toledo in the
year 1576, whither I had gone from making the foundation in Seville,' an ecclesiastic from Villanueva de la
Jara with letters from the municipality. The purport
was to arrange with me for the receiving into a monastery
nine women, who were living together in a hermitage
of the glorious S. Anne, which was in the neighbourhood.
They had stayed some years in a small house close by it, and
in such recollectedness and holiness that the whole population was moved to make an effort to fulfil their desire, which
was that of being nuns. I received a letter also from a
doctor, the parish priest of the place, Agustin de Ervias,
a learned and good man, and it was his great goodness that
made him help, so far as he could, in this holy work.

8. As for myself I thought it was wholly out of the
question that I should accept the monastery, for these
reasons: â€” i. Because they whom I was to accept were
so many, and because I considered it would be a very
difficult thing to train in our way those who had been
accustomed to live in their own. 2. Because they had
scarcely any means of subsistence, and the place has
hardly more than a thousand inhabitants, which would
furnish but scanty help to those who have to live on
alms: though the municipality did offer to maintain
them, I did not think that was to be relied on. 3. They
had no house. 4. They were far away from the other
monasteries. And, though I was told they were very good,
yet as I had not seen them I could not know whether
they had those gifts which we claim for our monasteries,
and so I made up my mind to a thorough refusal.

9. To do this I must first speak to my confessor, the
doctor Velasquez, canon and professor in Toledo,' a
most learned and excellent man, now bishop of Osma;
for I am in the habit of never doing anything of my own
will, but only at the will of persons such as he is. When
he saw the letters and understood the matter he bade me
not to refuse, but to answer kindly; for if God made
so many hearts agree together on a thing it was plain He
intended to be served thereby. I did so, for I neither
accepted nor refused absolutely. Time passed on in
importuning me and in searching out those who might
persuade me to accept, till this year 1580, I all the while
thinking it folly to do so. When I made any reply
I never could reply altogether unfavourably.

10. The father Fray Antonio of Jesus happened to
come to the monastery of our Lady of Succour, which
lies three leagues from the town of Villanueva, there to
finish the term of his banishment."' He used to go and
preach there, and the prior of the monastery, who at this
time is the father Fray Gabriel of the Assumption,' a
most prudent man and servant of God, went also
frequently to the same place, for they were friends of
doctor Ervias, and began an acquaintance with these
saintly sisters. Attracted by their goodness, and persuaded by the people and the doctor, they took up the
matter as if it was their own, and began to persuade me,
writing very earnest letters; and when I was in S.
Joseph's in Malagon, which is twenty-six leagues and
further from Villanueva, the father prior himself came to
speak to me on the subject. He told me how it could
be done, and that, the monastery once founded, the
doctor Ervias would endow it with three hundred ducats
a year out of the revenues of the living he held; that
leave to do so could be had from Rome.'

11. This seemed to me very uncertain, for I thought
it might fail us after the foundation was made, yet with
the little which the sisters possessed it might be well
enough, and so I gave many reasons, and in my opinion
they were sufficient, to the father prior, to make him
see that it would never do to accept the monastery;
I said further that he must look well to it, he and father
Antonio; that I left it on their conscience, thinking that
what I had told them was enough to stop the matter.
When he had left I reflected on his great earnestness, and
thought he might prevail on Fray Angel de Salazar, our
present superior, to accept the monastery; and so
I wrote to Fray Angel immediately, begging him not to
grant his permission, telling him my reasons at the same
time. He wrote to me afterwards to say he would not
have granted it unless I wished it myself.

12. Six weeks, perhaps more, passed away; when
I. was now thinking I had put a stop to it they sent me
a messenger with very pressing letters from the two
fathers, as well as from the municipality, by which they
bound themselves to furnish whatever was necessary;
doctor Ervlas, too, undertaking to perform what I spoke
of before. My dread of receiving these sisters was very great; I thought they would be a faction banded together
against the sisters whom I might take thither, as it
usually happens, and also because I saw no certain means
of maintenance for them, for that which was offered was
not such as I was bound to accept: so I was in great
doubt. Afterwards I saw it was the work of Satan, for,
though our Lord had given me courage, I was then so
faint of heart that I seemed to have no trust in God at
all. The prayers, however, of those blessed souls
prevailed.

13. One day after communion, while I was commending the matter to God, as I was often doing â€” for
the reason why I answered favourably before was the
fear I had I might be hindering the progress of some
souls, for my desire ever is to help in any way to advance
the glory of our Lord and to increase the number of
His servants â€” His Majesty rebuked me severely, saying,
Where was the treasury that supplied the means for
the foundations already made ? ' I was to accept the house
without any misgiving: it would be greatly to His
honour and the progress of souls. So mighty are the
words of God, they not only enter the understanding,
but also enlighten it to see the truth and make the will
ready to act: so it was with me, for I was not only
glad to accept the monastery, but felt that I had been to
blame for holding back so lone, and clinging so much to
human considerations, seeing that His Majesty had done
so much for our holy order in ways undiscoverable by
reason.

14. Having resolved to accept the foundation, I
thought it right to go thither myself with the nuns who
were to remain there, and that for many reasons which
suggested themselves, though very much against my
inclination, for I was very ill when I came to Malagon, and
was so still. But, thinking I should please our Lord by
going, I wrote to the superior in order that he might
command as he should judge best. He sent the licence
for the foundation, with an order for me to go there
myself, and to take with me the nuns I preferred,' which
made me very anxious because they would have to live
with those who were there already. Earnestly commending the matter to our Lord, I took two nuns out of
the monastery of S. Joseph in Toledo, one of whom was
to be prioress, and two out of that at Malagon, one to be
sub-prioress; and, as we had prayed so much to our
Lord, the choice could not have been better, which
gave me no slight pleasure, for in the foundations begun
with nuns only from our monasteries everything falls
happily into its own place."

[Note:"The Saint had arrived in Malagon 25th November 1579. She
had gone from Toledo to Avila in July, 1577, where she remained in
the monastery of S. Joseph, given to the order by her during the
persecution, till 25th April 1579, when peace was restored. She now
visited the monasteries and consolidated her work, which had been
grievously threatened, and in some places shattered, by the oppressive
rule of the fathers of the mitigation. ]

[Note: The Saint, writing to Mother Mary of S. Joseph, prioress of
Seville, 1st February 1580, says that Fray Angel de Salazar had sent the
permission five days before, i.e. 28th January, and that she meant to
take with her as sub-prioress Elvira of San Angelo, professed in Malagon;
that the prioress was to be from Toledo, but she was then in doubt
whom she should choose. ]

[Note: The Saint had a general procession in the monastery to obtain
light for the purpose of choosing the nuns. With the sister Elvira she
took Anne of S. Augustine, and then, going with them and Anne of
S. Bartholomew, together with the friars who came for her, to Toledo,
she took from that monastery Maria of the Martyrs whom she appointed
prioress â€”not Anne of the Mother of God, as Ribera relates â€” and
Constance of the Cross ]

15. The father Fray Antonio of Jesus and the father prior
Fray Gabriel of the Assumption came to fetch us. The
city having furnished everything, we left Malagon on
the Saturday before Lent, 13th February 1580. It was
the pleasure of God to send us such fine weather, and
to me such health that I seemed as if I had never been
ill. I was amazed, and considered how important it is
for us never to think of our own infirmities when we are
employed in the service of our Lord, whatever the
difficulties before us may be, seeing that He is able to
make the weak strong and the sickly healthy; and
should He not do so it will be better for our soul if we
suffer and forget ourselves with our eyes fixed on His
honour and glory. Why are life and health given to us
but to be lost for so prand a King and Lord ? Believe
me, my sisters, no harm will ever befall you if you travel
on this road.

16. I confess myself that my wickedness and weakness
have put me very often in fear and doubt, but I cannot
call to mind any occasion since our Lord gave me the
habit of a barefooted Carmelite, nor for some years
before, in which, of His mere compassion. He did not
enable me by His grace to overcome these temptations,
and to venture upon that, however difficult it might be,
which I understood to be for His greater glory, I see
clearly that what I did myself was very little, but God
asks no more than a resolution of this kind to do everything Himself. May He be blessed and praised for
ever ! Amen.

17. We had to go to the monastery of our Lady of
Succour, already spoken of,"' which is three leagues
from Villanueva, and halt there to give warning of our
arrival, for so it had been settled, and it was only reasonable I should in everything obey the fathers with whom
we came. The monastery stands in a desert and most
pleasing solitude, and when we drew near the friars came
forth in great orderliness to receive their prior; as they
advanced barefooted in their coarse cloaks of serge they
moved all to devotion, and I was melted at the sight
exceedingly, for I thought I was living in the flourishing
age of our holy fathers. On that plain they looked as
white fragrant flowers, and so I believe they are in the
eyes of God, for in my opinion He is most truly served
there. They went into the church singing Te Demn in
a voice that betrayed their mortified lives. The church
is entered underground as through a cave, which figured
that of our father Elias. Certainly I went in with so
much inward joy that I would have looked on a much
longer journey as profitably made, though I was very
sorry for the death of the saint by whom our Lord
founded the house; I did not deserve to see her though
I desired it greatly.

18. I think it will not be a waste of time to say something in this place of her life, and how it came to pass that
our Lord would have the monastery founded which, as
I learn, has been of so much advantage to many souls
in the country round about. I do so that you, my
sisters, beholding the penance done by this saint, may see
how far we are behind her, and make efforts to serve our
Lord with renewed courage; for there is no reason why
we should do less than she did, seeing that we are
not sprung from so refined and noble a race, for, though
this be of no consequence, I speak of it because she once
lived in great comfort according to her rank, for she was
a child of the ducal house of Cardona, and was known
as Dona Catalina de Cardona.' When she had written
to me a certain number of times she signed herself
simply ' The Sinner.' How she lived before our Lord
bestowed on her graces so great they will tell you who
shall write her life, and more particularly the great things
that may be told of it: lest it should not come to your
knowledge, I will tell you what I have been told by
certain persons who have conversed with her, and who
deserve to be believed.

19. This holy woman, while living among great men
and ladies of high rank, was always careful about her
soul and did penance. Her desire of penance, and of
withdrawing into a place where in solitude she could have
the fruition of God and spend herself in doing penance
undisturbed by others, grew within her exceedingly.
She spoke of it to her confessors, and they would not
give their consent; but, as the world is now so very
discreet, and the great work of God wrought in His
saints, men and women, who serve Him in the deserts,
is almost forgotten, I am not surprised that they
thought her desire foolish; but, as His Majesty never
fails to further true desires to their end, He so ordered
it that she went to confession to a Franciscan friar.
Fray Francis de Torres," whom I knew very well and
look upon as a saint, who many years ago gave himself
with great fervour to penance and prayer, and he had to
endure much persecution. He must have been able if
any, to discern clearly the graces God bestows on those
who strive to be the recipients of them, and so he told
her she was not to hold back, but to obey the call of His
Majesty. I do not know whether these were his very
words or not, but it is the substance of them, for she
immediately executed her purpose.

20. She made herself known to a hermit who was
in Alcala, and begged him to go with her, and never
tell anybody. They came to the place where the
monastery stands; there she found a small cave, which
hardly held her, in which the hermit left her. But what
love must she have had ! for she did not think of any
means of finding food, nor of the dangers that might
ensue, nor of the evil speaking that would result from
her disappearance. Oh, how deeply must that holy soul
have drunk of the wine of God! So filled therewith
was she that she would have none to hinder her in
the fruition of the Bridegroom, so determined to love
the world no more, seeing that she thus ran away from
all its comforts. Let us consider it well, my sisters, and
mark how she conquered it all at one blow; for, though
what you do is not less than what she did when you
enter this holy order â€” when you offer your will to God,
and promise such lifelong enclosure â€” perhaps the first
fervours of some of us pass away, and we become
subject again in some things to our self-love. May His
Divine Majesty grant it be not so, and that we who
already are followers of this holy woman in seeking to
escape from the world, may be very far away from it in
everything in our hearts.

21. I have heard many details of the great austerity
of her life, and only the least portion thereof can be
known; for during the many years she dwelt in that
solitude with such earnest desires of doing penance, and
having no one to check her, she must have treated her
body fearfully. I will tell you what some persons have
heard her say herself, and among them the nuns of
S. Joseph in Toledo, when she went to see them. She
spoke openly as if they were sisters, and so she did to
other persons; for her simplicity was great, and her
humility must have been so too. As she was one who
knew that she was nothing in herself, she was very far
from vainglory, and had a pleasure in speaking of the
graces which God bestowed upon her, that through them
His name might be praised and glorified. This is
a dangerous proceeding for those who have not reached
her state, for it may seem in them, at least, to be praise
of self. Her openness and holy simplicity must have
saved her from that danger, for I never heard that this
imperfection was ever laid to her charge.

22. She said that she had been eight years in that cave,
living for many days together on the herbs of the field
and on roots; for when the three loaves were finished
which he who went with her to the cave left behind she
had nothing until a poor shepherd came to the place:' he
supplied her afterwards with bread and meal â€” that was her
food â€” cakes baked on embers, and nothing else, of which
she partook once in three days. And it is most true, as
the friars too who dwell there are witnesses; and at a later
time, when she was much wasted, they would make her
occasionally eat a sardine or something else, when she
went about seeking means to found a monastery; but
she felt it do her more harm than good. As for wine,
I never heard that she drank any. Her disciplines were
inflicted with a heavy chain, and frequently lasted two
hours and an hour and a half. The sackcloth she wore
was of the very coarsest kind, as I have learned from a
certain person, a woman who, returning from a pilgrimage,
Stayed with her one night, and, while feigning to be
asleep, saw her take off her sackcloth full of blood and
wash it.

23. What she had to bear from evil spirits was still
worse, as she told the nuns mentioned before; they
appeared to her as huge mastiffs, leaping on her
shoulders; at other times as serpents. She was not in
the least afraid of them. After she had founded the
monastery she went still to the cave, lived and slept in it,
and left it only to be present at the divine office. Before
that she went to mass in a monastery of the Mercedarians, a quarter of a league distant, and that sometimes on her knees. Her clothing was of kersey, with
a tunic of coarse cloth, and so fashioned that the people
thought she was a man. When those years were over
during which she lived so much alone it pleased our
Lord to make her known, and people out of devotion
began to visit her in such crowds as were more than she
could bear. She spoke to all with great charity and love.
As time went on the people thronged around her more
and more, and he who could have speech of her thought
much of it. She was so wearied herself that she said
they were killing her. There came a day when the
whole plain was full of carriages. Soon after the friars
were established, there was no help for it but they must
raise her up on high that she might give them her
blessing, and in that way get rid of them. When she
had been eight years in the cave â€” it was now larger in
size, for those who came to see her had made it so ' â€” she
had a most serious illness, and thought she should die of
it; and all this took place in that cave.

24. She began wishing for a monastery of friars in that
place, and did so for some time not knowing to which order
it should belong. On one occasion our Lord showed her
when she was in prayer before a crucifix which she always had
with her, a white mantle, and she understood it belonged
to the barefooted Carmelites. She had never heard that
there were such friars in the world, and at that time only
two monasteries had been founded, those of Mancera and
Pastrana." She must have obtained the knowledge
thereof after this; then, having learnt that there was
a monastery in Pastrana, and as she had been very
friendly in times past with the princess of Eboli, wife of
prince Ruy Gomez, to whom Pastrana belonged, she
set out for that place to find how she could have the
monastery she desired. There, in the monastery of
S. Peter, for that is its title, she took the habit of our
Lady",' not, however, with the intention of becoming
a nun and making her profession, for she never
had any inclination to be a nun, because our Lord was
leading her by another way; she thought that if she
were once under obedience they would thwart her in her
purpose of living austerely and in solitude.

25. In the presence of all the friars she received the
habit of our Lady of Carmel.' Father Mariano was
there at the time. I have spoken of him before in
the story of these foundations, and he told me myself
that he fell into a trance or rapture and lost all consciousness, and saw while in that state many friars and nuns
lying dead; some of them had their heads cut off, and
others their limbs and arms, as having suffered martyrdom;
for that is the meaning: of the vision. He is not a man
to say that he saw what he has not seen, neither is he in
the habit of falling into a trance, for that is not the
way by which God is leading him. Pray to God, my
sisters, that the vision may be true, and that we in our
day may deserve to behold so great a blessing, and be
ourselves among the martyrs.

26. In Pastrana the saintly Cardona began to seek the
means of founding a monastery, and in order to do so
went back to Madrid, out of which she had gone away
with so much joy, which was no slight torment to her;
and there she did not escape trouble or the tongue that
speaketh evil, for whenever she went abroad she could
not avoid the crowd; it was thus wherever she was.
Some cut off pieces from her habit, others from her
mantle. She went next to Toledo, where she remained
with our nuns. All of them assured me that there was
about her a fragrance as that of relics, so strong that it
moved them to give thanks to our Lord; it clung even
to her habit and her girdle which she left behind, for
they took her habit from her and gave her another;
and the nearer they came to her the more strongly did
they perceive it, though her dress, owing to the heat
which then prevailed, was of a kind to be offensive
rather than otherwise. I know they would not say
anything that was not in every way true; they had
a great veneration for her. At the court and other
places people gave her the means to found the monastery,
and when she had the licence it was founded.

27. The church was built where her cave was, and
another was made for her on one side having in it
a solid tomb. There she remained both night and day
during the remainder of her life. That was not long, for she lived only about five years and a half after the
foundation of the monastery; it seems supernatural, and
indeed so does her former life, considering how severe
it was. She died in the year 1577, as I find now. The
solemnities of her burial were very grand, for a noble
man of the name of Don Juan de Leon " had a great
veneration for her and insisted on it. She is now lying
in a chapel of our Lady, to whom she was so extremely
devout, but only for a time, till a larger church than the
one they have at present shall be built, as only fitting to
contain her blessed body.

28. The monastery on her account is a place of great
devotion, which still continues, and so is the whole
neighbourhood, especially on account of the desert and
the cave where she lived. Before she resolved on
building the monastery I have been told on good
authority that she used to be worn and wearied at the sight
of the great crowds that came to see her, that she wanted
to go to some other place where nobody knew anything about her, and that she sent for the hermit who
brought her thither to take her away, but he was then
dead. Our Lord, who had ordained that a house should
be built there for our Lady, would not let her depart,
for I see, as I said before, that He is greatly served
there. The friars are in marvellous dispositions, and
their countenances show plainly what a joy they have
in being thus separated from the world, especially the
prior," whom God had taken away from many comforts
that he might wear the habit, and whom He thus amply
rewarded by giving him the comfort of His Spirit. He
showed me much affection there. They gave us some
of the furniture of their church for use in that which we
were going to found; for, as the saintly woman was
held in great respect by so many persons of note, their
church was well supplied with its furniture.

29. During my stay there I was greatly comforted,
though to my exceeding great shame, and the shame lasts,
because I saw that she who there had borne so sharp
a penance was a woman like myself, and more tenderly
nurtured, for she was of a nobler race, and not so great
a sinner as I am; on this subject there is no comparison
possible between us, for I received much greater graces
from our Lord in many ways, and that I am not this
moment in hell for my great sins is a very great one.
To follow in her steps, if I can, is my only comfort;
but that is not much, for all my life has been wasted in
desires; as for works I have none." May God of His
compassion succour me, in whom I have always put
my trust, for the sake of His Most Holy Son and the
Virgin our Lady, whose habit, by the goodness of our
Lord, I wear !

30. One day after Communion in that hallowed church
I became profoundly recollected, and fell into a trance
in which my senses were withheld. In that trance I
saw the holy woman as a glorious body by an intellectual
vision. There were angels with her; she told me not
to grow faint, but strive to go on with these foundations.
I understand thereby, though she did not say so expressly,
that she helped me before God. She also told me something else, but there is no reason why I should repeat it
here. I was very much comforted, and had a desire to
labour; and I hope, in the goodness of our Lord, that,
with such good help as her prayers are, I may be able to
serve Him in some measure. You see now, my sisters,
that her troubles are over already, and that the bliss she
is in has no end. Let us strive now for the love of
our Lord, to follow this our sister: hating ourselves as
she hated herself, we shall finish our journey, for everything passes rapidly away and comes to an end.

31. On the first Sunday in Lent â€” it was the eve of
the feast of the Chair of S. Peter, and the feast of
S. Barbatian, 1580 â€” we reached Villanueva de la
Jara. On that very day the Most Holy Sacrament was
brouo;ht into the church of the orlorious S. Anne at
the time of high mass. The whole municipality and
certain others with doctor Ervias, came forth to receive
us, and we alighted at the church of the town, which is
somewhat distant from that of S. Anne.

32. The joy of the people was so great that it filled
me with consolation at beholding their pleasure in
receiving the order of the Most Holy Virgin our Lady.
When we were yet far away we heard the ringing of the
bells, and on our entering the church they began the
Te Teum one verse sung by the choristers accompanied
by the organ, the other played on the organ. That
done they carried the Most Holy Sacrament on a bier,
and on another our Lady, with crosses and banners.
The procession moved on in great pomp; we, in our
white mantles, and faces veiled, were in the middle near
the Most Holy Sacrament, and close to us our barefooted
friars, who had come in great numbers from their
monastery; + the Franciscans â€” for there is a monastery
of S. Francis there â€” went also, and a Dominican who
was in the place, and though he was alone it gave me
pleasure to see that habit there.

33. As the distance was great, many altars had been
raised. The procession halted at times, when something
was sung about our order, which moved me to great
devotion: " so also did it to see that it was all in praise
of the great God there present, and that so much was
done for us seven poor Discalced nuns who were there.
Nevertheless, when I reflected upon it I was filled with
confusion, remembering that I was among them, and
that everyone there ought to have turned against me if
they would but have treated me as I deserve. I have
given you at such length this account of the honour
done to the habit of our Lady, that you may give thanks
to our Lord and beseech Him to make use of this
foundation, for I have a greater joy when a foundation
is made under persecution and with trouble, and I speak
of them the more willingly.

34. It is true the sisters who were already there
had been in trouble for nearly six years â€” at least for
more than the five years and a half which have gone by since
they went into this house of the glorious S. Anne. I do
not speak of their poverty and toil in earning their food,
for they never would ask alms; the reason of that was
that they would not have their neighbours think they
were there to be supported by them; neither do I speak
of their great penance, of their long fasts, of their scanty
food, of their hard beds, and of the small house which,
in the strict enclosure they always observed, was hard
enough to bear. What was hardest to bear, they told
me, was the earnest longing they had to put on the habit,
and which was a most grievous torment to them night and
day, for they thought they were never to wear it; and
accordingly their constant prayer, and that most
frequently with tears, was that God would bestow that
grace upon them. When they saw any difficulty arise
they were distressed beyond measure, and multiplied
their penances. They stinted themselves in their food,
that out of their earnings they might have the means of
paying the messengers who came to me, and of showing
what gratitude they could in their poverty to those who
were able to help them in any way. I see clearly myself
ever since I conversed with them and saw how saintly
they were, that they must have obtained their admission
into the order by their prayers and tears, and so I looked
on the possession of such souls as these as a much
greater treasure than a rich endowment, and my hope is
the house will prosper greatly.

35. When we entered the house they were standing
at the door within, each of them dressed as usual, for
they were dressed as they were when they first came,
and would never put on the habit of beatas, hoping for
ours; what they wore, however, was most modest, and
showed plainly how little thought they had taken for
themselves; they were so poorly clad, and almost all of
them so thin, as to show that they had been living
a most penitential life. They received us with tears of
great joy, and those tears were certainly not feigned.
Their great virtue shone forth in their joy, in their
humility, and in their obedience to the prioress and to
all those who came to make the foundation; they could not
do enough to please them. All the fear they had was
lest the nuns should go back when they saw their
poverty and the smallness of the house. Not one of
them had ever exercised any authority over another, but
each one had with great affection laboured to the utmost
of her strength. Two of them, and they were the
eldest, managed all their affairs when necessary; the
rest never spoke to anybody, and would not do so.
The door of the house had a bolt only, no lock, and the
eldest answered at it; none of the others ventured near it.
They slept very little that they might earn their bread
and not miss their prayer, in which they spent many
hours â€” on festivals the whole day.

26. They directed themselves by means of the books
of Fray Luis of Granada and of Fray Peter of Alcantara.
Most of the time was spent in saying the divine office â€”
they could hardly read it; one only could read well â€”
and that in breviaries that differed one from another;
some of these, being of the old Roman form," had been
given them by certain ecclesiastics who used them no
longer, others they had got anyhow, and, as they did not
know how to read, they spent many hours upon them.
They did not say the office where strangers could hear
them; God accepted their intention and toil, but they
must have said very little that was correct. When the
father Fray Antonio of Jesus began to know them he
made them say the office of our Lady only. They had
an oven in which they baked their bread, and everything
was orderly done, as if they had some one to give
directions. The effect on me was to make me give
thanks to our Lord, and the more I conversed with them
the more glad I was that I had come. I believe that,
whatever difficulties I might have had to undergo, I
should not have shrunk from them to bring consolation
to these souls."' Those of my companions who remained
told me that in the beginning, during the first days,
they were conscious of a certain unwillingness to live
with them, but that when they came to know them, and
saw how good they were, they were very glad to stay,
and conceived a great affection for them. Sanctity and
goodness can do great things.

37. The truth is, those who came with me were so
good that, even if they met with many difficulties and
trials, they would have borne all nobly by the grace of
our Lord, for they desire to suffer in His service;
and that sister who does not feel this desire must not
look upon herself as a true Carmelite nun, because the
aim of our desires must be, not rest but suffering, that
we may in some measure be like unto Him our true
bridegroom. May it please His Majesty to give us
His grace for that end ! Amen.

38. The hermitage of S. Anne began in this way.
There lived here in Villanueva de la Jara, an ecclesiastic
born in Zamora, who had been a friar of the order of
our Lady of Carmel. His name was Diego de
Guadalajara; he had a devotion to the glorious S. Anne,
and so he made this hermitage close to his house, and
thereby had an opportunity of hearing mass. He went
to Rome because of this great devotion, and obtained
a bull for many indulgences in this church and hermitage.

[Note: On the feast of S. Mathias, 25th February, the Saint gave the
habit to the nine women (see Â§ 7) who had shut themselves up in the
hermitage of S. Anne. The sermon on the occasion was preached by
Fray Antonio of Jesus.]

He was a pious and interior man. He made a will
when he was dying, and gave this house and all that
belongs to it for a monastery of nuns of our Lady of
Carmel; and if that could not be done, then for a
chaplain who was to say certain masses every week,
but that as soon as and whenever the monastery should
be founded there should be no obligation to say those
masses. For more than twenty years the hermitage
belonged to the chaplain, and the property was ruined,
for, though the women took possession of the house,
they had nothing but the house. The chaplain lived in
another belonging to the chapel, which he will now give
up to us with the rest, and that is very little; but the
compassion of God is so great that He will not tail to
befriend the house of His glorious grandmother. May
it please His Majesty to be ever served therein, and
may all creatures praise Him for ever and ever !
Amen.

J. H. S.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

Treats Of The Foundation Of S. Joseph Of Our Lady Of La
Calle In Palencia, On The Feast Of King David, Ln The
Year 1580

I. â€” The Saint unwilling to undertake the new foundation. â€” 2. She is
discouraged. â€” 3. And in trouble about it. â€” 4. She consults Father
Ripalda. â€” 5. Discouragement. â€” 6. But is encouraged by our Lord.
â€” 7. And begins the foundation. â€” 8. Takes possession. â€” 9. And
makes the foundation. â€” 10. She seeks a house for the nuns. â€” 11. Is
shown one. â€” 12. Which she disapproves of â€” I 3. And treats for the
purchase of others. â€” 14. Device of Satan. â€” 15. Effect of the
divine locution. â€” 16. The Saint refers to her confessor. â€” 17. She
reveals the locution to the canon. â€” 18. The Saint's joy in the new
house. â€” 19, Special providence of God. â€” 20. The houses are
bought. â€” 21. By the two canons. â€” 22. Fruits of the monastery. â€”
23. The Saint takes possession of the new house. â€” 24. The
reform established. â€” 25. Joy of the Saint at the separation from
the Fathers of the Mitigation. â€” 26. Danger of slight relaxation.

When I came away from making the foundation of
Villanueva de la Jara' I was ordered by my superior to go
to Valladolid; it was at the request of the bishop of Palencia,
Don Alvaro de Mendoza, who accepted and at all times
helped the first monastery, that of S. Joseph, Avila,
and always does help us in whatever concerns the
order.3 When he had given up the see of Avila, being
translated to Palencia, our Lord put it into his heart to
have a monastery of this holy order founded there.
On my arrival in Valladolid I became so seriously ill
that they thought I must die.' I was so unwilling to
make the foundation, and so far from thinking I could
do anything, that, notwithstanding the importunity of
the prioress of our monastery in Valladolid, who wished
much to see the foundation made, I could not persuade
myself to undertake it; neither had I the means to
begin it, for the monastery was to be founded in
poverty, and I was told that it could not be maintained,
because the place was very poor.

2. This foundation, with that of Burgos, had been
under consideration for nearly a year, and heretofore
I was not so unwilling to make it; then, however, when
I had gone to Valladolid for no other end, I found that
the disadvantages of it were many. I know not whether
this came from my illness and the weakness it left me in,
or from the devil, who wanted to hinder the good that
was afterwards done. In truth, I am lost in amazement
and grief â€” and I have often complained of it to our
Lord â€” at the great share which the poor soul has in
the weakness of the body, for it seems to have nothing
to do but to observe its laws according to its needs, and
anything else which makes it suffer.

[Note: The year 1580 witnessed an universal outbreak of influenza so that
it became known as el aho del catarro. S. Teresa who already in
February of that year had complained of being ' quite broken down and
old' was attacked by the disease when at Valladolid in the autumn, and
narrowly escaped death. Although, on 4th October, she wrote to Father
Gratian that her health is good, her appetite better, and that she
gradually is regaining her strength, she never fully recovered; her
complexion, hitherto fresh and healthy, became changed and she bore
henceforth visible traces of old age. ]

3. One of the greatest trials and miseries of this life
seems to me to be the absence of a grand spirit to keep
the body under control; illnesses and grievous afflictions,
though they are a trial, I think nothing of if the soul is
strong, for it praises God, and sees that everything
comes from His hand. But to be on the one hand
suffering, and on the other doing nothing, is to be in
a fearful state especially for a soul that has had earnest
desires never to rest inwardly or outwardly, but to spend
itself wholly in the service of its great God; there is
no help for it but in patience and confessing its wretchedness, and in being resigned to the will of God, so that
He may use it for what purposes He pleases, and as He
pleases. This was the state I was in then: though my
strength had begun to come back, yet such was my weakness that I lost that confidence I usually had when I had
to begin any of these foundations. I thought everything
impossible, and it would have been of great service to me
if I could have found any one to encourage me; but,
as it was, some helped me to be afraid; others, though
they made me hope a little, could not overcome my
faint-heartedness.

4. At that time came thither a father of the society,
the doctor Ripalda, a great servant of God, who at one
time used to hear my confession. I told him the state
I was in, and that I looked upon him as standing to me
in the place of God â€” he must tell me what he thought
of it. He began by rousing my courage, and told me
that my cowardice was the effect of old age; but I saw
well enough it was not, for I am older to-day and I
feel none of it; and he too must have known it was not,
and therefore rebuked me in that way that I might not
think it came from God.

5. The foundation of Palencia and that of Burgos
were then carried on together, and I was without means
for the one and the other; but this was not the cause
of my discouragement, for I usually begin with less.
He bade me give it up on no account, and the same thing
had been said to me before in Toledo by a provincial of
the society, Baltasar Alvarez, but I was then in good
health. That was enough to make me resolved on
going on; and yet, though I was very much moved by
it, I was not altogether resolved, because either the
devil, or, as I have just said, my illness held me back;
however, I became much more willing to go on. The
prioress of Valladolid did all she could to help me,
for she wished much for the foundation in Palencia,
but she also had her fears when she saw me so lukewarm.
Now let the true fire come â€” for nobody, not even the
servants of God, could give me courage â€” and it is done;
and that will show it was generally not I who did anything in these foundations, but He only who is almighty.

6. One day, still in doubt, and not determined on
making either of the foundations, I implored our Lord,
when I had just received communion, to give me light
that I might in all things do His will: for my lukewarmness was not such as to make me falter for a
moment in that desire. Our Lord said to me, as it
were reproaching me, ' What art thou afraid of ? When
did I ever fail thee ? I am to-day what I have always
been; do not give up these two foundations.' O the
great God, how different are Thy words from the words
of men ! So my courage and resolution came, the
whole world was not strong enough to oppose me, and
I began at once to make my preparations, and our Lord
to furnish the means."

7. I received two nuns, that we might have wherewithal to buy a house; and, though they told me it was
not possible to live by alms in Palencia, it was as if they
said nothing, for as to founding it with an endowment
I saw it could not be done then, and as God commanded
it to be made His Majesty would see to that. Accordingly, though I had not quite recovered my health,
I made up my mind to go, though the weather was rough,
for I left Valladolid on the feast of the Innocents in the
year already mentioned, ' for a nobleman who lived there,
having gone to live elsewhere, had given us until Midsummer " in the following year a house he had hired.
I wrote to a canon of that city, though I did not know
him; but a friend of his had told me that he was
a servant of God, and I had a firm persuasion he would
be a great help to us, because our Lord himself â€” it has
been so in the other foundations â€” finds everywhere
some one to help us, because His Majesty knows
how little I can do myself. I sent to the canon before
him to have the house ' emptied for us as secretly as he
could, for some one was staying in it whom he was not
to tell what it was wanted for: notwithstanding that
some of the chief persons there had shown their good
will, and the bishop very much so, I looked on it as
being much safer to let nobody know of the matter.

8. The canon Reinoso ' â€” it was to him I wrote â€” did
this work so well that he had not only had the house
made ready for us but beds also, with many comforts
abundantly supplied; and we had need of all, for it was
very cold, and the day before had been toilsome because
of a thick fog in which we could scarcely see one another.
In truth, we had hardly any rest till we had made
everything ready for saying mass the next morning." I
would have that done before anybody knew we were
there, because I have found that to be the best way in
making these foundations,' for if we begin to consult
people Satan disturbs everything; however, he cannot
succeed, but he gives trouble. So it was done; for
early in the morning when it was scarcely dawn, mass
was said by a priest who came with us, named Porras,
a great servant of God, with us was also a friend of the
nuns of Valladolid, Agustin de Vitoria,' who had lent me
money to furnish the house, and who had been a great
comfort to us on the road.

[Note: Don Jerome de Reinoso, nephew of Don Francis de Reinoso, who
became bishop of Cordova; he had been trained in the spiritual
life by Father Baltasar Alvarez. He died 20th December 1599. ]

[Note: The Saint had not been able to get the consent of the corregidor,
don Prudencio, and Fray Jerome of the Mother of God went to him
the second time on the part of the Saint to ask for it. The corregidor
said, ' Well, father, let her have what she asks for. The mother Teresa
must be in possession of some decree of the royal council of God, which
compels us to do her will whether we like it or not.]

9. We came here five nuns,' and a lay sister' who
for some time has been with me as my companion, but
she is so great a servant of God and so provident, that
she is able to help me more than any other. That night
we had but little sleep, though the journey, as I said,
had been fatiguing because of the rain. It was a joy to
me that the foundation was made on the day on which
the feast of king David is kept, for I have a devotion to
him."' I sent immediately in the morning a message to
the bishop, for he did not even know that I had arrived
that day. He came to us at once with the great
affection which he has always had for us; he told us he
should give us all the bread we should require, and gave
his steward orders to furnish many things. The order
owes him so much that every one who shall read the
story of these foundations is bound to pray to our Lord
for him, living and dead; and I ask to have it done as
an act of charity. The joy shown by the people was so
great and so general as to make it very remarkable, for
there was no one who took it amiss. It was known that
the bishop wished it, and that was a help to us, for he
is greatly beloved there; but the whole population is
the best and noblest I have seen, and accordingly I
rejoice more and more every day that I have made a
foundation there.

10. As the house was not our own, we began at once to
treat for the purchase of another, for though that we
were in was for sale, it was very badly placed, and I
thought, with the help I should have from the nuns who
were to live in it, I might treat with some security, for,
though that was but little, it was much for that place.
After all, if God had not sent us the good friends He
gave us it would have been all to no purpose. The
good canon Reinoso brought with him another friend, the
canon Salinas," a man of great charity and discernment,
and between them both the matter was looked after just
as if it was their own, and I believe with more zeal; and
they have been always friends of this house.

11. There was a building in the town, a hermitage
devoutly frequented, dedicated to our Lady, with the
title of our Lady of the Street. It is a very holy place
in the eyes of the whole country and of the town itself,
and many people resort to it. It seemed to his lordship
and to everybody that we should be well placed close to
that church. There was no house belonging to it, but
there were two adjoining it, which, if we bought them,
would be enough for us if we had the church also. This
the chapter and a certain confraternity would have to
give up to us, and accordingly we began to take steps
for obtaining it. The chapter at once gave it to us as
a gift, and, though I had some trouble in coming to an
understanding with the members of the confraternity,
they did so also; for, as I have said before, the people of
the place are good, and I have nowhere seen better.

12. When the owners of the houses saw that we
wished to get them they raised the price, and very reasonably so. I would go and see them, but they seemed to me
and to those who went with us so poor that I would not
have them on any account. Later on I saw clearly that
Satan, on his part, exerted himself because it vexed him
that we were come. The two canons who helped us
thought we should be there at too great a distance from
the cathedral church, yet it was the most thickly peopled
part of the town. In a word, we all made up our minds,
as that house would not suit, to look for another. This
the two canons began to do with such care and diligence
that I gave thanks to our Lord, and neglected nothing
they thought to the purpose. They were satisfied at last
with a house belonging to a person they call Tamayo.
Some parts of it were very well arranged, so that it was
exceedingly convenient for us, and it stood near the
house of a great nobleman, Suero de Vega, who was
a great friend of ours, and who, with others living in
that part of the town, was very much pleased at our
going to live there. The house was not large enough,
but another would be given us with it, which, however,
was not so placed that we could well join the one to the
other.

13. In short, they gave such an account of the matter
that I wished the purchase to be made, but the two
canons would not settle anything before I saw the place
myself. I felt the going out among people very keenly,
and I had so much confidence in them as to make it
unnecessary. At last I went, and also to see the houses
by the church of our Lady, though not with the intention of taking them, but to hinder the owner of the
other house from thinking that we could not help taking
his. To me, and to those who went with me to see
them, they looked so wretched, as I said before, but we
are now astonished that we could have thought so
badly of them. In this mind we went to the other
house, being fully determined to take it, and none other;
and, though we found many difficulties, we made light
of them, notwithstanding the great trouble we should
have in overcoming them, for all that part of it which
was fitted for our living in would have to be pulled down
in order to build the church, and after all an inconvenient
one. A strange thing this predetermination to do a
particular thing ! in truth, it taught me to have little
confidence in myself, though I was not alone in my then
delusion. In a word, we went away fully resolved that
no other would do for us, and to give the money asked,
which was too much, and to write to the owner, for he
was not in the town; he was, however, not far off.

14. This long account of the purchase of a house will
seem foolish until we consider the object which Satan
must have had, that we should not go to that of our
Lady; and I tremble whenever I think of it. All
having made up their mind, as I said before, to take no
other house but that, the next morning during mass
I beg;an to be very anxious, doubting if we had done
right, and ill at ease, so that I had hardly any peace during
the whole of mass. I went to receive the Most Holy
Sacrament, and at the moment of communion I heard
these words, ' This is the house for thee,' in such a
way that I made up my mind at once not to take the
other house at all of which I was thinking, but that of
our Lady. I began to consider the difficulties of withdrawing from a bargain which had been carried so far,
and which they who had so carefully considered it wished
so much to see settled, and our Lord answered me,
'They do not know how much I am offended in that
place, and this will be a great reparation.' I thought it
was no delusion, but I did not believe; yet I knew well,
by the effect it had upon me, that it was the Spirit of
God. He said to me at once, 'It is I.'

15. I became perfectly calm, delivered from my former
uneasiness, though I did not know how to undo what
had been done, and to remove the evil impression given
to my sisters of that house; for I had spoken strongly
of the unfitness of it, and that I would not have them go
there without seeing it for anything in the world. However, I did not think so much about this, for I was well
aware that they would take in good part whatever
I did; but my doubts were about those who wished
to have the other house. These would look on me,
I thought, as capricious and uncertain, seeing that I
changed so quickly â€” what I hate exceedingly. All this
thinking had no influence whatever, much or little, to
make me give up the house of our Lady, neither did
I remember that it was not a good house; for if the nuns
could hinder but one venial sin everything else was of
no moment, and every one of them, if they only knew
what I knew, would have been, I believe, of the same
mind.

16. I had recourse to this â€” I used to go to confession
to the canon Reinoso, who was one of two who befriended me, though I had never told him anything of
the kind before, because nothing had happened to make
it necessary for me to do so; and, as I have been
accustomed when these spiritual visitations occur always
to do that which my confessor may advise, in order that
I might travel on the safe road, I determined to tell him
all as a great secret, though my mind was not made up
to leave undone what I had been told to do, without
a feeling of great pain. I would have ended, however,
by doing what he told me, for I trusted in our Lord
that He would do again what I have known Him do at
other times, for His Majesty changes the confessor's
mind, though of another opinion, so that he shall do
what our Lord wills.

17. I spoke to him first of the many times that our
Lord was wont to show me in this way what to do, and
that before now many things had happened whereby
I knew it to be the work of His Spirit, and then told
him what had taken place; but still I would do what
he desired, though it might be painful. He was a most
prudent and saintly man, and endowed with the gift of
good counsel in everything, but he is young, and, though
he saw that this change would be talked about, his
decision was not that I should refrain from doing- what
I had learnt. I told him we should wait for the return
of the messenger, and he thought so too, for I was now
confident that God would find a way out of it; and so it
came to pass, for the owner of the house, though we
had given for it what he wanted and had asked for, now
asked three hundred ducats more, which seemed absurd,
for the sum to be paid was more than the house was
worth. Herein we saw the hand of God, for the sale
of the house was very serviceable to its owner, and to
ask for more when the bargain had been made was not
reasonable. This helped us exceedingly, and we said
we could never agree with him; but it was not enough
to excuse us, because it was plain that for the sake of
three hundred ducats we ought not to give up a house
that seemed fit for a monastery. I told my confessor
not to trouble himself about my good name now that he
thought I ought to do it, but merely to say to his friend
that I was bent on buying the house of our Lady,
whether it might be dear or cheap, in good or in bad
repair. His friend has a singularly quick understanding,
and, though nothing was said to him, I believe he guessed
the reason when he saw so sudden a change, and
accordingly he never pressed me further in the
matter.

18. We all saw afterwards the mistake we might have
made in buying that house, for we are now amazed when
we consider how much better is the one we have, to say
nothing of the chief thing of all, and which everybody
sees, the service of our Lord and of His glorious Mother
therein, and the removal of occasions of sin, for nightly
vigils were kept there, and therefore, as it was only
a hermitage, many things might have been done there,
the hindering of which was a vexation to Satan, and we
ourselves are glad to be able to serve our Mother, our
Lady, our Protectress in anything. It was very ill done
on our part not to have gone there sooner, for we ought
never to have looked at any other house. It is plain
enough that the devil makes us blind to many things,
for there are many conveniences in the house which we
should not have found elsewhere; the people, too,
wished us to take it, and their joy is exceedingly great;
and even those who would have us go to the other house
afterwards looked on this as much the best.

19. Blessed be He for ever and ever who gave me
light herein ! â€” and He does so whenever I happen to do
anything well; for every day I am amazed more and
more at the little ability I have for anything. This must
not be understood as humility, for I see it to be so more
clearly day by day. It seems to be our Lord's good
pleasure that I and everybody else shall learn that it is His
Majesty alone who makes these foundations, and that, as
He by means of clay gave sight to the blind," so He
will have one blind as I am not to act blindly. Certainly
we showed great blindness in this matter, as I said before,
and whenever I think of it I give thanks anew to our
Lord, only even to do this I am not able, and I do not
know how people can bear me. Blessed be His compassion
for ever ! Amen.

20. Those saintly friends of the Virgin then made
haste at once to purchase the houses, and they had them
cheap in my opinion. They laboured hard, for in every
one of these foundations God would have those who
helped us to gain merit, and I am the one who does
nothing, as I have elsewhere said, and wish never to
refrain from saying, because it is true. Then, the help
they gave us in arranging the house, and also in paying
the money for it, and in becoming our sureties also, as
I had no money myself, was very great, for before
I found any to be sureties for us in other places, and
that for not so large a sum, I was put to great trouble;
and they were right, for if they did not trust in our Lord
they would not have done so, because I have no means.
But His Majesty has always been so gracious unto me
that nobody lost anything by doing me that kindness at
any time, nor have I ever failed to repay them fully, and
I look upon that as a very great grace.

21. As the owners of the house were not satisfied with
the two canons as sureties, these went in search of the
steward, whose name was Prudencio; but I do not
know that my recollection of his name is exact â€” so they
called him now â€” for as he was called the steward I did
not learn his name. He was so charitable to us that
our debt to him was and is great. He asked them
whither they were going: they answered, to find him.
that he might sign the bond. He laughed and said,
' So this is the way you ask me to become security for so
much money ? ' And thereupon, without dismounting
from his mule, he signed, which is a wonderful thing
for these times. I should like to speak much in praise
of the charity of the people of Palencia, of all together
and of each in particular: the truth is, it seemed to me
like that of the primitive church â€” at least it is not very
common in the world now; they knew we had no
revenue, and that they would have to find us food, and
yet they not only did not forbid us to come to them, but
declared our coming to be a very great grace which
God gave them; and if it be looked at in the true light
they spoke truly, for, if it did no more than give them
another church, wherein the Most Holy Sacrament had
another house, that is a great thine.

22. May He be blessed for ever, amen ! for it is plain
enough that He is pleased to be here, and that something wrong which must have been done in the place is
done no longer â€” for as much people kept vigil here
formerly, and as the hermitage was lonely, every one that
came did not come out of devotion â€” that is a change
for the better. The image of our Lady was in a most
unseemly place. The bishop, Don Alvaro de Mendoza,
built a chapel for it, and by degrees much was done for
the honour and glory of the glorious Virgin and of her
Son. Praise Him for ever ! Amen, amen.

23, At last, when the house was fully prepared for
the nuns to go into it, the bishop would have them go
with great solemnity, and accordingly it was done one
day within the octave of Corpus Christi; he came himself from Valladolid, and was attended by the chapter,
the religious orders, and almost the whole population
of the place, to the sound of music. We went from
the house in which we were staying, all of us in procession, in our white mantles, with veiled faces, to the
parish church, close to the house of our Lady. Her
image had come for us, and we took the Most Holy
Sacrament thence and carried it into our church in great
pomp and order, which stirred up much devotion.
There were more nuns, for those who were going to
make the foundation in Soria were there; and we
all had candles in our hands. I believe our Lord was
greatly honoured that day in that place. ' May He
grant it may be always so of all creatures ! Amen.

24. When I was in Palencia it pleased God to make
a separation of the friars of the reform from the friars of
the mitigation, each division to be a province by itself,
which is all that we desired for our own peace and
quietness.3 On the petition of Don Philip, our
Catholic king, a most ample brief was brought from
Rome for the purpose, and his majesty helped us in the
end as he had in the beginning. A chapter was held in
Alcala under the presidency of a reverend father, Fray Juan de las Cuevas, then prior in Talavera. He is of
the order of S. Dominic, and was appointed in Rome on
the nomination of the king: a most holy and prudent
man, as it was necessary he should be for such a work
as this. The cost was borne by the king, and at his
command the whole university helped the friars. The
chapter was held in great peace and concord in the
college of S. Cyril of the barefooted Carmelites,"
which we possess there. The father-master FrayJerome Gratian of the Mother of God was elected
provincial.

25. But, as these fathers will give an account of this
elsewhere, there is no reason why I should meddle with
it. I have spoken of it because it was while I was
occupied with this foundation that our Lord did a work
that touched so nearly the honour and glory of His
glorious Mother, our Lady and Patroness as she is, for
the order is hers, and gave to me one of the greatest
joys and pleasures that I could have in this life, for
I had been for more than twenty-five years in trouble,
persecution, and distress, too long to speak of; our
Lord alone can know of them. Then to see the end of
it all ! No one, unless he knows the trouble I underwent, can tell the joy that I had in my heart, and the
desire I had that all the world should give thanks to our
Lord, and that we should pray to Him for our holy
king Don Philip, whom God made use of to bring
everything to so happy an end, for the devil had been so
cunning that the order would have been overthrown but
for the king.

26. Now we are all in peace, friars of the mitigation
and friars of the reform, no one hinders us in the service
of our Lord. Therefore, my brethren and sisters, make
haste to serve His Majesty, who has so abundantly
heard our prayers. Let those who are now alive, who
have seen these things with their own eyes, consider
His graciousness unto us, and the troubles and disquiet
from which He has delivered us; and let those who are
to come after us, who will find everything easy, for the
love of our Lord never allow any observance tending to
perfection to fall into disuse. Let them never give men
occasion to say of them what is said of some orders,
' Their beginning was praiseworthy ' â€” and we are
beginning now â€” but let them strive to go on from good to
better. Let them consider that the devil, by means of
very slight relaxations, makes an opening by which
very great ones may creep in. Let it never happen
to them to say, 'This is nothing â€” these are extremes.'
O my daughters, everything is important if it does not
help us onwards. I beseech you for the love of our
Lord to keep in mind how soon everything passes away,
and how good our Lord has been to us in bringing us to
the order, and how severely she shall be punished who
shall be the first to be lax in anything. Do you direct
your eyes to the race of those holy prophets from whom we
are descended â€” what saints we have in heaven who wore
this habit ! Let us dare with a holy boldness, by the
grace of God, to be ourselves like unto them. The
fight, my sisters, will be but for a moment, and the issue
is for ever. Let us leave alone those things which are
nothing, and attend to those which bring us near to
Him who is our end, to serve and love Him more and
more, for He will be for ever and ever. Amen, amen.

Thanks be to God !

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

The Foundation Of The Monastery Of The Most Holy Trinity
In Soria, In The Year 1581. The First Mass Said On
The Feast Of Our Father S. Eliseus

I. Don Alonso Velasquez. â€” 2. The Saint consents to found in Soria. â€”
3. Story of the foundress of Soria. â€” 4. Preparations for the
journey. â€” 5. Nicholas of Jesus-Mary. â€” 6. The journey. â€” 7.
The arrival. â€” 8. The Saint takes possession. â€” 9. Infirmity of the
bishop. â€” 10. His meritorious life.â€” 11. The real founder
of Soria. â€” 12. Pedro de Ribera. â€” -13. Hardships on the road.
14. The Saint's hopes of the monastery.

When I was in Palencia, on the business of the
foundation now described, I received a letter from
Dr. Velasquez, bishop of Osma; I had had relations
with him when he was canon and professor in the
cathedral of Toledo, and when I was harassed by certain
misgivings, for I knew he was a most learned man and
a great servant of God, and so after many importunities
I persuaded him to take upon himself the care of
my soul, and to hear my confession. Notwithstanding his many occupations, yet, because I begged
him for the love of God to do it, and because he saw
what straits I was in, he consented so readily that I was
surprised, and he confessed and directed me all the time
I remained in Toledo, which was long enough. I laid
before him the state of my soul with exceeding plainness,
as I am in the habit of doing. The service he rendered
me was so very great that from that moment my misgivings began to lessen. The truth is, there was another
reason, not to be told here. Nevertheless, he really did
me a great service, for he made me feel safe by means
of passages from the Holy Scripture, which is a way
that has most effect upon me when I am certain that he
who speaks understands it, and is also of good life:
I was certain of both in his case.

[Note: Don Alonso Velasquez heard the confession of the Saint during
her stay in Toledo after the foundation of her monastery in Seville.
He was born in Tudela de Duero, and was successively bishop of
Osma and archbishop of Compostella, He made on foot the visitation
of Osma, and, worn out by the gout and other infirmities, he begged
permission to resign Compostella. Don Philip II would consent to the
resignation only on condition of his naming two persons whom he judged
fit to be made archbishops. He did so, and the king chose one of the
two, and proposed him to the Pope. As Don Alonso was poor, the
king asked him what pension was to be assigned from the revenues of
the see for his own use. He said that for himself, two chaplains, and
two servants a thousand ducats would suffice. The king insisted on the
assignation of twelve thousand ducats. Don Alonso resigned, and
retired to Talavera to die. The archbishop out of the twelve thousand
ducats accepted only one-half. He died in 1587, and was buried in
Tudela de Duero.]

2. The letter was written by him in Soria, where he
then was. He told me that a lady, who was his penitent
there, had spoken to him about founding a monastery
of our nuns, of which he approved; that he had promised
her he would persuade me to go and make a foundation
there; that I must not fail him; and that if I thought
it right to do so I was to let him know, and that he
would send for me. I was very glad, for, setting aside
that it would be a good work to make a foundation
there, I wished to make known to him certain matters
relating to the state of my soul and also to see him,
because I have a great affection for him, the fruit of
the great service he has done me.

3. The lady the foundress was Dona Beatrix de
Veamonte and Navarre â€” for she was descended from
the kings of Navarre â€” the child of Don Francis de
Veamonte, of noble and illustrious lineage. She had
been a wife for some years, had no children, was exceedingly wealthy, and for some time past had resolved
to found a monastery of nuns. She spoke of it to the
bishop, and he told her of the order of our Lady, the
barefooted Carmelites. She was so pleased that she
made great haste to carry out her purpose. She is
very gentle, generous, and mortified; in a word, a very
great servant of God. She had in Soria an excellent
house, well built and in a very good situation, and said
that she would give it to us, with everything else that
might be wanted for the foundation. She gave it,
together with a sum of money which, at twenty per
mill maravedises would bring in five hundred ducats a
year. The bishop undertook to give a very fine church
with a stone roof; it was the parish church close by,
which would have been useful with a gallery leading
into it. He might very well give it, for it was poor,
and there were many churches in the town, and he could
assign the parish to another church. He gave me an
account of all this in his letter. I discussed the whole
matter with the father provincial, who was then here,
who with all my friends decided that I was to write
by a special messenger and say they might come for
me, for the foundation of Palencia was now made. I
was very glad of it for the reason I gave before.

4. I began to collect the nuns I was to take with
me: they were seven â€” the lady would rather have had
more than fewer â€” with one lay sister, my companion,
and myself. A person came for us at once and in haste;
and, as I told him I would bring with me two barefooted
friars, I took the father Fray Nicholas of Jesus Maria,
a man of great perfection and discernment â€” a Genoese
by birth.

5. He was more than forty years old, I believe,
when he received the habit â€” at least he is now upwards
of forty, and it was not long ago â€” but he has made
such great progress in a short time that it is clear our
Lord chose him to help the order, which he did, in
these days of persecutions, which were so full of trouble,
because the others who could have helped us were some
of them in exile, others in prison. He, as he held no
office â€” for as I have said, he had not been long in the
order â€” was not thought so much of: that was the work
of God, that he might remain to help me. He is very prudent, for when he was staying in the monastery of
the mitigation in Madrid he was so reserved, as if he
had other affairs to transact, that they never discovered he was engaged in ours, and so allowed him
to remain. We wrote to each other continually, for I
was then in the monastery of S. Joseph's in Avila, and
discussed what was necessary to be done, which was
a comfort to him. This shows the difficulties of the
order at that time, seeing that they made so much of
me according to the saying, ' For want of better.'
During the whole of this time I had experience of his
perfection and prudence, and hence he is one of those
in the order for whom I have a great affection in our
Lord, and whom I highly esteem.

6. He, then, with a companion, a lay brother, went
with us. I had no trouble on the road, for he whom the
bishop had sent for us took great care of us, and helped
us to the utmost of his power to find good lodgings, for
when we entered the diocese of Osma the people provided
us with good lodgings on being told that our coming was
the bishop's doing, so great is their affection for him.
The weather was fine, and we made short journeys, so
that there was no fatigue in travelling, only joy, for it
was to me an exceeding great joy to listen to what people
said of the holy life of the bishop.

7. We arrived at Burgo the day before the octave of
Corpus Christi, and went to Communion on Thursday,
which was the day of the octave, the morning after our
arrival, and dined there, because we could not reach
Soria (before ') next day. That night we spent in a church,
for there was no other place to lodge in, which did not
displease us. The next morning we heard mass there,
and reached Soria about five in the afternoon." The
saintly bishop was at a window of his house' when we
passed, and thence gave us his blessing; it was a great
comfort to me, for the blessing of a bishop and a saint is a
great thing.

8. The lady the foundress was waiting for us at the
door of her own house, for it was there the monastery
was to be founded: we did not see how to make our way
in, because of the great crowd present. That was nothing
new, for wherever we go, so fond is the world of novelties,
the crowd is so great as to be a grave annoyance were it
not that we cover our faces with our veils; that enables
us to bear it. The lady had a very large and very fine
room made ready, wherein mass was to be said for the
present, because a passage had to be made in the church
which the bishop was to give us, and forthwith the next
day, the feast of our father S. Eliseus ' mass was said.
The lady most abundantly furnished everything that we
had need of, and left us in that room, wherein we kept
ourselves enclosed until the passage was made, remaining
there till the Transfiguration.'

9. On that day the first mass was said with great
solemnity, a large congregation being present in the
church. A father of the society' preached, the bishop
having gone to Burgo, for he never loses a day or an
hour, but is always at work, though he is not strong, and
the sight of one of his eyes is gone. I had this sorrow
there, for it was a very great grief to me that his sight,
which was so profitable in the service of our Lord, was
lost, God's judgments are His own. This must have
happened to enable His servant to gain more merit, and
to try his resignation to His will, for he did not refrain
from labouring as he did before. He told me that he
did not grieve over his loss any more than if it had
happened to another. He felt sometimes that he should
not think it a matter of respect if he lost the sight of the
other eve, for he would then live in a hermitage, serving
God without further obligation. That was always his
vocation before he was made bishop, and he spoke of it
to me occasionally, and had almost made up his mind to
give up everything and go. I could not bear that,
because I thought that as a bishop he would be of great
service in the church of God, and accordingly wished him
to be what he is, though on the day he was offered the
bishopric â€” he sent word of it to me at once â€” I fell into
very great distress about it, seeing him laid under so
heavy a burden, and I could neither rest nor be at ease.
I went into the choir and prayed for him to our Lord,
and His Majesty made me calm in a moment, saying to
me that he would serve Him greatly; and so it
seems.

10. Notwithstanding the loss of an eye, certain other very painful infirmities and unceasing work, he fasts four days
in the week, and inflicts other penances on himself; his
food is very plain. When he visits the diocese he goes
on foot; his servants cannot bear it, and have complained
of it to me. His servants must be pious persons, or
they may not remain in his house. He does not trust
important affairs to his vicars-general; they must pass
through his hands, and indeed I think everything does.
For the first two years of his episcopate here he underwent a most unrelenting persecution from false witnesses,
at which I was amazed, for in the administration of justice
he is upright and true. That has now come to an end,
for, though people went to the court to complain of him,
and to every other place where they thought they could
work evil against him, they did not prevail, for the good
he was doing throughout his diocese became known.
He bore it all so perfectly that he made them ashamed,
doing good to those whom he knew to be doing evil to
him. Though he had much to do he never failed to find
time for prayer.

11. It seems to me that I am carried away when I
praise this holy man â€” and I have not said much â€” but I
have done so that people may know who it was that
really began the foundation of the Most Holy Trinity in
Soria, and for the consolation of those who have to dwell
there. My labour is not thrown away, and they who are
there now know it well. Though he did not endow us
he gave us the church, and it was he, as I am saying,'
who put it into the heart of that lady to make the
foundation, and he was, as I said before, a man of great
piety, goodness, and penance,

12. Then when the passage leading into the church
was made, and everything necessary for our enclosure
arranged, it became necessary I should return to the
monastery of S. Joseph in Avila; and so I went away at
once in the great heat,"' the road being very bad for the
carriage. Ribera, a minor canon of Palencia, went with
me; he had been a very great help in the making of the
passage into the church, and in everything, for the father
Nicholas of Jesus Maria had gone away as soon as the
deeds relating to the foundation were drawn out, being
very much wanted elsewhere. Ribera had business in
Soria when we were going thither, and went with us.
From that time forth God gave him such an earnest
desire to do us good, that we may therefore pray to His
Majesty for him among the benefactors of the order. I
would not have anybody else travel with me and my
companion, for he was enough, because he is so careful,
and the more quietly we travel the better am I on the road,'Â®

13. I paid now for the ease with which I had travelled
on this road before, for, though the young man who
went with us knew the way as far as Segovia, he did not
know the high road, and so he led us into places where
we had frequently to dismount, and took the carriage
over deep precipices where it almost swung in the air.
If we took persons with us to show the way, they led us
as far as the roads were safe, and left us just before we
came to a difficulty, saying that they had something to
do elsewhere. Before reaching the inns, as we had no
certain knowledge of the country, we had to bear long
the great heat of the sun, and our carriage was often in
danger of being overturned. I was sorry for our fellow traveller, because it was often necessary to retrace our
steps, though we had been told that we were on the right
road; but in him goodness was so deeply rooted that I
do not think I ever saw him annoyed, at which I marvelled much, and for which I gave thanks to our Lord;
for where goodness has taken root the occasions of sin
have little influence. I give thanks to our Lord because
He was pleased to save us from the dangers of this road.

14. On the eve of S. Bartholomew we reached S.
Joseph's in Segovia, where our nuns were in distress
because I was so late in coming and I was late because
the roads were bad. There they made much of us, for
God never sends me trouble but he repays me for it
forthwith. I rested for eight days and longer; the
foundation, however, was made with so very little trouble
that I think nothing of it, because it is nothing. I came
away rejoicing, for the place seemed to me to be one
where, I trust in the compassion of God, He will be
served by those who dwell there, as He is at present."

[Note: The Saint made Catherine of Christ, whom she sent for from
Medina, prioress, with Beatriz of Jesus sub-prioress. Catherine was
born in Madrigal; her father, of kin to the Saint, was Christobal de
Balmaseda, and her mother was Dona Juana Bustamante y San Martin.
She gave herself up from her earliest years to penance and good works,
and went to Medina to become a Carmelite when the Saint was making
the foundation there. She was refused at first because the house was
full, but she persevered, and the Saint accepted her. When she was
sent to Soria, Fray Jerome of the Mother of God remonstrated with the
Saint, and said that Catherine was not the proper person to be prioress,
because she could not write and had had no experience in governing,
whereupon the Saint said to the provincial, Hold your peace, father:
Catherine of Christ loves God much, is a very great saint, and requires
nothing more to govern well.' ]

May He be praised and blessed for ever and for evermore ! Amen. Deo gratias.

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

In This Chapter The Foundation Of The Glorious S. Joseph
Of S. Anne In The City Of Burgos Is Begun. The First
Mass Is Said 19 April 1582, Octave Of The Feast Of The
Resurrection

I. Don Alvaro de Mendoza. â€” 2. Delivers the pallium to the archbishop of Burgos. â€” 3. Our Lord warned the Saint of coming
troubles. â€” 4. The Saint encouraged supernaturally. â€” 5. Delay
about Burgos. â€” 6. The archbishop delays. â€” -7. Catalina de
Tolosa. â€” 8. Preparations made for Burgos. â€” 9. Dona Catalina
obtains the consent of the city of Burgos. â€” 10. The Saint's hesitation. â€” II. Our Lord bids her go. â€” 12. Other difficulties. â€” 13.
The provincial warns her of troubles. â€” 14. The Saint sets out for
Burgos. â€” 15. Difficulties of the road. â€” 16. From Palencia to
Burgos. â€” 17. Fray Jerome. â€” 18. Arrival in Burgos.19. The
Saint ill. â€” 20. The archbishop makes objections. â€” 21. And refuses permission for mass to be said in the house. â€” 22. Hardships
borne by the nuns. â€” 23. More difficulties. â€” 24. The provincial
discouraged. â€” 25. Our Lord encourages the Saint. â€” 26. The
nuns lodged in the hospital. â€” 27. Services of Catalina de Tolosa. â€”
28. Her troubles. â€” 29. The provincial leaves Burgos. â€” 30.
Difficulties in finding a house. â€” 31. A house found. â€” 32. Treaty
for it. â€” 33. It is bought. â€” 34. The sale attacked. â€” 35. Surprise
of Burgos. â€” 36. The archbishop still refuses his sanction. â€” 37.
More shifts of the archbishop. â€” 38. Generosity of Catalina de
Tolosa. â€” 39. The saint applies for help to the bishop of Palencia.
â€” 40. The archbishop yields at last. â€” 41 . The monastery founded.
â€” 42. Blessedness of a cloistered life. â€” 43. The Saint gives up
the endowment. â€” 44. Her confidence. â€” 45. Reconciliation of
the two bishops. â€” 46. Transfer of the jurisdiction of the monastery
in Avila. â€” 47. Recommended by the bishop of Osma.â€” 48. Consent of the bishop and of the nuns.

More than six years ago certain members of the
Society of Jesus, men of great godliness, learning, and
spirituality, and long professed, said to me that it would
be a great service rendered to our Lord if a house of
this holy order were founded in Burgos. They gave me
some reasons in favour of it which moved me to wish for
it. The troubles of the order, and the other foundations,
left me no opportunity of making it. When I was in
Valladolid in the year 1580, the archbishop of Burgos
â€” the archbishopric had then been given him â€” came that
way; he had before been bishop of the Canaries, and
was then going to take possession. I have already spoken
of the bishop of Palencia, Don Alvaro de Mendoza, who
has greatly befriended the order; he was the first to
accept the monastery of S. Joseph in Avila, where he
was bishop, and ever since he has rendered us many a
service, regarding the affairs of the order as his own,
especially those which I commended to him. I begged
him to ask the archbishop to allow us to make a foundation in Burgos, and he most readily promised to ask,
for, as he thinks our Lord is greatly honoured in these
houses, he rejoices much whenever a house is founded.

2. The archbishop would not enter Valladolid, but
took up his lodging in the monastery of S. Jerome where
the bishop of Palencia entertained him sumptuously,
went to dine with him, and to give him a girdle, or do
some ceremony or other which was to make him bishop.
He then asked permission for me to found the monastery.
The archbishop said he would give it with pleasure; he
had asked for one in the Canaries, and had longed to
have there one of these monasteries, because he knew
how much our Lord is served in them, for he came from
a place where one had been built, and was well acquainted
with me. Accordingly the bishop told me not to wait
for the licence, for the archbishop was very glad to have
the monastery; and as the council does not say that
the licence is to be in writing, but only that the bishop's
consent is to be had, the licence might be taken for
granted.

3. I have spoken of the great unwillingness I had to
make any more foundations when I was to make one
before in Palencia, for I had been very ill, so that it was
thought I could not live, and even then I was not well.
Illnesses, however, do not usually oppress me so much
when I see that what I have to do is for the service of
God, and so I do not know whence came such unwillingness as I felt then. It could not have come from my
scanty means, for I had less when making other foundations. I believe it came from Satan, now that I see the
results: and so it has usually been, for whenever I have
any trouble in making a foundation our Lord, knowing
my misery, always helps me by words and deeds. I have
sometimes thought that in certain foundations, about
which I had no trouble, His Majesty never warned me
at all. It has been so in this, for, as He knew what I
had to bear, He began to encourage me from the very
first. All praise be unto Him !

4. It was so here, as in the foundation of Palencia,
already told â€” for the two foundations were arranged at
the same time â€” He asked me, as it were reproaching
me, What was I afraid of? Had He ever failed me?
I am the same: fail not to make these two foundations.' As I said, when giving an account of the
former foundation, what courage these words gave me,
there is no reason why 1 should say it over again here.
All sloth departed from me at once, and that makes me
think that the cause of it was neither my illness nor my
old age, and so I began at once to make arrangements
for both foundations, as I said before. It was thought
better to make the foundation of Palencia first, because
it was nearer, and because the weather was so severe and
Burgos so cold, and also because it would please the
good bishop of Palencia: it was therefore done, as I said
before.

5. But when I was staying in Palencia the foundation
of Soria was offered, and I thought that, as everything
was settled in Palencia, it would be best to go thither
first, and thence to Burgos. The bishop of Palencia
thought it right, and I begged him to do so, to give the
archbishop an account of what was going on; and so
after I had gone to Soria he sent the canon Juan Alonso to
the archbishop on that business alone. The archbishop,
in a letter to me, said with great affection that he desired
my coming; made arrangements with the canon and
wrote to the bishop, putting himself in his hands; that
he was influenced by his knowledge of Burgos in what
he did; that I must come in with the consent of the
town; in short, the conclusion was that I was to go and
treat in the first place with the city, and if it refused
permission, his hands could not be tied, nor himself
hindered, from giving it; that he was present when the
first monastery was founded in Avila, and remembered
the great trouble and opposition I had to bear; that he
wished in this way to guard against the same thing here;
that it would not be right to found the monastery unless
with an endowment, or with the consent of the city â€” a
condition I did not like, and therefore he spoke of it.

6. When the archbishop said I was to go thither the
bishop looked on the affair as settled, and with reason;
so he sent me word that we were to go. But to me
there seemed a want of courage in the archbishop, and I
wrote to thank him for his kindness to me, saying that it
would be worse if the city refused its consent than if we
made the foundation without saying anything about it,
because it would be bringing more trouble on his Grace, I
think I saw beforehand how little we could rely on him
if any opposition were made to my obtaining the licence;
and, besides, I looked on it as a difficult matter on
account of the contradictory opinions usual on such
occasions. ' I wrote to the bishop of Palencia entreating
him that, as the summer was nearly over, and my infirmities such as to disable me from staying in so cold
a climate, the matter might rest for the present. He
was hurt because the archbishop made so many difficulties
after showing such good dispositions before, and so
I said nothing of my suspicions, to avoid causing
disagreements â€” for they are friends â€” and went from
Soria to Avila, very far from thinking at the time that
I should have to return so soon: my going to the
house of S. Joseph in Avila was very necessary for
many reasons."

7. There dwelt in the city of Burgos a holy widow,
Catalina de Tolosa, a Biscayan by birth, of whose goodness, penance, and prayer, great alms-giving and charity,
good sense and courage I could speak at great length.
She had placed two of her daughters as nuns in the
monastery of our Lady of the Conception in Valladolid
four years ago, I think â€” and two others in Palencia." She
waited till that house was founded, and brought them
thither before I went away from that foundation.

8. The four nuns have turned out as the children of
such a mother; they are like angels. She gave them
a good dowry and everything else most abundantly, for
she herself is very wealthy; in all her ways she is most
generous and can be so, for she is rich. When she
came to Palencia we considered the archbishop's consent
so certain that we did not think there was any reason for
delay, and so I asked her to find me a house we might
hire in order to take possession, to set up the grating
and the turn, and put it to my account, never
thinking she would spend any money of her own, but
only that she would lend it to me. So earnestly did
she desire this foundation that she felt very much the
putting it off at that time, and so after my departure for
Avila, as I have just said, having no thought whatever
of making the foundation then, she gave herself no rest,
but, thinking there was nothing more to be done except
getting the permission of the city, began to solicit it
without saying a word to me about it.

9. She had two neighbours, persons of importance,
and very great servants of God, who desired the foundation greatly â€” a mother and her daughter. The mother,
Dona Maria Manrique, had a son who was a magistrate,
Don Alonso de Santo Domingo Manrique; ' the
daughter was called Dona Catalina. Those two ladies
discussed the matter with him that he might ask the
consent of the council of the city. He spoke to Catalina
de Tolosa, and asked her what he was to say about our
means of subsistence, for the council would not consent
if we had none. She replied that she would bind herself â€” and so she did â€” to give us a house if we wanted
one, and maintain us, and thereupon presented a petition
signed with her name. Don Alonso managed the matter
so skillfully that he obtained leave from all the magistrates,
went to the archbishop, and showed him the permission
in writing. Immediately after she entered on the
business she sent me word by letter that she was arranging it. I looked on it as something not serious, because
I knew what difficulties people make about monasteries
founded in poverty; and as I did not know, and as it
had never entered into my mind, that she had bound
herself as she had done, I thought that much more was
still to be done.

10. However, one day within the octave of Saint
Martin, when I was commending the matter to our
Lord, I considered what was to be done if the licence
were granted; for, as to my going myself to Burgos, that
I looked on as impossible because I was so ill, the place
being so cold, and cold being very bad for my illness; it
would be rash to undertake so long a journey when
I had but just made so difficult a journey as was that
from Soria already mentioned; besides, the father
provincial would not let me go.' I thought the prioress
of Palencia might do as well, for as everything was
settled there would be nothing for her to do.

11, While I was thinking thus, and greatly bent on
not going, our Lord spoke these words to me, which
showed me that permission had been given: â€” ' Do not
mind the cold: I am the true warmth: Satan is exerting
all his strength to hinder the foundation: do thou exert
thine on My behalf that it may be made, and go thyself
without fail, for the fruits of it will be great,' Thereupon
I changed my mind: though nature sometimes rebels
when I have difficult things to do, my resolution to suffer
for God, who is so great, never wavers, and so I ask Him
not to regard those feelings of weakness, but to bid me
do whatever is pleasing to Himself, for I shall not fail to
do it by the help of His grace. The snow was then on
the ground, but what most disheartened me was my
wretched health, for had I been well I believe I should
have thought nothing of the journey. It was my want of
health that most frequently wearied me while making this
foundation; the cold was nothing â€” at least, I did
not feel it â€” certainly not more, I think, than I did
in Toledo. What our Lord said to me He amply
fulfilled.

12. There was a delay of a few days in bringing me
the licence, with letters from Catalina de Tolosa and her
friend Dona Catalina pressing me to make haste; they
feared some disaster, for the order of Minims ' had
come to make a foundation there, and the Carmelites of
the mitigation also had been there for some time labouring
for a like end. Afterwards came the monks of S. Basil,
which might have been a hindrance: it was a matter of
wonder that so many came at the same time with us, and
a reason also for giving thanks to our Lord for the great
charity of the place, seeing that the city gave its permission
most willingly, though it was not now so prosperous as
it had been. I had always heard people praise the
charitableness of the city, but I never thought it was so
great. Some helped one order, some another; but the
archbishop, thinking of all the difficulties that might
arise, forbade it, for he considered that a new house
would be a wrong done to the orders founded in poverty,
in that they would not be able to maintain themselves;
and perhaps these had applied to him themselves, or it
may be that the devil suggested it in order to do away
with the good which God works wherever many monasteries are built, for He is able to maintain many as easily
as few.

13, This was the reason why those saintly ladies
pressed me so earnestly: if I had had my will I should
have set out at once, but as it was I had matters to attend
to, for I considered that I was more bound not to miss an
opportunity myself than they were whom I saw taking so
much pains. I understood by the words ' I had heard
that there was much opposition â€” from whom or whence
it was to come I knew not, because Catalina de Tolosa
had already written to me to say that she had the house
in which she lived secured for the purpose of taking
possession, that the city had consented, and the archbishop
also: I could not imagine from whom this opposition
was to come which the devils were to raise, yet for all this
I never doubted that the words I had heard were the
words of God. In short, His Majesty gives to superiors
greater light, for when I wrote to the father provincial
about my going, because I knew I was to do so, he did
not hinder me, but he asked me if I had the licence of
the archbishop in writing. I answered that they had
written to me from Burgos saying that they had arranged
with him, that the consent of the city had been asked and
obtained, and that the archbishop was satisfied with it:
this, together with all he had said about the matter,
seemed to leave no room for doubt.

14. The father provincial would go with us to make
the foundation, partly because he was then to be at
leisure, for he had just finished preaching in Advent, and
had to so to Soria to make a visitation â€” he had not seen
that monastery since it was founded, and it was not much
out of his road â€” and partly that he might look after my
health on the journey, because the weather was so severe
and I so old and sickly, and because my life was thought
to be of some importance. It was certainly a providence
of God, for the roads were in such a state â€” deep under
water â€” that it was highly necessary for him and his
companions to go on before to see where we could pass,
and to help to drag the carriages out of the mud,
especially on the road from Palencia to Burgos. It was
an act of great hardihood for us to set out from the
former place when we did.

15. The truth is, our Lord had said to me that we
might go on safely â€” not to be afraid â€” for He would be
with us. This, however, I did not make known to the
father provincial, but it was a comfort amidst the great
difficulties and dangers of the road, especially in one spot
near Burgos called the Floating Bridges: there the waters
had risen so high, and for some time, that we could not
see the road nor know where to go to: there was
nothing but water, and on either side of us exceedingly
deep. In short, it is an act of great rashness to travel
that way, especially with carriages, which if they swerved
but a little would be all lost, and accordingly we saw one
of them in danger.

16. From a miserable inn on the road we took a
guide who knew the passage; it certainly was a very
dangerous one. Then, the lodgings we found ! for it
was impossible to make the usual day's journey because
of the state of the roads; the carriages continually sunk
deep into the mire, and the mules had to be taken out of
one carriage to drag out the other. The fathers who
were with us had much to suffer, for we happened to have
drivers who were young and very careless. It was a
great relief that we were travelling with the father
provincial, for he took care of everything, and is of so
even a temper that all that happened seemed not to
trouble him at all, and so he made light of that which
was great, so that it seemed to be nothing â€” not so
however, at the Floating Bridges, for he was then not
without fear, for when I saw ourselves go into a world of
water without a way or a boat, notwithstanding the
encouragement of our Lord I was not without fear
myself: what, then, must my companions have felt. We
were eight on the road: two were to return with me,
five to remain in Burgos â€” four choir and one lay sister.'

17. I do not think I have yet mentioned the name of
the father provincial;" he is Fray Jerome Gratian of
the Mother of God, of whom I have spoken in other
places. I was myself suffering from a very severe sore
throat, which I caught on the road to Valladolid, nor had
the fever left me, and as the pain therefrom was great it
hindered me from feeling much the incidents of the
journey. I have that sore throat even now at the end of
June, and, though it is not nearly so sharp as it was, it
is still very painful. The nuns were all happy, for once
the danger passed it was a pleasure to speak of it. It
is a grand thing to suffer under obedience, especially
for those who live under it so continually as these
nuns do.

[Note: It appears from this that the Saint wrote this chapter about three
months before her death. On the 3rd of August the sore throat was
gone, as she says in a letter to the prioress of Burgos. ]

18. We reached Burgos by this dangerous road,
through the deep waters there before the entrance of the
city. Our father would have us go first of all to visit
the Miraculous Crucifix, to recommend to Him our
business, and wait there till night came on, for it was
still early. We arrived on Friday, 26th January, the
day after the feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul. Our
intention was to make the foundation at once, and I had
with me many letters from the Canon Salinas â€” he is
spoken of in the history of the foundation of Palencia,
where his labours in our behalf were not less than they
were here â€” and from persons of consideration urging
their relatives and others, their friends, most earnestly
to befriend us in our work: they did so, for immediately,
the next day, they came to see me, and in the city they
were not sorry for the promise they had made, but were
glad that I had come, and I was to consider wherein
they could be of service to me. If we had any fears
at all, they arose from our doubts about the city, now
we found everything smooth; and before any could
know of our coming â€” for there was no going to the
house of the good Catalina de Tolosa in that very heavy
rain â€” we intended to inform the archbishop of it, that we
might have the first mass said at once, as in almost all
places; but it was not done on account of the weather.

19. We rested that night in great comfort furnished
us by that saintly woman; nevertheless it brought
suffering to me, for there was a great fire made for us
to dry ourselves at, which, though in a chimney, did me
so much harm that I could not raise my head the next
day; I had therefore to lie down when speaking to those
who came to see me through a window with a grating,
over which we drew a curtain; and as it was a day in
which I was obliged to settle many matters, it was very
painful to me. Early in the morning the father provincial went to his Grace to ask his blessing, for we
thought that was all we had to do. He found him
changed, and angry at my coming without his leave, as
if he had never sent for me or meddled at all in the
matter; and accordingly he spoke to the father provincial
in great wrath against me. Then, admitting that he
had sent for me, he said he meant I was to come
alone to arrange the affair with him; but to come with
so many nuns, God deliver us from the annoyance it
gave him ! To tell him that we had already arranged
with the city, as he had asked us to do; that there was
nothing more to be done but to make the foundation;
and that the bishop of Palencia, when I asked him if
I should do right in going [without informing his
Grace", had told me it was not necessary to do so,
because he wished the foundation to be made â€” was all
to no purpose whatever. The matter stood thus, and
God willed the foundation of the house, and the archbishop himself said so afterwards, for if we had plainly
told him we were coming he would have forbidden us
to come. Thereupon he dismissed the father provincial,
telling him that unless we were endowed and had a
house of our own he never would give his consent: we
might as well return: the roads were so good and the
weather so fine !

20. O my Lord, how true it is that he who shall render
Thee a service is immediately rewarded by a great cross !
And what a priceless reward it is if they who truly love
Thee only knew its value at the time ! But we did not
then desire the reward, because it seemed to make the
foundation altogether impossible, for the archbishop said
besides, that the endowment and the house we were to
buy were not to be taken out of any dowry the nuns
might bring with them. Then, as we were not thinking
of that in times like the present, it became clear enough
that we were helpless: not so to me, however, for I
always felt assured that all this was for the best â€” a plot
of Satan to hinder the foundation â€” and that God would
prosper His work. Herewith came away the provincial
very joyous, for he was not troubled in the least at it:
God so ordained it that he might not be vexed with me
because I had not obtained the licence in writing, as
he had told me to do.

21. There were then with me some of the triends to
whom the canon Salinas had written, as I said before;
and they resolved, his kinsmen agreeing with them, that
the archbishop should be asked to give permission for
the celebration of mass in the house, that we might
not have to go out into the streets, which were very
dirty: it was not seemly that we should go out, being
barefooted. There was a suitable room in the house
which had been the church of the Society of Jesus when
they came to Burgos, and which they used for more
than ten years; we therefore saw nothing unseemly in
taking possession there till we had a house of our own.
We were never able to persuade him to let us hear
mass therein, though two canons went to him to
beg for leave. All that we got from him was,
that an endowment being assured the foundation might
be made there till we bought a house, and to
obtain this we were to give security for the purchase
of a house, and we were not to leave the place we
were in.

22. The sureties we found at once, for the friends of
the canon Salinas offered themselves, and Catalina de
Tolosa offered an endowment. Meanwhile, in discussing
how much it was to be, and in what way it was to be
secured, more than three weeks must have gone by, and
we not hearing mass except on holy days very early in
the morning, myself in a fever and very ill. Catalina de
Tolosa, however, was so kind to us, and took such care of
me, and fed us the whole of that month as cheerfully as
if she had been the mother of every one of us, in a part
of the house where we lived by ourselves. The father
provincial and his companions were lodged in the house
of a friend of his â€” they had been at college together â€”
the doctor Manso, canon-preacher in the cathedral; he
was excessively harassed by his detention there so long,
and yet could not see his way to leave us.

23. When the sureties had been found and the endowment settled, the archbishop told us to give the papers to
the vicar-general, and then everything would be settled
immediately. Satan â€” it must have been so â€” did not fail to
run to him also, for after along consideration of the matter,
when we were thinking that there could be no grounds
for further delay, and when a month had been spent in
persuading the archbishop to be pleased with what we
were doing, the vicar-general sent me a note in which
he said that the licence would not be granted till we had
a house of our own; that the archbishop now did not
like us to make the' foundation in the house we were
staying in, because it was damp and in a street that was
very noisy; and then, as for the security of the endowment, I know not what difficulties and objections he
made, as if the matter were then discussed for the first
time; that there must be no further debate, and the
archbishop must be pleased with the house.

24. When the father provincial heard of it he was
greatly moved â€” so were we all â€” for plainly much time
is necessary for buying a place for a monastery; it
distressed him to see us go out of the house for mass,
for, though the church was not far off, and we heard it
in a chapel therein unseen of all, yet for the father
provincial and ourselves it was a very great burden.
Then it was, I think, he made up his mind that we
must go away. I could not bear to do that: when I
remembered what our Lord had said to me,' that I was
to make this foundation for Him, I was so confident it
would be made that scarcely anything vexed me; but
I was in distress about the father provincial, and was
very sorry he had come with us, not knowing at the
time how much his friends were to do for us, as I
shall tell by and by.

25. When I was in this distress, which pressed heavily
on my companions also, though I did not concern myself
about them, but only about the provincial, our Lord â€”
I was not in prayer â€” said to me these words, ' Now,
Teresa, be strong.'. Thereupon with great earnestness,
I begged the father provincial to go away and leave us.
And His Majesty must have brought him to this, for Lent
was nigh at hand, and he was obliged to go and preach."

26. He and his friends contrived to have rooms
assigned us in the hospital of the Conception; the Most
Holy Sacrament was there, and mass was said every day.
This gave him some pleasure, but he had not a little to
go through in getting it for us, for the one good room
there had been taken by a widow in the town, who not
only would not lend it to us, though she was not going
into it for the next half-year, but was angry because they
had given us certain rooms in the upper part of the
hospital under the roof, one of them forming a passage
into her room. She was not satisfied with locking it on
the outside, but must have bars put across it on the
inside. Besides, the brethren thought we were to make
the hospital our own â€” an impracticable imagination, but
God would have us merit more thereby; they made us
promise, the father provincial and myself, before a notary,
that we would, on being told to quit the place, do so
at once. This was the hardest thing for me, for I was
afraid the widow, who was wealthy and had relatives
there, would, whenever she took a fancy to do so, compel
us to go away. The father provincial, however, was
wiser than I, and would have everything done according
to their wishes, that we might go in at once; they gave
us but two rooms and a kitchen. But a great servant
of God, Hernando de Matanza, was in charge of
the hospital, and gave us two others for a parlour, and
was very kind to us, as he is indeed to everybody, and
does much for the poor. Franciso de Cuevas also was
kind to us; he has much to do with the hospital, and
is postmaster here; he was always kind to us when he
had the opportunity.

27. I have given the names of those who were our
benefactors in the beginning, that the nuns now there,
and those who shall come after them, may, as is fitting,
remember them in their prayers; they are the more
bound to do so for founders, and, though at first I did
not intend, neither did it enter into my mind, that
Catalina de Tolosa should be the founder of the house,
her good life obtained it for her from our Lord, who
so ordered matters that it became impossible to withhold
this honour from her; for, to say nothing of the purchase
of the house by her when we had not the means of doing
so ourselves, it never can be told what the shiftings of
the archbishop cost her, for it was a very great distress
to her to think that the house might not be founded,
and she was never weary of doing us good. The
hospital was very far from her house, and yet she came
to see us most readily nearly every day, and sent us all
we had need of; then people never ceased from talking
to her, and if she had not been the courageous woman
she is that talking might have put an end to everything.
28. It was a great sorrow to me to see her suffering
for, though she for the most part kept it secret, yet
there were times when she could not hide it, especially
when they appealed to her conscience, which was so
tender that, even amid the great provocations she received,
I never heard a word from her by which God might be
offended. They used to say to her that she was going
to hell, and ask her how she could do what she was
doing when she had children of her own. All she did
was with the sanction of learned men: if she had wished
to act otherwise, I would not have consented for anything
on earth to her doing what she might not do, if a
thousand monasteries had been lost thereby: much more,
then, would I not have consented for one. But, as the
plan we were discussing was kept secret, I am not
surprised that people thought the more about it. She
answered every one with so much prudence â€” and she Is
very prudent â€” and bore it so gently that it was plain
that God was teaching her how to be able to please some
and endure others, and giving her courage to bear it all.
How much greater is the courage of the servants of
God when they have great things to do than is that of
people of high descent if they are not His servants !
She, however, was without flaw in her blood, for she is
the child of a very noble house.

29. I now go back to what I was saying: when the
father provincial found us a place where we could hear mass
and live enclosed he ventured to go to Valladolid, where
he had to preach, but in great distress at not seeing in
the archbishop any sign from which to hope that he
would give his permission; and, though I always spoke
hopefully, he could not believe, and certainly he had
grave reasons for thinking as he did, which need not be
told, and, if he had little hope, his friends had less, and
they discouraged him greatly. I was more at ease when
I saw him gone, for, as I said before, the greatest trouble
I had was his. He left instructions that we were to find
a house, in order that we might have one of our own;
and that was very difficult, for up to that time we had not
found one for sale. We were now a greater burden to
our friends, especially those of the father provincial, and
all of them agreed not to speak a word to the archbishop
till we found a house; he always said that he wished the
foundation to be made more than any one; and I believe
it, for he is so good a Christian that he would not say
that which is not true. In his conduct this did not appear,
for he asked for things which evidently were beyond our
power to do: it was a device of Satan to hinder the
foundation. But, O Lord, how plain it is that Thou art
mighty ! the very means which Satan sought for the
purpose of hindering it Thou didst employ to make it
better. Blessed be Thou for ever !

30. From the eve of S. Mathias, when we came to the
hospital, until the eve of S. Joseph, we were busy in
looking at this house and at that; they had all of them
so many disadvantages, and not one among those which
their owners were willing to sell was such as we ought to
buy. They told me of one belonging to a nobleman
which had been for sale for some time, and, though there
were so many orders looking for a house, it pleased God
that none of them liked this, and they are all astonished
at it now, and some even are very sorry. One or two
people had spoken to me about it, but they who spoke
ill of it were so many that I had by this time ceased
to think of it, as if it were a house that would not
suit us.

31. One day, when the licentiate Aguiar, one of the
friends of our father, already mentioned, who had been making a careful search everywhere for a house, was telling me
that he had seen some, and that no house fitting for us could
be found in the whole city, and when I thought it impossible to find any, judging by what people were saying
to me, I remembered the one which I have just spoken
of as having been given up, and thought that, though it
were as bad as it was said to be, it might be a refuse for
us in our necessity, and that we might sell it later. I
said to the licentiate Aguiar that he would do me a kindness if he would go and look at it. He thought it not a
bad plan; he had never seen the house, and he would go
at once, though it was a stormy and wretched day. There
was a person living in it who had no wish to see it sold and
would not show it to him, but the situation itself, and as
much of the house as he could see, pleased him greatly,
and so we made up our minds to treat for the purchase
of it.

32. The nobleman to whom the house belonged was
away, but he had given to an ecclesiastic," a servant of
God, to whom His Majesty gave the desire of selling
it to us, and to treat with us with great openness, authority
to sell it. It was settled that I should go and see it. I
was so extremely pleased with it that I should have
considered it cheap if they had asked twice as much for
it, as we had understood they did; and that is not saying
much, for two years before that sum had been offered to
the owner, but he would not sell it then. Immediately,
the next day, the ecclesiastic came here, and the licentiate
also, who when he saw that the other was satisfied wished
to have the matter settled at once. I had spoken to
some of our friends, and they had told me that if I gave
what was asked I should be giving five hundred ducats
more than it was worth. I told him of this, but he
thought the house cheap even if I gave for it the sum
that was asked: I thought so also myself, and that I
ought not to delay, for it seemed as if about to be sold
for nothing, but as the money belonged to the order it
gave me a scruple.

33. This meeting took place before mass on the eve
of the glorious S. Joseph;"' I told them we should meet
again after mass and settle the matter. The licentiate is
a most prudent man, and he saw clearly that, as soon as
the matter began to be bruited abroad, either we should
not be the purchasers of the house or it would cost us a
much larger sum: so he made the ecclesiastic give a
promise to return after mass. We nuns went and commended the affair to God, who said to me, ' Dost thou
hold back for money? ' giving me to understand that the
house was fitted for us. The sisters had prayed much to
S. Joseph that they might have a house for his feast, and,
though they did not think they could have one so soon,
their prayer was heard: all urged me to settle it, and so
it was done, for the licentiate came in with a notary, met
with at the door â€” which seemed a providence of our
Lord â€” and said to me that it was necessary to settle, and,
having brought in a witness, and shut the door of the room
that nobody might know â€” for he was afraid of that â€” the
sale was made, and could not be set aside,' on the eve, as
I said before, of the glorious S. Joseph, through the kind
service and skillfulness of this good friend.

34. Nobody thought it would be sold so cheaply, and
accordingly when the news began to be spread abroad
purchasers began to come forward, and to say that the
ecclesiastic who had made the bargain had sold it at too
low a price â€” that the sale must be set aside, for it was a
great fraud. The good ecclesiastic had much to go
through. Word was sent at once to the owners of the
house, who were, as I said before, one of the chief nobles
in the place and his wife; but they were so glad that
their house was to be a monastery that they ratified the
sale on that ground, though by that time they could not
do otherwise. Immediately, the next day, the deeds were
drawn up, and one-third of the money was paid on the
demand of the ecclesiastic, for in some things relating to
the bargain they were hard on us, and we bore everything
to keep to it.

25. It seems foolish for me to be speaking at such
great length of the purchase of this house, but the truth
is that those who looked into the matter carefully saw in
it nothing less than a miracle, whether it be the price,
which was so small, or the blindness of all the religious
who had seen it, and which hindered them from taking
it: those who looked at the house were amazed, as if it
had not always been in Burgos, and found fault with
them and called them foolish. There were persons there
searching for a house for a monastery of nuns, and two
monasteries besides, one of which had been lately founded
â€” the Other had come to the town from outside because
its house had been burnt down â€” and another wealthy
person intending to found a monastery, who had lately
seen it and given it up: these were all extremely sorry.
The talking in the town was such as made us see clearly
the grave reasons the licentiate had for the secrecy and
the haste in which he settled the affair, and we can truly
say that, under God, he gave us the house. A sound
judgment is of great service in everything, and, as his
judgment is very sound, and as God had given him the
will, so he brought our affair to an end. He was for
more than a month helping us and arranging the house
so as to make it suit us, and at little cost. It seemed
clear that our Lord had been keeping the house for
Himself, for almost everything seemed to have been done
for our use. The truth is, as soon as I saw it, with everything therein as if prepared for us, it seemed to me a dream
â€” everything was done so quickly. Our Lord repaid us
well for what we had gone through when He brought us
into a paradise â€” for the garden, the view, and the water
seemed nothing else. May He be blessed for ever ! Amen.
36. The archbishop heard of it at once, and was very
glad we had prospered so well: he thought it was due to
his obstinacy, and he was right. I wrote to him to say I
rejoiced because he was satisfied, and that I would make
haste in arranging the house, that he might be altogether
gracious unto me. Having said this to him, I hastened
into it myself, for I was warned that they wished to detain
us in the hospital till certain deeds were completed. And
so, though a man who lived in the house had not gone
out â€” it cost us also something to get rid of him â€” we
went into a room in it. I was told immediately that the
archbishop was angry thereat; I did all I could to soothe
him, and as he is a good man, even when he is angry, his
anger passes quickly away. He was angry also when he
heard that we had a grating and a turn, for it made him
think that I wished to act as if free from his authority: I
wrote to him, and said that I had no such wish, only that
we had done what is done in the house of persons who
live in retirement â€” that I had not dared to put up even
a cross, lest he should think so; and that was the truth.
Notwithstanding all the goodwill he professed, we found
no way to make him willing to grant the licence.

37. He came to see the house. It pleased him much,
and he was very gracious to us, but not gracious enough
to give the licence; however, he gave us more hope, and
said that some agreement was to be made with Catalina
de Tolosa. There were great fears that he would not
sanction it, but Doctor Manso, the other friend of the
father provincial, of whom I have spoken, was very much
with him, watching opportunities to remind him of us
and to importune him; for it pained him much to see us
living as we were doing, because in the house itself,
though it had a chapel which had never been used for
anything but for mass when the former owners lived in
it, he would never allow us to have mass said, but we
must go out on festival days and Sundays to hear it in a
church, which we were very fortunate in having close by;
though after we had gone to our house, until the foundation was made a month went by, more or less. All learned
men told us that there were good grounds for allowing
mass to be said." The archbishop is learned enough,
and he saw it in the same light, and thus there seems to
be no other reason to give than this â€” that it was the
good pleasure of our Lord we should suffer. I bore it
best of all myself, but one of the nuns on finding herself
in the street trembled through the pain it gave her.

[Note: The obstinacy of the archbishop was the more galling to the Saint
because there was a chapel in the house in which mass had been said for
fourteen years while it was in the possession of the Jesuits (Letter of I 8th
March 1582). The Saint and her sisters heard mass in the parish church
of S. Luke, afterwards the church of the Augustinian nuns. ]

38. We had not a little to suffer in drawing up
the deeds, for at one time they were satisfied with
sureties, at another they would have the money paid.
Many other difficulties were raised. In this the archbishop was not so much to blame: it was a vicar-general
who fought hard against us, and if God had not
opportunely sent him on a journey, so that the business
devolved on another it seemed as if the matter would
never be brought to an end. Oh, the distress of Catalina
de Tolosa ! that never can be told. She bore it all with
a patience that amazed me, and was never weary in
making provision for us. All the furniture we required
for fitting up the house she gave us â€” beds and many things
besides; her own house was amply provided, and, as to
anything we might need, it seemed as if we were not to
be in want of anything, though her own house might be
so. Among those who were founders of our monasteries
there are some who gave more of their substance, but
there is not one who had the tenth part of the trouble it
cost her; and she, if she had not had children, would
have given everything she had. She longed so earnestly
to see the monastery founded that what she did for that
end seemed to her as nothing.

39. When I saw so much delaying I wrote to the
bishop of Palencia, entreating him to write again to the
archbishop; he was very much displeased with him,
for whatever the latter did for us the bishop regarded as
done to himself; and what amazed us was, that the
archbishop never thought he was doing us the slightest
wrong. I entreated the bishop to write to him and ask
him to give his consent, now that we had a house of our
own, and everything done as he had desired. The
bishop sent me a letter for him â€” it was open â€” but of such
a nature that had we sent it on we should have ruined
everything; and accordingly doctor Manso, my confessor
and adviser, would not let me send the letter, for, though
it was most courteous, it contained some truths which,
considering the temper of the archbishop, were enough
to make him angry â€” he was so already on account of
certain messages the bishop had sent him; they were
very great friends â€” and he said to me that, as they who
were enemies before were made friends at the death of
our Lord, so on my account two friends had become
enemies: I replied, that he might see by that what
sort of a person I was.

40. I had taken especial care as I thought, to keep
them from being angry with one another; I renewed
my entreaties to the bishop, using the best reasons
I could, that he would write another and a very affectionate
letter, representing to him what a service to God it would
be. He did what I asked him to do, and it was not
little: when he saw that his doing so would be a service
rendered to God and a kindness to me â€” he has been
always so uniformly kind to me â€” he did violence to
himself, and, writing to me, said that all he had hitherto
done for the order was nothing in comparison with that
letter. In a word, it answered the purpose in such a
way â€” doctor Manso was pressing at the same time â€”
that the archbishop granted the licence, and sent the
good Hernando Matanza with it, whose pleasure in
bringing it was not a little. That day the sisters were
very much disheartened â€” they had never been so before
â€” and the good Catalina de Tolosa so much so that she
could not be comforted: it seemed as if our Lord would
lay His hand more heavily upon us at the moment He
was about to give us joy; and I, who had not been without hope hitherto, had none the night before. Blessed
and praised be His name for ever, world without end !
Amen.

41. Doctor Manso had leave from the archbishop to
say mass the next day, and to reserve the Most Holy
Sacrament. He said the first mass, and the high mass
was sung by the father prior of S. Paul's of the order of
S. Dominic," to which, as well as the members of the
society, our order has always been greatly indebted.
The father prior sang the mass with very solemn music
played by men who came unasked. All our friends were
much pleased, and so was nearly everybody in the city,
for they were all very sorry to see us in the state we were
in, and thought so ill of the conduct of the archbishop
that I was at times more distressed by what I heard
people say of him than I was at what I had to bear
myself. The joy of the good Catalina de Tolosa and of
the sisters was so great that it kindled my devotion, and
I said unto God, ' O Lord, what other aim have these
thy servants but that of serving Thee, and dwelling
within a cloister, for Thy sake, out of which they are
never to go forth.'

42. Nobody who does not know it by experience will
believe the joy we have in these monasteries when we
find ourselves within the cloister into which no secular
persons may enter; for, however much we may love
them, that love is not strong enough to take from us the
great joy of living alone. If a number of fish be taken
out of the river in a net they cannot live, unless they are
returned to the river. So, it seems to me, is it with souls
accustomed to live in the torrents of the waters of their
Bridegroom: if they be drawn out therefrom by the nets
of the things of this world they do not really live till they
are taken back again. I always see this in the sisters. I
know it by experience: those nuns who are conscious of
a wish to go abroad among seculars, or to converse much
with them, have reason to be afraid that they have never
touched that living water of which our Lord spoke to the
Samaritan woman, and that the Bridegroom has hidden
Himself from them, seeing that they are not content to
dwell alone with Him. I am afraid that this comes from
two sources: either they have not undertaken the religious state for Him alone, or they do not understand
after undertaking: it what a great grace God gave them
when He chose them for Himself, and rescued them
from being subject to man, who very often kills their
body â€” and God grant he may not also kill their soul !
O my Bridegroom, very God and very man ! is this a
grace to be lightly regarded ? Let us praise Him, my
sisters, because He hath given it unto us; and let us
never be weary of praising our Lord and King, who is so
mighty, and who has prepared a kingdom for us, of
which there shall be no end, in return for a little hardship
amid a thousand joys, but which will end to-morrow.
May He be blessed for ever ! Amen, amen."

43, Some time after the house was founded, it was
thought by the father provincial and myself that the endowment furnished by Catalina de Tolosa had certain inconveniences which might end in a lawsuit for us, and in
some trouble for herself: we preferred trusting more in
God, that we might not be the cause of giving her the
slightest annoyance: so, to save her, and for some other
reasons, we all before a notary renounced the property
she had given us, with the sanction of the father provincial, and sent her all the deeds. It was done very
secretly lest it should come to the knowledge of the archbishop, who would consider it a wrong done to himself,
though it was really done to the monastery, for when it
is once known of a house that it is founded in poverty
there is nothing to be afraid of, because everybody helps
it, but when the house is known to be endowed there is
evidently a risk, and it may have to remain for a time
without the means of supplying itself with food. Provision for us after the death of Catalina de Tolosa was
made. Two of her daughters, who were to make their
profession this year in our monastery of Palencia, had renounced their property in her favour should they profess
â€” this renunciation she made them annul, and make
another in favour of this house: another daughter, who
wished to take the habit here, gave her share in her
father's property and in her mother's, which is as much
as the endowment was worth: the only inconvenience
is that the house is not yet in possession of it.

44. But I have always held that the nuns will never
be in want, because our Lord, who sends succour to
monasteries dependent on alms, will raise up people to
do as much for this house, or will find means to maintain
it. Though no house has been founded as this was I
have begged our Lord from time to time, as it was His
will the foundation should be made, to come to its relief,
and supply what is necessary for it; nor did I wish to go
away till I saw if any came into it as nuns. One day,
thinking of this after communion, I heard our Lord say
' Why doubt ? This is now done; thou mayest safely
go ' â€” giving me to understand that the nuns would never
be in want of that which might be necessary for them. I
felt as if I were leaving them amply endowed, and have
never been anxious about them since. I began at once to
make arrangements for my departure, for I seemed as if
I were doing nothing more in the house but taking my
pleasure in it, for it is a house I like exceedingly, while
elsewhere, though I might have more trouble, I might be
of more use.

45. The archbishop and the bishop of Palencia remained
very good friends, for the archbishop at once showed
himself very gracious unto us, and gave the habit to a
daughter" of Catalina de Tolosa, and to another nun"
who soon came in: and until now people have never
failed to provide for us, nor will our Lord leave His
brides to suffer if they serve Him according to the obligations under which they lie. To this end may His
Majesty give them His grace out of His great compassion
and goodness !

J. H. S.

46. I have thought it right to put down in this place
how it was that the nuns of S. Joseph's, Avila â€” the first
monastery that was founded â€” the history of which foundation is written elsewhere, and not in this book, came
under the jurisdiction of the order; the house from the
first being subject to the bishop.

47. When that monastery was founded the bishop was
Don Alvaro de Mendoza, now the bishop of Palencia;
and all the time he was in Avila he was most gracious
unto the nuns. When the monastery was placed under
his jurisdiction I understood from our Lord that it was
advantageous so to place it, and the result fully proved
it; for in all the difficulties of the order we had great
help from him, and on many other occasions we saw it
plainly enough. He never entrusted the visitation of the
monastery to a secular priest, nor did he issue any orders
except those which I begged of him to give. Seventeen
years, more or less, to the best of my recollection," passed
by in this way, nor did I ever think of changing the
jurisdiction. At the end of the seventeen years the
bishopric of Palencia was given to the bishop of Avila.
I was at the time in the monastery of Toledo, and our
Lord said to me it was expedient for the nuns of S.
Joseph's to be under the jurisdiction of the order â€” that
I was to bring it about, for if it were not done the house
would soon become lax. As I had understood it was
right for us to be under the authority of the bishop,' I
thought the locutions were at variance one with another.
I said so to my confessor â€” it was he who is now the bishop
of Osma" â€” a most learned man. He replied that it was
not so in the present case, for what I did formerly must
have been necessary then, and that something else is
necessary now. It is now most clear in many ways that
what he said was true, and that he saw it would be better
for the monastery to be united with the others than to
stand alone. He made me go to Avila to arrange the
matter.

48. I found the bishop was of a very different mind,
and would not at all consent to the change; but when I
told him some of the reasons I had for thinking that
harm might come to the nuns, he set himself to think
them over, for he had a great affection for the nuns, and
as he has a most sound understanding, and as God
helped him, his thoughts led him to other reasons more
weighty than those I had given him, and he resolved to
make the change: though some of the clergy went and
told him it was not expedient, they did not prevail. It
was necessary to have the consent of the nuns: to some
the change was very disagreeable, but, as they loved me
much, they yielded to the reasons I gave them, especially
this â€” that when the bishop, to whom the order owed so
much and whom I loved, was gone, they could not have
me any longer among them. This consideration had
great influence with them, and so this affair, of so much
importance, was settled. Since then all persons see in
what a sad state the monastery would have been if the
chance had not been made. Oh, blessed be our Lord
who rewards with so much solicitude all that concerns His
servants ! May He be blessed for ever ! Amen.

[Note: The bishop consented to the transfer of the jurisdiction on the
condition that he was to continue the patron of the chancel of the church,
and that he was to be buried there wherever he might be when he died .]

END OF THE BOOK OF THE FOUNDATIONS

The Book Of The Foundations

The Foundation Of S Joseph's Convent At Granada

By the Ven. Mother Anne of Jesus

Of the seventeen foundations attributed to S. Teresa two were not
made by her personally. Unable to absent herself from Seville she
sent Mother Anne of S. Albert to make the foundation at Caravaca,
having herself made all the preliminary arrangements. Towards the
end of her life she was requested to found a convent at Granada
but as at the same time that of Burgos was projected she chose the latter,
being the more difficult, for herself, and nominated Anne of Jesus for
the former. This remarkable nun was born at Medina del Campo,
25th November 1545, her father being Don Diego de Lobera, her
mother Francisca de Torres. A deaf-mute from birth she was cured of
her affliction during a pilgrimage to a shrine of our Lady. Bereft of
both parents at the age of nine she was brought up by her grandmother
who formed various projects of marriage for her, personal beauty and
refined manners proving a powerful attraction. But Anne spurned
indiscreet attentions, placed herself under the direction of a saintly
Jesuit, Pedro Rodriguez, who tried her by apparent harshness but
finally consented to her seeking admission into S. Teresa's convent at
Avila, 1st August 1570. The Saint took a great fancy to the newcomer, treated her more as a companion and friend than as a novice,
made her share her own cell, and took her to the foundation of
Salamanca, where she made her mistress of novices even before
profession, which took place 22nd October 1571. Anne accompanied
S. Teresa to Veas (1575) and remained there as prioress enjoying the
friendship and direction of S. John of the Cross during his sojourn at
Baeza. When her term of office drew to its end S. Teresa requested
the nuns not to re-elect her as she had chosen her for the foundation
at Granada then in contemplation. S. John of the Cross went to
Avila to induce S. Teresa herself to come to Granada but failing this he
was glad to have Anne of Jesus. The foundation, though not as
difficult as some others, was by no means easy, and S. Teresa, being but
partially informed and writing from a distance, addressed some strongly
worded letters to Anne, but the good understanding was soon restored.
Anne remained at Granada about four years after which she was
commissioned to carry out another project of Teresa's, then deceased,
namely a foundation at Madrid where she remained eight years. In this
period falls a great trial ; the Superiors of the Discalced Carmelites
having resolved to improve (as they thought) on S. Teresa's work
changed the constitutions of the nuns, a proceeding which was not only
resented but actively resisted by Anne and a considerable number of
nuns who appealed to Rome. They gained their point but were
subjected to severe penalties by the superiors in Spain, the punishment
meted out to Anne of Jesus being particularly severe. During these
years she procured the publication, by Fray Luis de Leon, of the
writings of S. Teresa (with the exception of the Book of Foundations and
the Letters) for which purpose she collected the original manuscripts,
even that of the Life which until then had remained in the hands of
the Inquisition. From 1594 till 1604 she resided at Salamanca, the
convent of her profession, where she filled for some years the position of
prioress. Meanwhile negotiations had been carried on with a view
towards establishing the order in France, and Anne was chosen as first
prioress of the convent of Paris ; other foundations followed, but owing
to difficulties she withdrew to Belgium where she was cordially
welcomed by the Infanta Isabel Clara Eugenia, the daughter of Philip II.
Having set on foot a number of foundations she died at Brussels,
4th March 1621 in the odor of sanctity. Her process of Beatification
has reached that stage where she is declared a ' Venerable servant of
God,' and It Is hoped that ere long it will further advance.

At the request of Father Gratian, then Provincial of the Discalced
Carmelites, Anne of Jesus wrote the following account of the foundation
of Granada.

1. Your Reverence bids me write an account of the
foundation of the convent of Granada. Owing to the
weakness of my head my memory is so defective that
I do not know whether I shall recall the facts ; I will
relate what I can remember.

2. In October eighty-five it was four years since
Father Diego of the Blessed Trinity (whom God hold
in glory !) Vicar of that part of your province, came to
Veas for the canonical visitation. I had then ceased to
be prioress for three or four months, and was very ill.
Although seeing me in such a state he began speaking
seriously about our coming to Granada as many of the
most prominent persons as well as some wealthy young
ladies of good family desired a foundation and offered
substantial donations.

3. It seemed to me that it was only his own good faith
that made him believe in their promised help ; I told
him that I thought their offer an empty compliment, that
they would do nothing, nor would the archbishop' grant
permission for a convent founded in poverty because
there were already so many others which could hardly
maintain themselves, as Granada had lately been laid
waste, and the harvest had failed for several years.
The father saw the force of my argument, but, anxious
to make the foundation, was more hopeful than ever,
and told me that the Licentiate Laguna, auditor at the
Court of Granada, and father (Gaspar) Salazar of the
Society of Jesus, had promised him privately to obtain
the licence of the archbishop.

4. All this appeared to me very uncertain, as afterwards
proved to be the case, but as the father had set his heart
on it I earnestly commended it to God and begged the
sisters to ask Him for light whether the foundation
should be made. His Majesty gave us to understand
very clearly that we were to expect neither human aid
nor favour, but that we ought to found the house
confiding in His providence as we had already done
elsewhere under similar circumstances, and that He
would take care of it and would be greatly served in
it. This came to me after Communion when the
Father Visitor had been at Veas for three weeks urging
the foundation of the convent.

5. In spite of all my doubts and excuses I made up
my mind directly I had communicated ; I said to Sister
Beatrix of S. Michael, the portress who had also communicated : ' Believe me that God wishes the convent of
Granada to be founded ; go and call father John of the
Cross that I may tell him as my confessor what God
has made known to me.' When I had put it before
him in confession Father John thought we should
acquaint Father Visitor so that he might write to your
paternity for the licence. The matter was decided on
that very same day and all that was needed was sent, to
the great joy of the fathers and of the whole community
who knew that the foundation had been decided upon.

6. We wrote to you, also to our holy Mother Teresa
of Jesus, begging that four nuns might be sent from
Castille for the new foundation which we asked her to
come and make herself as we felt confident of its success.
We also arranged that father John of the Cross
with another religious should go and meet the nuns,
taking all that was required for them on their journey.
They went from Veas to Avila to speak to our holy
Mother Teresa of Jesus, and from there sent a messenger
to you at Salamanca.* Seeing the letters you granted all
our requests, leaving to our holy Mother the choice
of the nuns whom we considered requisite.

7. She sent us two from the convent of Avila : Mother
Mary of Christ who had been prioress there for five
years, and Sister Antonia of the Holy Ghost, one of the
four first who had received the habit there ; from
Toledo she gave us Sister Beatriz of Jesus who had
been long professed and was a relative of our holy
Mother. Her Reverence could not come herself as
she was just leaving tor the foundation of Burgos which
took place at the same time. Long before she had
written telling me that when the time came she would
not herself found the house at Granada because she
believed God wished me to undertake the work.

8. It seemed to me impossible to undertake any
foundation without her reverence, so I was distressed
when, on the feast of the Conception of our Lady the
sisters arrived at Veas without her. She told me in
a letter they brought that to please me she wished she
could have come but that our great God had otherwise
ordained ; she felt quite certain that I should manage
matters perfectly well at Granada and that His Majesty
would help me greatly, and this was the beginning
of the troubles which were to follow.

[Note: On the 28th of November S. Teresa wrote to Mother Mary of
S. Joseph, prioress of Seville : ' I have asked you (in another letter of the
same date, now lost) to send two sisters of your convent to Granada ;
I trust you will not choose the least fit ; I beg it of you in charity as
you know how important it is they should be truly perfect and capable.'
On the next day she told the provincial, father Gratian that she had
chosen three nuns from Avila, three from Veas, including Anne of
Jesus as prioress, two from Seville and two lay sisters from Villanueva
de la Jara where there were five. 'Anne of Jesus will be displeased
for she would have liked to make all the arrangements herself.' In fact
she did not receive the two lay sisters but sent them back to their own
convent much to the annoyance of S. Teresa who remonstrated with
her in a letter of 30th May. The reason was that there were neither
sufficient means nor the necessary accommodation for so many nuns, and
Anne acted on the advice of the Vicar-provincial and of S. John of the
Cross ; matters were explained afterwards.
]

9. While the nuns were being fetched from Castille
the Father Vicar Provincial, Diego of the Trinity,
went to Granada to negotiate about the assistance which he
felt confident of receiving, and was to write to us to come
when affairs were all in good train. The zealous priest
must have worked hard to obtain some fulfilment of
the promises made him and to get the licence from the
archbishop. But he could get nothing, still he did not
cease to write to Veas in good confidence (of which
he possessed a large share) about the many advantages
that had been held out to him.

10. I laughed at this and wrote advising him to make
no account of them, but to hire any house he could,
so that we might enter, as the nuns had now arrived
from Castille. The poor father was discouraged, for
he could not even do this : no house was to be found,
and though he had been to see the archbishop and was
supported in his request by two of the senior auditors,
Don Luis de Mercado and the licentiate Laguna, it was
impossible to persuade the archbishop to agree to our
coming. On the contrary he was annoyed at it and
answered bitterly.

11 . He said that he would like to abolish the convents
that were already there, and why should more nuns be
brought to a place where after the years of famine the
people could find nothing to eat ? He made other very
unpleasant remarks. On hearing this the gentlemen
who were advocating the matter for us were annoyed, as
they knew how we were writing from Veas and hurrying
the matter on, and saying how little was required tor the
ten nuns who were to come. They helped the father
secretly and managed to persuade a magistrate of the
city to let a house to us. This being done he wrote
bidding us come, and was deeply grieved at having
nothing more to offer us. We were waiting at Veas
firmly resolved to start as soon as the father let us know
that we could do so as had been settled between father
John of the Cross and the sisters who had been with us
since the thirteenth of January.

12. During the delay I went to make my prayer one
afternoon at the accustomed hour and was meditating
upon the Gospel of the baptism of our Lord where He
says to Saint John ' It becometh us to fulfil all justice.'
I was absorbed in thought and had forgotten all about the
foundation when I heard a loud outcry of confused shouts
which appeared to me to come from devils who were very
angry because a messenger was coming with a letter telling
us to go to Granada. While I was thinking this the noise
grew so loud that I became faint and feeling ill. I drew
close to the Mother prioress who was near bye ; she,
thinking that I was suffering from weakness bade someone to bring me something to eat.

13. I asked them by signs not to do so but to see who
was calling at the turn : they went and found the
messenger with the letter bidding us to start.

14. There arose such a terrible storm that it seemed
the whole world would be drowned with rain and hailstones ; it made me so ill that I thought I was dying.
The doctors and all who saw me considered it impossible
for me to begin the journey for the pains and discomfort
I suffered were agonising. But as they appeared to me
to be supernatural I took courage and urged the others
to get ready the carriages and whatever else was necessary
so that we might start next day. It was Saturday evening
when the messenger arrived and all Sunday I was so ill that I
could not even hear mass though my cell was near the choir.

15. We left at three o'clock on Monday morning, to
the great joy of the whole party, for it seemed to them
that they would render our Lord great service by this expedition. The weather was fine but the state of the
road, owing to the previous storm, such that the mules
could hardly get along ,' When we reached Dayfuentes
the fathers who accompanied us, John of the Cross and
Peter of the Angels, and myself discussed the means of
obtaining the licence of the archbishop and of overcoming
his refusal to allow the foundation.

16. On the night on which we reached Dayfuentes we
heard a terrible thunder clap ; a bolt fell in Granada on
the Archbishop's own house, near the room where he
slept, burning part of his library and killing some of his
mules. It alarmed him so that he fell ill, and they say
that the fright made him feel more kindly towards us, for
no one remembers a thunderbolt ever having fallen at
Granada at this time of the year.

[Note: Two incidents of this journey are recorded in the depositions of
Mother John-Evangelist and Mother Mary of S. John. At one point
the travellers came dangerously near the edge of a precipice down which
they might inevitably have fallen had not a man suddenly appeared and
ordered them to alter their course ; Anne of Jesus afterwards declared
him to have been S. Joseph. Later on they met a man who had been
so badly thrown that he appeared lifeless. Anne bade the nuns join her
in prayer, and after a short time he revived and found himself so well as
to be able to remount his horse and continue the journey. ]

17. On the same day the person who had let the house
to Father Vicar which we were to enter, retracted his
promise and the agreement made with Don Luis de
Mercado and the Licentiate Laguna, alleging that he had
not known it was to be rented for a convent ; now he
would not quit the place nor would any of the people
who lived there. He kept to his word and refused to
be influenced by our two friends though they offered him
fifty thousand ducats security. We were due to arrive in
two days and our friends did not know what to do. Don
Luis de Mercado said to his sister, Dona Ana de Peilalosa
to whom the Father Vicar had not mentioned the matter :
' Sister, as these nuns are already on their way it would
be a good thing if we could offer them hospitality in our
own house and were to give them a room until they can
find some corner in which to shelter themselves.'

18. This excellent lady who for the last two years had
not left her oratory where she wept over the death of her
husband and her only daughter, at once felt her spirits
revive as she told us afterwards. She immediately set to
work to prepare her house and get everything ready for
the chapel and for our lodging. She gave us very good
accommodation although the space was limited, the house
being small. We arrived there on the feast of Saints
Fabian and Sebastian" at three o'clock in the morning,
this being the most suitable hour as we wished to keep
the matter secret. We found the pious lady at the door
of her house where she received us with tears and great
affection.

19. We also wept as we sang Laudate Dominum
overjoyed at seeing the chapel which she had prepared for
us in the porch, although as we had no licence from the
archbishop I begged them to close it ; I also asked the
friars and the Father Vicar who were present not even to
think of ringing a bell or of saying mass either publicly
or privately until we had the consent of the archbishop
which I trusted to Providence he would soon erant.'

20. I wrote to him announcing: our arrival and begging him to come and give us his blessing and place the
Blessed Sacrament in our chapel, for although it was a
feast day we should not hear Mass without his permission.
He answered very kindly telling us we were welcome,
that he was exceedingly glad that we had come, and
would have liked to get up and say our first Mass for
us, but as he was ill he sent his provisor to say it and to
do whatever else I might require.

21. The latter arrived soon afterwards, at seven
o'clock in the morning. i begged him to say Mass, to
give us all Holy Communion and to place the Blessed
Sacrament on the altar. He did so with great solemnity
in the presence of the auditors and so great a concourse of
people that it was wonderful how they could have heard
of the matter thus quickly. By eight o'clock in the
morning of the day we came the Blessed Sacrament had
been placed in the chapel and more masses were being
said.

22. All Granada came to the place as if they had come
to gain a Jubilee ; they cried unanimously that we were
saints, and that God had visited their town by bringing us.
On the same day Don Luis de Mercado and the Licentiate
Laguna called on the Archbishop who was ill from the
effects of the thunderbolt which had fallen two days
before. They found him in a violent passion at our
arrival. '5 They asked him if he was so annoyed why had
he given us permission to found our convent ? He
answered : ' I could not help it, I was forced to act as I
did, though very repugnant because I do not wish to see
nuns in my diocese. But I do not intend to give them
anything for I cannot maintain the communities I have
already.' Thus we began to be really poor, both in name
and in fact.

23. The alms bestowed on us by Dona Ana were very
small and other people gave us nothing as we were living
in her house to which all the poor had resort and from
which large sums were given to nearly all the religious
houses and hospitals in the town. Thus, no one supposed
that we were in want and on several days we should not
have been able to feed ourselves on what this lady gave
us if our Discalced Fathers of the convent of Los Martires
had not sent us some bread and fish. They themselves
were very badly off on account of the great dearth and
scarcity from which Andalucia suffered that year.

24. We had no other bedding except what we had
brought with us, which was so little that only two or
three could sleep on it, and most of us were obliged to
rest during the night on some rush mats that were in the
choir. We were so delighted at this that, in case it
might be stopped, we let nobody know of our need ; above
all we hid it from our devout hostess lest we might be
troublesome to her. As she saw that we always looked
satisfied and contented, and believing that we were good
and mortified nuns, she did not notice that we required
anything more than she had driven us. It was thus that
we passed the greater part of the seven months we lived
in her house.

25. During that time we received many visitors
belonging to the best society of the town, besides religious
of all the Orders, who spoke of nothing else but our
rashness in founding houses in such poverty, destitute of
all human aid. We answered that it was this which
guaranteed Divine support and that our confidence in
God, after the many proofs He had given to our
convents of His care and providence, removed all our
anxiety about their foundation. Indeed, we preferred it
to any other way, for we thought it was the safest course.
Our visitors laughed very much at our words and at
how contented we were in our tiny enclosure which we
were so strict in keeping that even Don Luis de Mercado,
who lived in the same house, had never seen us without
our veils down and no one knew what our faces looked
like.

26. In this we were not doing more than our Rule
obliges us, but that is thought very highly of in Granada.
Many persons of all classes came to ask for the habit but
although they numbered more than two hundred we did
not see one whom we could receive conformably to our
Constitutions. We therefore avoided speaking to some
of them and put the others off, telling them that they
must learn to know our mode of life first and that we
were bound to test their vocation. Besides which, we
could not take fresh members until we had another
house, as we had room for no more. We made great
efforts, to find another dwelling, but no place could be
had, either for hire or for sale.

27. I felt rather troubled at times by lack of aid from
the inhabitants of the town, but whenever I thought
about it, I seemed to hear the words Christ our Lord
said to His apostles : ' When I sent you without purse
and scrip and shoes, did you want anything .'' ' ' and my
soul replied : ' No indeed, Lord ! ' in full confidence that
both in spiritual and temporal matters. His Majesty
would provide for us abundantly.

28. All this did not happen without a special purpose,
for the most distinguished priests and preachers of the
city came and said masses and gave us their sermons,
almost without our asking them. They liked to hear
our confessions and to learn about our life. This
increased the trust I felt in my heart that we should
want for nothing, which trust was given me by God as it
arose from an incident which occurred directly I came to
the place. I heard interiorly the words, uttered with
great stress and emphasis : ' Scapulis suis ohumbrahit tilbi
etsuhpennis ejus sperabis.' I related this to my confessor,
Father John of the Cross, and to Father Master JohnBaptist de Ribera of the Society of Jesus to whom I told
all that happened to me both in and out of confession.
It appeared to both of them to be a sort of pledge, given
me by our Lord, that this foundation would be prosperous, as up to this time, that is during four years, it
has been, blessed be His name ! The sisters who came
with me assure me that during all this time they have
experienced a deeper sense of the presence of His
Majesty and of His communications than ever before in
their lives.

29. This became evident both in their own advancement and in that which everyone said was caused by their
example in the convents in the city. I learnt from the
President, Don Pedro de Castro, that a great change for
the better had taken place in these nuns since we came,
and there are large numbers of them in Granada. To
the favours granted by God which I have already mentioned He added another signal grace â€” that of so
realising that our Lord Jesus Christ kept us company in
the Blessed Sacrament of the altar, that we seemed to
perceive His bodily Presence visibly. This was so usual
and so universal, that we often spoke to one another
about it, saying that the Blessed Sacrament never had
produced the same effect upon us in any other place.
This consolation which we felt directly it was placed in the
chapel, still remains with some of us, although not so
perceptibly as during the first seven months.

30. At the end of this period ' we found a house
to rent which we entered in perfect secrecy, without the
knowledge of the landlord, the former tenant having): left
it empty. You had then come from Baeza to look after
our interests. Nothing more could be done until ten
months afterwards when our Lord began to inspire some
young ladies of the first families of the city with a serious
desire of joining us. Encouraged by their confessors
without asking leave of their parents and relations who
would never have consented to their entering so austere
an Order, they came, unknown to anyone, to take our
habit.

31. After a few days six of them were clothed with
great solemnity. Their relatives were very indignant
and the whole city was disturbed, for people thought it
was a terrible thing to enter our community. Many
persons, we were told, took great care to prevent their
daughters visiting us, for the mother and father of sister
Marianne of Jesus, the first whom we received, died soon
afterwards, and report said that their death was caused by
grief. As for her, she has never repented having come,
on the contrary, she is very happy and grateful to our
Lord for having called her to this Order. She has turned
out very well, as have all those who entered with her at
that time, also those whom we have received since .

32. When they were professed we tried to purchase a
house with their dowries but although we negotiated for
several and the agreements were actually written out,
yet the purchase was never made until we decided upon
one belonging to the Duke de Sesa, Yet there were
such great obstacles to this purchase that it seemed madness to fix upon it, as everyone said, although it was the
most suitable for us and the most favourably situated in
Granada. However, I resolved to try to obtain it, for
two years ago the sister who acts as my secretary (whom
I do not name for you know well who she is) told me
that our Lord had three times given her to understand
that the convent was to be in the Duke's house, and she
knew this with such certainty that nothing would be able
to prevent it. Now it has come to pass, as your Reverence is aware, and we are living there at present.

Anne of Jesus.

The Book Of The Foundations

The Visitation Of The Nunneries

I. Humility. â€” 2. Temporals. â€” 3. The visitor must be firm. â€” 4. Danger
of slight relaxations.â€” 5. Time brings laxity. â€” 6. Humility. â€” 7.
The visitor must be strict. â€” 8. And remove unfit prioresses. â€” 9,
Of the endowed houses. â€” i o. The houses unendowed. â€” 11 . Handi-work of the nuns not to be passed over. â€” 12. Extravagance. â€” 13.
The monasteries not to be large houses. â€” 14. Of the interior
arrangements. â€” 15. The inquisition to be strict. â€” 16. Of the interior discipline of the house. â€” 17. The nuns may not go from one
house to another to please themselves. â€” 18. Particular friendships. â€”
19. Of nuns who find fault. â€” 20. Importance of keeping the Constitutions. â€” 21. The visitor to be told everything. â€” 22. Sincerity
in the visited. â€” 23. Innovations strictly forbidden. â€” 24. The
admission of novices. â€” 25. Profession. â€” 26. Lay Sisters. â€” 27. The
number of nuns. â€” 28. Indiscreet devotions. â€” 29. Of the singing in
choir. â€” 30. Precautions against negligence. â€” 31. All faults to be
manifested. â€” 32. The visitor to keep the secret. â€” 33. Especially
from the prioress. â€” 34. Poverty to be strictly observed. â€” 35.
Necessity of exactness in the visitor. â€” 36. The obligations of nuns
under the visitation. â€” 37. Of the confessor. â€” 38. Economy. â€” 39.
Of the dress. â€” 40. And language. â€” 41. Lawsuits to be avoided. â€”
42. The admission of novices. â€” 43. The visitor to be cautious in
his conduct. â€” 44. And diligent in his visit. â€” 45. Entertainment
of the visitor. â€” 46. Fray Jerome of the Mother of God. â€” 47. The
visitor must not be too friendly with the prioress. â€” 48. Self-deceit.
â€” 49. Difficult to overcome. â€” Letter to Father Jerome Gratian.

J. H. S.

1. First of all, I confess my imperfection when I began
this work, in the matter of obedience, for, while desirous
of the possession of that virtue above all others, my
mortification has been very great and my reluctance strong.
May it please our Lord that I may say something to the
purpose, for my only trust is in His compassion, and in
the humility of him who has ordered me to write ; for
the sake of which, God, being all-mighty, will do the
work without regard unto me.

1. Though it may be considered unseemly to begin
with the temporal, I think it of the utmost consequence,
in order that the spiritual may always make greater progress, though it does not seem so in monasteries founded
in poverty : besides, order is necessary everywhere, and
the government and arrangement of everything must be
considered.

3. I take it for granted, in the first place, that it is in
the highest degree necessary for a superior to carry himself towards his subjects in this way â€” he should be gentle
with them on the one hand, and show them affection ;
and on the other hand he should make them feel that he
will be strict in essential matters, and never yield to their
caprice. I do not believe that anything in the world does
so much harm to a superior as the not being feared, and
that his subjects should think they can deal with him as
with an equal, especially when women are concerned ; for
if they once see such softness in their superior as makes
him overlook their shortcomings, and change his mind
lest they should be made uneasy, the government of
them will be a very difficult matter.

4. It is very necessary they should feel that there is
one above them without mercy for anything that weakens
the observances of religion, and that the judge should be
so upright in judgment as to convince them he will never
swerve from that which tends to the advancement of the
service of God, and to greater perfection, even if the
world were to come to an end. He should be gentle and
affectionate with them, but only so long as he discerns
no falling away ; for as it is necessary for him to show
himself gentle and like a loving father â€” which helps much
to console them and to keep them from being estranged
from him â€” it is necessary also to be strict, as I have just
said. If he fails in either of these two conditions, it is
beyond comparison better he should fail in gentleness
rather than in strictness ; for, as the visitation, in order
to correct affectionately and root out imperfections gradually, is made but once a year, unless the nuns understand
that their faults will be redressed and punished at the
year's end, one year after another may pass away, and
religious observances may be so relaxed as to make it impossible to restore them at will ; for, even if the fault be
in the prioress, the nuns themselves have become accustomed to relaxation, and thus, by degrees and by little
things, irreparable wrong may be done to religion. But
the superior who shall not redress it in time will have a
fearful account to give unto God,

5. I think that in speaking of such things I am doing
a wrong to the monasteries of the Virgin our Lady, when,
by the goodness of our Lord, they are so far from needing this severity ; but I am driven to say it by the fear I
am in that time, as usual, will bring laxity into the
monasteries through a disregard of these principles, and
also because I see the monasteries, by the goodness of
God, grow more and more daily, in some of which, perhaps,
some flaw might be found if the prelates were not to see
that observed of which I am speaking, namely, a severe
correction of small faults, and the removal of prioresses
found to be unfit for their places.

6. It is necessary in this matter, above all things, to
be without pity, for there are many nuns who are great
saints, but yet unfit for the place of the prioress : that
must be seen to at once ; for in an order wherein there
is so much mortification, and wherein the exercise of
humility is so constant, no nun will consider it a wrong
done to her : should she do so, she will thereby show
plainly that she was not fit for the office, for the government of souls aiming at a perfection so high is not for
her who is so imperfect herself as to wish to be a
prioress.

7. The visitor must have the fear of God continually
before him, and also the graces bestowed on these houses,
that they may not be lessened through him, and he must
cast aside certain feelings of tenderness which, for the
most part, the devil stirs up for some great evil. Not to
do so is the greatest cruelty towards his subjects.

8. It is not possible that every one whom the nuns
may choose for prioress should be possessed of the gifts
which the office requires, and if it should be found to be
so a year must not pass by on any account before she is
removed : she may not do much harm in one year but
in three she may ruin the monastery by allowing imperfections to grow into a custom. It is so extremely important that this be done, and though the visitor be distressed at it because he thinks her a saint, and that she
has no bad intentions, he must do violence to himself,
and not allow her to remain in office. I entreat him to
do so by the love of our Lord, and if he shall see that
those who have to elect a prioress are under the influence
of any prejudice or passion â€” which God forbid â€” he must
quash the election, and name a prioress from other
monasteries of ours whom the nuns are to elect ; for an
election made that way can never come to any good.

9. I do not know whether what I am speaking about
is temporal or spiritual. What I wished to speak about
at first was this â€” the visitor must look closely and carefully into the accounts of the house, and he must not
pass them lightly. It is very necessary, especially in the
endowed houses, that the outgoings be according to the
incomings, let the nuns live as they may, for, God be
praised ! all of them are so well endowed that they can
live very well if they are at all careful : otherwise, if they
begin to run into debt they will be ruined by little and
little, for if they should be in great want the superiors
will think it cruel not to let them have the fruit of the
work of their own hands, or not to let their kindred
provide for them, or something of that sort not hitherto
allowed among us ; for I would much rather see the
monastery broken up than see it come to such a pass.
This is why I said that great harm is wont to come to
the spiritual from the temporal, and in that sense it is a
most important matter.

10. In the monasteries founded in poverty they must
look to it, and take care that they make no debts ; for if
they have faith and please God He will not abandon
them if they are not wasteful. In these houses, as well
as in the others, the visitor must make most minute inquiries concerning the food of the sisters, and the treatment they receive ; concerning the sick also, and he must
see that they are sufficiently supplied with whatever is
necessary for them, which our Lord never fails to furnish
if the prioress is courageous and attentive ; and experience has already shown it to be so.

11. To notice the work done in the monasteries of
both foundations, and further to take into account what
the nuns have made by the labour of their hands, serves
two good purposes ; one is, that the nuns who have done
much are encouraged and rewarded ; the other is, that in
those monasteries where so much attention is not given
to handiwork, because the necessities are not so great, the
nuns may be told of what nuns elsewhere have gained for
themselves ; for this attention paid to their work, setting
aside the temporal advantage, profits greatly in every
way. Besides, it is a comfort to the nuns when at work
to know that the superior will see it ; for, though that is
not of any importance, still that comfort should be given
to women so strictly enclosed, and whose whole pleasure
consists in pleasing their superior, coming down at times
to the level of our weakness.

12. The visitor must inquire if any costly presents
have been made. Such an inquiry is more especially
necessary in the endowed houses, for they are able to do
more in that way, and monasteries usually come to ruin
through that which seems to be of slight importance.
Prioresses, if wasteful, may leave their nuns without food
that they may have something to give away, as may be
seen in some places : hence the necessity of considering
what the community may do out of its income, and what
it may give in alms, and of having everything done within the bounds of discretion.

13. The visitor must not allow the houses to be
excessively large, and they must not get into debt
adorning them or by adding to them except under a pressing necessity : to secure this, it will be necessary to
command that no work shall be done without first giving
notice to the superior, with an account of the means for
doing it, in order that he, according to circumstances,
may give or withhold his sanction. This is not to be
understood of little matters, which can do no great harm ;
but it is better to bear the inconvenience of being in a
house that is not a very good one than to go about disquieting themselves, become a scandal because of their
debts, or be without food to eat.

14. It is of great consequence always to examine the
house thoroughly, in order to see that enclosure is observed, because it is well to take away all opportunities of
evil, and not to trust the goodness that is visible, how
great soever it may be, for no one can tell what it will be
in times to come ; and hence it becomes necessary to
think of all the evil that may arise, for the purpose of
removing, as I have just said, all opportunities for it.
The parlours must be looked into particularly, of which
the grating should be double, an inner grating and an
outer one, through neither of which should it be possible
for anybody to thrust his hand. This is of great importance ; and the visitor must look into the confessionals,
and see that the curtains thereof are nailed, and the little
window for communion small. As to the outer door, he
must see that it has two bolts, and there are two keys to
the door of the cloisters, as the chapter acts prescribe,
one of which shall be kept by the portress, the other by
the prioress. It is so at present, I know, but I set it
down here that it may never be forgotten â€” for these are
all matters which it is necessary to look into always â€” and
that the nuns may see it will be looked into, that no
negligence may creep in.

15. The visitor must make inquiries about the chaplain
and the confessor, and see that there is not too frequent
a communication between them and the nuns, but only
that which is necessary ; and on this point he must make
very special inquiries of the nuns, and about the observance of enclosure in the house. If a sister becomes
infatuated he must hear her patiently, for though very
often she will think things to be other than they are, and
fall into exaggerations, yet he may receive hints from her
which will enable him to find out the truth from the
others, laying his commands upon them to speak it ; and
afterwards he shall chastise the fault with severity, that
they may be afraid to repeat it.

16. If any sisters, when the prioress is not in fault,
shall dwell on trifles, or make much of little things in
their story, severity is necessary in dealing with them,
and they must be made to see their own blindness, that
they may not live on in their restlessness ; for when they
shall see that they gain nothing by it, and that they are
found out, they will become quiet. When the things
complained of are not of grave importance, the visitor
must always take the part of the prioress, though he does
correct what is amiss, because the simplicity of perfect
obedience tends greatly to the peace of the subjects ; for
the devil may be tempting some of them to think that
they understand the matter better than the prioress, and
to continue always on the watch for trifles, whereby great
harm may ensue. The superior, in his discretion, will
apply himself to this, so that when he departs he may
leave them in a better state : if, however, they be given
to melancholy, he will have enough to do. He must not
be gentle with melancholy nuns, because they will never
be at rest, nor will they cease from being troublesome if
they think they can have their own way in anything ; on
the contrary, they should be made to feel always that
they are to be corrected, and for that end the visitor
must take the part of the prioress.

17. If a sister chance to make any attempts to get herself removed to another monastery, she must be answered
in such a way that both herself and every one else shall
for ever feel it to be impossible. Nobody, indeed, unless
it be one who has seen it, can know the very grave inconveniences that arise, and what a door is opened for the
devil to tempt them, when they think they can leave the
house for the weighty reasons which, for that purpose,
they are sure to urge. And, though it might be that
they are to be removed, they must not be allowed to
know it or to feel that it is done because they wished it,
but it must be brought about by some other means ; for
a nun of this kind will never be settled anywhere, and
great harm will be done to the others if they are not
made to see that the nun who wishes to leave her house
is one whom the superior will never trust in anything ;
and even if he had meant to remove her â€” I mean for
some necessary work or for another foundation â€” he should
never do so for that very reason. And, moreover, it is
right thus to act, for these temptations never attack any
but nuns given to melancholy, or nuns who are naturally
useless for any great work. Perhaps it would be as well,
before a nun speaks of her wish to be removed, for the
visitor to make a discourse on the subject, showing how
wrong it is, and how ill he thinks of any one caught in the
toils of this temptation, and to explain the reasons, and
to say how impossible it is now for any one to leave the
house she is in, none of them being any longer necessary
anywhere out of their houses.

[Note: The Saint, in a letter to Fray Jerome of the Mother of God, then,
by decree of the nuncio, visitor of the order, writes as follows : â€” ' Attend
to this, my father, and believe me I understand the caprices of women
better than you do : it is not good either for prioresses or their subjects
that you should let them know it is possible for any one to be removed
from one house to another, except when new foundations are made.
Even the expectation of that change really does harm, and I have often
wished that no more foundations were made, that every one may be
settled where she is. Believe me, â€” and if I die do not forget it â€” Satan
wants nothing more than that cloistered women should think anything
possible. I have much to say about this, for, though I have leave from
our father-general â€” I asked for it â€” to remove a nun when I saw the
climate did not agree with her, I have since then seen so many inconveniences ensue that, were it not for the good of the order, I should
not do it, for it is much better that some nuns should die than that
all the nuns should be injured ' (Letter of the end of 1575). ]

18. The visitor must inquire whether the prioress has
a special friend among the nuns for whom she does more
than for the rest, for unless she does so there is no reason
for adverting to it, if the friendship be not excessive â€” the
prioresses being always under the necessity of conversing
more with the wiser and discreeter nuns. But, as we
naturally do not see ourselves as we really are, we all of
us think ourselves as good as anybody else, and accordingly the devil may tempt some of them in this way ; for
in the absence of serious troubles from without Satan stirs
up trifles within, that we may be always at war and gain
merit by resisting his assaults, whence it comes that a sister
may think that this sister or those sisters rule the prioress.
If the friendship be in excess it should be checked, because
it is a great temptation to the weak, but not wholly forbidden, because those who are the objects of it may be,
as I have just said, such as may make it necessary ; but it
is always well to insist upon the absence of any special
familiarity with any one. The nature of it will soon be
known.

19. There are some who in their own opinion are so
excessively perfect that they consider everything they see
to be a fault, being always themselves the very persons
who have the most faults, but, seeing none of them, they
lay the whole blame on the poor prioress or on the others.
and so may make the superior foolishly torment himself
In searching for a remedy for that which is right. It is
therefore necessary, in order to be safe in correcting, not
to trust the testimony of one nun by herself, as I said
before, but to make inquiries of the others ; for in a
community where so much austerity is practised it would
be insufferable if every superior, or the same superior at
every visitation, were to make new decrees ; and therefore, except in grave matters â€” and, as I said before, after
inquiries made of the prioress herself and of the others
concerning that which is to be corrected, and why and
how â€” the visitor must not make decrees, for he may
make so many that the nuns, unable to endure them, may
fail to keep the substance of the rule itself.

[Note: The Saint was very much afraid of the friars on this point, and had
complained of this heavy burdening of her nuns to Fray Jerome of the
Mother of God, as early as 1576. In a letter written to him 19th
November of that year, she cries out against the heavy burdens which
Fray Juan of Jesus had laid upon his friars. The austere friar seems to
have forbidden the religious who communicated in the morning to
appear at the recreation, at which the Saint, in her indignation, asks
what are the priests then to do ? ' This is what my nuns are afraid of :
they are afraid of harsh visitors who will overwhelm and crush them . . .
It is strange nobody thinks he has made a visitation if he has not made
decrees. If there is to be no recreation on the days of communion, and
yet mass is said daily, there will be then no recreation at all. If the
priests do not observe such a rule, why should other poor people have to
keep it r . . . The mere reading of these decrees frets me : what should
I do if I had to keep them ? Believe me, our rule cannot bear austere
men : it is austere enough as it is.' The visitor had laid down this rule
only for those who were not in priests' orders â€” lay brothers and clerics â€”
but the Saint and her nuns were afraid he might introduce It also among
themselves. ]

20. What the superior has to insist on is the keeping
of the constitutions : and wherever there shall be a prioress
who for trifling reasons shall take so great a liberty as to
break the constitutions, or shall habitually do so, thinking on the observance of them on this point and on that to be a
matter of little moment, let it be clearly understood she
is doing the community a grievous wrong, and time will
show it, though it may not seem so at present. This is
the reason why monasteries, and even orders are so fallen
in some places ; slight things are slightly regarded, and
hence the most grievous falls.

21. The visitor must publicly warn them that they are
to tell him of every fault of this kind in the monastery,
and if he find any of which nothing is said let her who
has not told him of it receive a most severe correction.
This will make the prioresses afraid and cautious. He
must never compromise matters with the prioresses,
whether they are distressed or not, but they must be
made to understand that so matters must always be, and
that the chief reason why they are in office is that they
are to see that the rules and constitutions are kept ; not
to take away from them nor to add to them of their own
head ; and that there must be one to see to this, and to
tell the superior of it.

22. I consider it to be impossible for that prioress to
have discharged the duties of her office aright who has
done anything which she shall be sorry for if it comes to
the knowledge of the visitor, for that is a sign that the
service of God has not been carried on aright, if anything therein has been done which I do not wish him to hear
of who stands in His place. The visitor, then, must
consider whether what is told him is told him simply and
truly : if not, he must rebuke with severity, and contrive
to have the truth told him through the prioress or the
officers, or in some other way ; for, though the nuns may
not have told him what is untrue, they may yet have
hidden some things from him ; nor is it reasonable that
he should not know everything who is the head, and
under whose direction they are bound to live, for the
body can hardly do anything that is good without the
head, and that is what the nuns are doing when they hide
from the visitor that which he ought to correct, I end with
this : everything will go on well provided the constitutions
are kept ; and if great care be not taken herein, and in the
keeping of the rule, visitations will be of little use â€” for
that is the meaning of them â€” unless the prioress be
changed and even the nuns too, it that be the custom of
the house, which God forbid, and other nuns he brought
in who shall perfectly keep the rule â€” which is nothing
less than making a new foundation in the house â€” and the
community be dispersed among other monasteries, for
one or two of them can do little harm in a community
that is well governed.

23. It is to be observed that there may be prioresses
who will ask leave to be at liberty to do certain things
contrary to the constitutions, and who probably will give
what they perhaps think sufficient reasons to justify them,
because they know no better, or because they wish to
make the superior understand it to be necessary. And,
though what they ask may not be contrary to the constitutions, still it may be such as will work mischief if
allowed, for as the visitor is not present on the spot, he
does not know what evil results may follow, and we all
of us overrate what we wish to have. The best course
therefore is, not to open the door to anything unless it be
in accordance with the present discipline, seeing that
everything is going on well, as experience also tells us :
that which is certain is better than that which is doubtful.
In these cases the visitor must be firm, and he must not
mind saying ' No,' but rather maintain that freedom and
holy authority of which I spoke in the beginning, regardless of any pain or pleasure he may give either prioresses
or nuns, about anything which in the course of time may
lead to inconvenience ; and it is enough that it is a
novelty not to make a beginning.

24. As to permission to admit nuns, it is very important the superior should not grant it before he receives a
minute account of them, and if he should be in a place
where he can make inquiries himself he ought to do so :
for there may be prioresses so fond of admitting nuns as
to be very easily satisfied, and when the prioress wills a
thing, and says that she has made inquiries, her subjects
almost always yield to her wishes ; and it may be that
she is led by friendship for one, or by kinship, or by
some other considerations, thinking she is doing right,
while at the same time she is doing wrong.

25. Mistakes in admitting novices may be more easily
corrected ; but the very greatest care is necessary in receiving their profession, and the superior, during his
visitation, ought to ascertain if there be any novices, and
how they behave themselves, that he may know, when
the time is come for sanctioning their profession, whether
it should be made or not. It is possible that the prioress
may be fond of a novice, or have an interest in her, and
that the nuns her subjects dare not say what they think
of her, but yet would tell the visitor ; it would be better,
therefore, to delay the profession, if about to be made,
till the superior makes his visitation, and for him, besides,
if he should think it right, to bid them give their votes
secretly, as at an election. So important is it that there
shall be nothing in the house which shall be a life-long
vexation and trouble, and every care taken to guard
against it is well bestowed.

26. Great carefulness is necessary in admitting lay-sisters ;
almost all prioresses are very fond of having many lay
sisters, burdening the houses with them, and sometimes
with such as are able to do (little or no work. It is,
therefore, very necessary not to yield at once herein, unless he should see that there is a great want of them ; he,
must also make inquiries concerning those who are
already in the house, for great harm may come if great
caution be not had, because there is no limit to the
number of lay sisters.

27. In every house care must be taken not to fill up
the number of the nuns ; but to leave room for more,
for a nun may offer herself whom to receive would be
good for the house, and that at a time when it cannot be
done : the superior must never consent to allow the
number to be exceeded on any account whatever, for that
is to open the door to, and means nothing less than, the
ruin of the monasteries. It is better, therefore, to hinder
the gain of one than to do harm to all the others. A
nun may be removed from her own house into a monastery that is not full, to make room for another ; and if
she brought a dower with her, or any alms had been received with her, let it be given back to her, for she is
going away for ever, and thus the difficulty will be met.

But, if this cannot be done, let the house lose what it
may, but do not let us begin a practice so hurtful to
everybody. It is necessary the superior should be told,
when he is asked to allow a nun to be received, how
many there are in the house, that he may judge of the
fitness of doing so, for it is not reasonable to trust a
matter of such importance to the prioresses.

28. It is necessary to ascertain whether the prioresses
add to the obligations of the nuns, either in the matter of
prayers or in their penances. It may happen that each
prioress may add something at her own pleasure, of so
special a nature, and be so severe in exacting it, that the
nuns, overburdened, may lose their health, and be made
thereby unable to discharge their real obligations. This
is not meant as a prohibition of all additions, if on any
particular day some special need should be felt ; some
prioresses, however, may be so unwise as to make almost
a habit of it, as it often happens, and the nuns dare not
speak out, thinking, if they were to do so, that it would
show them to have but little devotion : nor is it right
they should speak to any one but the superiors.

29. The visitor must see to the office in choir, both
the singing and the saying : he must inquire if the pauses
be observed, and if the chanting be in a low tone, and
edifying, as our profession requires â€” there being two inconveniences in singing in a high tone ; one is, that it
does not sound well, as we do not sing in harmony ; the
other is, that it destroys the modesty and spirit of our way of
life. If this be not insisted on there will be of necessity
disorder, and devotion will be ruined in those who listen :
the singing should be that of persons given to mortification,
rather than that of those who would be thought to sing
well by people who hear them : that is now almost universal, and seemingly beyond redress, having become a
custom : it is necessary, therefore, to insist strongly upon
this.

30. It will be a great help if the visitor were to order
one of the nuns in office, in the presence of the prioress,
in virtue of obedience, to write to him whenever the
latter fails in any of the important matters he may have
charged her to observe ; and the prioress should be
made to understand that the nun must not fail to do so.
This will have the effect of the presence of the visitor in
some degree, and the prioress will be more watchful and
cautious about giving way on any point.

31. It will be well, before entering on the visitations,
to explain very distinctly how wrong it is for prioresses
to entertain a dislike for those sisters who tell the visitor
of the faults they may observe : though the faults may
not really be what they think they are, they are bound in
conscience to speak of them ; and, in a house where life
is one of mortification, the doing of this should be
pleasing to a prioress, because it enables her the better to
discharge her office and to serve God ; but if it causes
her to be vexed with the nuns it is a certain sign that she
is not fit to govern them, for they will not dare to speak
another time, seeing that the visitor goes away while they
remain in their trouble themselves, and all the discipline
of the house will be weakened. He must not trust the
sanctity of the prioress, whatever it may be, as a reason
for omitting to warn the sisters of this, for we are
naturally inclined to evil, and the enemy, when he has
nothing else to lay hold of, will lay his hands upon us
here, and perhaps gain what he may be losing in other
ways.

32. It is necessary that the visitor should keep all he
hears profoundly secret, and that the prioress should not
know who has given him his information ; because, as I
have said before, they are still in this world, and, if
secrecy does nothing else, it removes certain temptations ;
much more, then, is it necessary when such knowledge
can do overt harm.

33. If the things told of the prioress be unimportant,
she may be cautioned about them indirectly, without
letting her feel that the nuns have spoken of them ; the
more she can be made to think that they had nothing to
say, the better. But if the things are important it is of
more consequence to redress them than to please her.

34. The visitor must ascertain if any money is received
by the prioress of which the keepers of the keys have no
knowledge. This is a matter of great consequence, for a
prioress may keep it without thinking of it, and she may
possess nothing at any time otherwise than as the constitutions direct. This must be looked to also in the houses
founded in poverty. I think I have spoken of this
before,'' and there may be other things said in the same
place to the same effect ; but, as it was some time ago, I
have forgotten it, and I cannot go back to read what I
have written.

35. It is a heavy burden for the visitor to attend to all
these little things, but he will have a heavier burden to
bear when he shall see the state of the nuns if it be not
done ; for, as I said before,'' let the prioress be ever so
saintly, it must be done. What is necessary above all
things in the government of women, as I said in the
beginning,' is that they must feel they have one who is
above them â€” one who will not be moved by any consideration whatever, but who himself keeps, and compels
others to keep, all religious observances, punishes those
who do not, and sees that It Is done with special carefulness in every house â€” one who not only must visit them
every year, but who must also know what they are doing
each day. If this be done the nuns will grow in perfection more and more, and will not go back, for women in
general are reverent and timid. All this will have a great
effect in keeping them from becoming careless ; and now
and then, whenever necessary, not only is this to be told
them, but also acted upon, for they will all take warning
if one be punished. If at first, when faults are few, the
visitor should, out of tenderness or on some other ground,
act otherwise, he will be forced later on to proceed with
greater severity, and his tenderness will become the most
grievous cruelty, and the account he will have to give to
God our Lord will be very heavy.'"*

36. There are nuns whose simplicity is so great that
they think it very wrong to tell the faults of the prioress
In matters which should be corrected : though they may
regard that telling as something mean, they must be
reminded of their duty, and they must also humbly warn
the prioress beforehand if they see her about to fail in the
observance of the constitutions or In any important matter,
for it may be that she is not aware of it. These very
nuns, although they may have told the prioress she might
do what she is doing amiss, will accuse her of that at a
later time when discontented with her. There prevails
great ignorance as to that which ought to be done during
a visitation, and therefore is it necessary that the visitor
should continue to advise and teach them with discretion.
inquiries about the confessor, not of one nun nor of two,
but of all, and about his influence in the house ; for, as
he is not and ought not to be the vicar, and as the office of
vicar is withheld from him that he may not govern the
nuns, it is necessary that all communication with him
should be under great restraints, and the less it is the
better.' Great caution must be observed in making
presents and giving entertainments to him, unless very
slight, though now and then something of the kind becomes unavoidable. Let them pay him more than the
salary of the chaplaincy rather than be subject to anxiety,
for there are many inconveniences herein.

38. It is also necessary to warn the prioresses not to be
prodigal and wasteful ; they must remember that they are
bound to watch over the expenditure of the house, for they
are no more than stewards : they must spend nothing
as if it were their own, and they must be reasonable
and cautious, and be careful that there is nothing wasted ;
for, setting aside the obligation they are under not to
give scandal, they are also bound to this in conscience,
and to watch over the temporals of their house, and to
have nothing of their own more than any of the rest, unless it be the key of a drawer or a writing-desk for keeping
papers in â€” I mean by that letters, and especially instructions given by the superior, it being but reasonable that
these things, or others of the kind, should not be seen by
everybody.

39. The visitor must see whether the habit and the
headgear are worn according to the constitutions ; and if
there should be anything at any time â€” which God forbid
â€” that seems fine or not quite edifying, he must have it
burnt in his presence ; for an act of this sort makes them
afraid, they correct themselves at once, and remember it
for the good of those who are to come after them.

40. He must also regard their way of talking, which
should be simple, plain, and religious, like that of hermits,
and of persons who have left the world without using
novel expressions â€” niceties of speech, I think they call
them â€” as is done in the world, where there is always
some novelty. Let them prefer common expressions to
those which are more refined.

41. The sisters must avoid lawsuits as much as possible
and go to law only when they cannot help it ; for our
Lord will give them in another way what they may lose
by yielding. The visitor must lead them to do that
which is the most perfect, and command them to be neither
plaintiffs nor defendants without the knowledge of the
superior, and without a special order from him.

42. And, as to the novices to be admitted, the visitor
is to persevere in reminding the prioresses that they must
look more to their gifts than to any dowry they may
bring with them, and accept none for any consideration
whatsoever otherwise than as the constitutions direct, and
that more especially if they have any faults of character.

43. It is necessary to carry on what is now done by the
superior whom our Lord has given us â€” I speak to those
who shall come after him â€” from whom I have learned
much of what I have said by observing his visitations,
especially on this point ; he must not be more intimate
with one sister than with another, nor be alone with nor
write to any one, but, as a true father, show the same
affection for all ; for the day when in any monastery he
shall show a particular affection for a sister, though it be
like that of S. Jerome and S, Paula, he shall not escape
detraction any more than they did ; and he will wrong
not only that house, but every house of the order, for
Satan will at once publish it abroad that he may gain
something by it, and the world, because of our sins, is so
lost to shame in this matter that many inconveniences will
ensue, as we see at this time. The visitor on that account
is less respected, and that general affection, if he is what
he ought to be, which all should bear him always, and
which they bear him now, is lost, for the nuns will think
that he gives all his affection to one only ; and it is a
great advantage to be very much loved by them all. This
is not meant of that showing of affection which may be
occasionally necessary, but of an affection which is notorious
and excessive.

44. When the visitor enters the house â€” I mean the
monasteries â€” he must look to the observance of enclosure ; this he must always do, and carefully inspect the
whole house, as I said before : '. he must go through it,
having his companion always by his side, with the prioress
and some of the other nuns ; and he must not on any
account whatever, even if he be there early, remain for
dinner within the monastery, though the nuns might press
him to do so ; let him regard that for which he has come,
and then depart forthwith. If he has anything to say, he
had better say it at the grating ; for, though that may be
done in all honesty and simplicity, yet is it a preparing
the way for some one perhaps, at a future time, to whom
no such liberty ought to be given, and who may take
more. May it please our Lord never to suffer it, and
that all things tending to edification and everything else
be ever done as they are done now. Amen ! Amen !

45. The visitor must not allow any excess in the food
they provide him on the days he is making the visitation,
accepting nothing but that which is fitting ; and if he sees
anything wrong he must rebuke them severely for it,
because it is unbecoming the profession of the superiors,
which is poverty, and that of the nuns as well : there is
no good whatever in it, for they eat only what is sufficient
for them, and it does not minister that edification which
becometh nuns.

46. For the present nothing can be done, I believe,
because the superior we have, even if there be any excess,
does not observe whether what they give him is much or
little, good or bad, and I do not know that he could
observe it unless he were to give special heed to the
matter. He regards it as of the most serious import that
he v/ho makes the inquiry should be alone â€” without his
companion â€” because he will not have him know the
faults of the nuns, if faults there be : it is an admirable
plan to keep the follies of nuns from being known, and if
they do fall into any â€” at present, to God be the glory,
they will not do much harm, for the visitor regards them
with the eyes of a father, and as a father keeps it secret,
and, because he is standing in the place of God, God
reveals to him the degree of gravity of the faults. Any
other than such as he is will perhaps think that to be
serious which is but a trifle, and, as it does not concern him
personally, he will not care to be silent about it, and the
monastery loses its good name without cause. May our
Lord grant our superiors the grace always to consider
this, and always to act in the same way.

47. It is not right in the visitor to show that he has a
great affection for the prioress, or that he has a good
understanding with her, at least in the presence of the
community, for that will cow the nuns, and they will not
dare to tell him of her faults. He must also keep well
in mind that it is necessary they should feel that he will
make no excuses for her, but correct whatever there may
be in need of correction. But no discouragement can
reach the soul which has a zeal for God and for the order :
when such a soul is distressed at the sight of the order
falling away, and is waiting tor a superior who shall come
to its succour, and yet sees matters continue in the same
way, it turns towards God, and resolves to be silent for
the future â€” seeing how little good has been done by
speaking â€” even though everything should fall to ruin.
The poor nuns are listened to but once, when summoned
by the visitor ; and the prioresses have time enough to
make excuses for, and give explanations of, their shortcomings, and of lessening the number of them, and
perhaps of creating some suspicion that the nun who has
made the complaint was moved by passion ; for, though
they are not told who she was, they almost always find
her out, and the visitor cannot be a witness of what is
going on, and the explanations are given in such a way
as to make him think it impossible to reject them, and
thus everything remains as before, for if he could be an
eye-witness within the house tor many days he would
ascertain the truth : the prioresses never imagine that
they are not telling it, but such is our self-love that we
very rarely accept the blame or know ourselves.

48. This has often happened to me, and with prioresses
who were very great servants of God, in whom I had
such trust that it seemed to me impossible for things to
be otherwise than as they represented them. But when
I remained some days in the house I was amazed to see
everything so different from the account they gave me,
and that in a matter of some importance, I have been
told that the complaints were the effect of temper, and
almost half the community agreed in that, and yet it was
the prioress who did not know herself, as she afterwards
came to understand. I believe, myself, that Satan, not
having many opportunities of tempting the sisters, tempts
the prioress in some things to think differently from the
rest ; and it is a cause of thanksgiving to our Lord to see
the way they bear it all. Accordingly, I have made up
my mind never to trust any one before I have made
inquiries enough, that I may make her who is thus
deceived feel that she is deceived ; for if that be not
done what is wrong can hardly be set right.

49. All this does not take place in grave matters, but
out of them great evils may arise if we do not proceed
with caution. I am amazed when I consider the cunning
of Satan â€” how he makes every one think she is telling the
greatest truth in the world : that is why I said that the
prioress is not to be altogether trusted, nor any one of the
nuns either, but inquiries should be made of many, if the
matter be of importance, in order that a certain remedy
might be provided. May our Lord send us always a
visitor who is wise and holy, such an one His Majesty
will enlighten, so that he shall understand us and make
no mistakes, for so shall every monastery be governed in
the best way, and souls grow in perfection, to the honour
and glory of God.

I entreat you, my father, in return for the mortification
which the writing of this has been to me, to mortify
yourself by writing certain instructions for the visitors.
If in this anything has been done as it ought to have been
done, it may be put into better order, and will be of
service ; for I shall now begin the end of the Foundations/
and it may have a place there, for it will be very useful.
I am afraid, however, that there never will be another so
humble as he by whose commandment I write, who will
be willing to make use of it. However, it is God's will,
and I could do no less, for if these houses are visited in
the way usual in the order very little good will come of it,
and it may be that the harm will be greater than the
good. Inquiries still more minute must be made, of
which I have not spoken, because I do not understand it
all, and because now I cannot remember ; but the greatest
care will be necessary only at the beginning, for if the
nuns see that the visitation is to be thus exact there will
be no great trouble in the government of the house.
May you, my father, do what you can to carry into
execution these instructions, as you are doing at present
in your visitations ; for our Lord will supply the rest in
His compassion, and through the merits of the sisters,
seeing that their object throughout is to render Him true
service, and for that end to be instructed.

'' This paper is generally Inserted among the letters of the Saint, and
as she says that she is about to begin the ' end of the Foundations ' it
has been placed among those of March or April 1582, but it was more
probably written in August or September 1576. At that time there
remained indeed several chapters to be added to that work (see supra,
ch. xxvii. 21) but as the series of foundations had been interrupted by
the troubles which had overtaken the Reform Saint Teresa could not
foresee that at a later period more convents would be founded, necessitating the addition of other chapters with a happier conclusion to her book.

The Book Of The Foundations

The Carmelite Rule

RULE OF THE ORDER OF OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL

1. Election of prioress. â€” 2. Houses. â€” 3. Cells and refectory. â€” 4. Cell
of the prioress.- â€” 5. Prayer. â€” 6. The divine office. â€” 7. Possessions. â€”
8. Oratory. â€” 9. Chapter. â€” 10. Fasts. â€” 11. Flesh meat allowed at
times. â€” 12. Everything to be done for God.- â€” 13. Avoid idleness.
â€” 14. Silence. â€” 15. Humility. â€” 16. Reverence for superiors. â€” 17.
Discretion;

Innocent/ bishop, servant of the servants of God, to
His beloved children the prior and brethren,
hermits of blessed Mary of Mount Carmel,
health and the apostolic blessing.

Whatever is for the honour of the Creator of all things,
and for the profit of souls, is to be upheld by the might
of perpetual strength, especially that over which the
authority of the Apostolic See exerts its salutary providence. Inasmuch as we, at your earnest prayer, have
caused, by our beloved son Hugh, cardinal priest of Santa
Sabina, and our venerable brother William, bishop of
Tortosa, certain matters in your rule which were doubtful to be explained and corrected, and also certain austerities therein prescribed of our compassion to be mitigated,
as is more fully set forth in the letters on that occasion
issued : We, consenting to your pious desires, do by our
Apostolic authority confirm, and by the protection of
these letters maintain, the explanation, mitigation, and
correction aforesaid, the contents of which letters we have
caused to be inserted word for word in these present
letters, and they are as follows : â€”

Friar Hugh, by the Divine compassion cardinal priest
of Santa Sabina, and friar William, by the same compassion bishop of Tortosa, to our most dearly beloved in
Christ the prior-general and the definitors of the general
chapter of the order of the friars of blessed Mary of
Mount Carmel, health in the Health of all.

Two clerics, friars of your order, Reginald and Peter,
have on your behalf had recourse to the Apostolic See,
humbly begging our lord the Pope graciously to explain
and correct certain matters of your rule formerly delivered
unto you by Albert, of happy memory, patriarch of Jerusalem, and at the same time to mitigate certain austerities
therein prescribed : and our lord the Pope having heard
their devout supplication, and having commissioned us as
his delegates to make such explanation, correction, and
mitigation as we might judge to be for the good estate
of the order and the salvation of the friars : We command
you, in virtue of that authority wherewith we are clothed,
to receive devoutly and to observe carefully the rule
corrected, explained, and mitigated by us according to
our judgment, and to correct all your other rules by
this which we send you by the same friars in this
form : â€”

THE RULE OF THE NUNS SANCTIONED FOR THOSE OF THE
MONASTERY OF THE PICTURE AT ALCALA

Albert, by the grace of God patriarch of Jerusalem, to
our beloved children in Christ, Brocard and the
other brethren, hermits, who live under his
obedience by the well of Elias on Mount Carmel,
health in Jesus Christ, and the blessing of the
Holy Ghost.
The holy fathers have taught in many ways and by
divers methods how every one, in whatever order or
institute he may be, or whatever kind of religious life he
may have chosen, has to live and maintain the true
obedience of Jesus Christ, and how to serve Him faithfully with a pure heart and a good conscience ; but, considering that you ask us to give you a certain rule and
way of life, in accordance with your intentions, which you
are to keep and observe in all time to come â€”

OF THE THREE VOWS, AND THE ELECTION OF A PRIORESS

I. We decree and ordain, in the first place, that you
have one of yourselves as prioress, chosen for that office
by common consent, either with the goodwill of all or of
the greater number of you, or of the more discreet, unto
whom the others, every one of you, shall promise obedience,
and when you have made the promise you shall keep it
in word and deed, [observing chastity and poverty, also
under the same conditions].

2. [You may have sites and places in the deserts, or
wheresoever they may be given you, fitting and proper
for the observance of your rule].

3. [Each of you shall have her own cell in the place
wherein you shall have made up your minds to dwell,
separated and apart each from the other, as it shall have
been assigned you by the prioress and the community, or
by the greater part thereof ; but whatever may be given
you as alms for your support you shall take ordinarily in
the refectory, while some part of the Holy Writings are
read, and] none of the sisters may change the place and
cell assigned her, or make an exchange with another,
without leave from the prioress for the time being.

4. The cell of the mother prioress shall be near the
entrance into the monastery, in order that she may be
the first to receive those who come in, and that everything done in the house may be according to her order
and judgment.

5. The sisters shall be always in their cells, or near
them, meditating and occupying their thoughts day and
night in the law of God, and watching in prayer, unless
otherwise employed in just and reasonable duties, and the
recitation of the divine office.

6. Those who are able to say the office shall say it in
the form prescribed in the rules and ordinances of the
holy fathers, and according to the custom sanctioned by
the rule. Those who cannot say it shall say instead of
matins tho. paternoster twenty-five times, except on Sundays
and other holy days of obligation, when it must be
doubled â€” that is, they must say the paternoster fifty times ;
instead of lauds they shall say it seven times, and seven
times for every other hour, except vespers, when they
shall say it fifteen times.

OF OWNING NOTHING

7. No sister shall have anything of her own, but everything shall be in common ; and let every sister have what
she requires given her through the hands of the prioress
[or of her who takes her place], the age and necessities of
each sister being most carefully considered.

[But we readily allow you to have in common cattle
and poultry for your maintenance according to your
wants.]

8. In the midst of the cells shall be built an oratory or
chapel, in the best and most convenient form possible,
wherein you shall assemble every morning for prayer
when it can be conveniently done.

9. On Sundays, or on other days, whenever necessary,
you shall consult about the keeping of your order'* and
the salvation of souls : then also the faults and excesses
of the sisters, if any be discovered, shall be charitably
corrected.

10. You shall fast daily, Sundays excepted, from the
feast of the Exaltation of the Cross to the day of our
Lord's rising again, unless illness or weakness, or some
other good reasons, move you to break the fast, for
necessity has no law.

11. You shall eat no flesh unless it be for relief of
[sickness or] weakness, or when you are on a pilgrimage
or on a journey â€” for it is often necessary for you to beg ;
that you may not be a burden to your hosts, when you
are away from your own houses you may have meat soup
with green herbs therein, and in the same way, at sea,
when making a voyage, you may eat flesh. And as the
life of man upon earth is a continual temptation, and all
who will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution,7 because our adversary the devil, roaring as a lion,
goeth about seeking whom to devour, you must in all
carefulness strive to put on the armour of God, that you
may be able to withstand the deceits of the devil ; you
must gird your loins with the girdle of chastity ; ' you
must strengthen your hearts with holy thoughts, for it is
written, ' a holy thought will be thy safeguard ; ' " you
must put on the breastplate of justice," that with your
whole heart, and your whole soul, and your whole mind,
and your whole strength, you may love the Lord your
God and your neighbour as yourselves ; ' you must
always take the shield of the faith, with which you may
be able to quench all the fiery arrows of the hellish foe,'*
because it is impossible to please God without faith. '
You must also put on the helmet of salvation,' that you
may hope for salvation from our Saviour only, who has
saved His people, and delivered them from the prison-house of their sins.

12. Let the sword of the Holy Ghost, that is, the
word of God, dwell and abide for ever in your mouths
and hearts, and, whatever you may have to do, let it be
always come in the name and the power of the word of
God.

13. You shall always have some work to do, that the
devil may ever find you busy, and be unable to enter in
through your idleness to tempt you ; and herein you have
the blessed S. Paul both as instruction and example, by
whose mouth spoke Jesus Christ, and whom God set up
as the teacher and preacher of the nations in faith and
truth, whom if you follow you cannot go astray. ' We
were among you in toil and labour, working night and
day that we might be a trouble or a burden to none among
you â€” not that we had not authority and power for that
end, but that we might give you in your conversation an
example and pattern, so that you might follow in our way :
for when we were with you, and conversed among you,
we told you this and taught it that if there be any one that
will not work he may not eat ; for we hear and understand that there are some among you who are lazy and
wicked, without any occupation or employment ; now
these, and all those who thus live and act, we warn and
entreat, in Jesus Christ our Lord, to work in silence, and
eat their own bread : ' ' this is the good and holy road :
walk ye therein. The apostle recommends silence when
he bids us work in silence ; and to the same effect one of
the prophets has said, the 'adornment of justice is
silence,' ' and in another place, ' in silence and in hope
shall your strength be.' '

14. We, therefore, ordain that you keep silence [from
the end of compline to the end of prime on the following
day] : during the rest of the time, though the observance
of silence is not so strictly enjoined, still you must be
very careful and watchful, that you may avoid much
talking ; for, as it is written and experience shows, ' in
much talking there shall be no lack of sin,' and ' he
who is thoughtless in his speech shall suffer much evil,'
and, in another place, ' he who useth many words does it
to the ruin of his soul.'" And our Lord in the Gospel
saith, of every idle word that men shall speak, that they
shall give an account of it in the day of judgment
' make, therefore, every one of you, a balance for your
words, and a most strong bridle for your mouth, that you
may not make a slip with the tongue, and fall, and your
fall be incurable unto death : ' with the prophet, keep
your ways, that you may not sin with the tongue ; keep
a careful ward and watch over yourselves in silence, which
is the crown and adornment of justice, as well as its
safeguard.

15. And thou, brother Brocard, and whosoever shall be
chosen after thee into the office of prior, keep in mind
and observe that which our Lord says in the Gospel â€”
' Whosoever will be greater among you, let him be your
minister ; and he who will be first, let him be your
servant.'

16. And do you, also, the rest of the sisters, honour
the prioress in all humility, looking unto Christ â€” who has
given her to you to be your superior, and has set her over
you â€” rather than unto her ; seeing that Christ himself
said to superiors, ' he who hears you hears me, and he
who despiseth you despiseth me ; ' that you may never
be condemned for contempt, but rather by your obedience
merit the wages of the everlasting payment.

17. We have written briefly, ordaining and appointing
a certain order and way of life, which you are bound to
observe, and according to which you are bound to live.
But if any one shall do more than is enjoined in the rule,
our Lord when He comes will repay him ; but let such
an one use discretion, for that is the ruler of virtues.

Given at Lyons, in the year of our Lord 1248, in the
fifth year of the pontificate of Innocent IV, Pope,
on the first day of September.

This our deed of confirmation none may violate or
rashly transgress in any way whatever ; and if any one
shall dare to do so, let him know that he thereby incurs
the wrath of Almighty God, and of the blessed Apostles
Peter and Paul.

Given at Lyons, October i, in the fifth year of our
pontificate.

The Book Of The Foundations

The Constitutions

CONSTITUTIONS FOR THE SISTERS OF THE ORDER OF OUR LADY OF
MOUNT CARMEL OF THE PRIMITIVE RULE UNRELAXED, GIVEN
BY THE MOST REVEREND FATHER FRAY JUAN BAUTISTA RUBEO,
GENERAL OF THE SAID ORDER, IN THE YEAR 1568.

I. The divine office. â€” 2. Rising and chanting. â€” 3. Communion. â€” 4.
Vespers. â€” 5. Compline. â€” 6. Spiritual reading. â€” 7. Books. â€” 8.
Solitude. â€” 9. Maintenance of the sisters. â€” 10. All ownership forbidden. â€” 11. The habit. â€” 12. Furniture of the house. â€” 13. Enclosure and visitors. â€” 14. Visits. â€” 15. The attendant sister. â€” 16.
Kindred. â€” 17. Novices. â€” 18. Poverty. â€” 19. Lay sisters. â€” 20.
Service of the house. â€” 21. Special needs. â€” 22. The infirmary. â€”
23. Work done by the sisters. â€” 24. Alms received in the day. â€”
25. Meals. â€” 26. No food to be taken between meals. â€” 27. Recreation. â€” 28. Rest after recreation. â€” 29. Particular friendships.
â€” 30. Correction of faults; â€” 31. Gifts. â€” 32. Simplicity. â€” 33.
Penances. â€” 34. The monastery to be poorly built. â€” 35. The sick
and the dead. â€” 36. Of the prioress. â€” 37. The sub-prioress and the
keepers of the keys. â€” 38. The sacristan. â€” 39. The treasurer and
the portresses. â€” 40. Zelators. â€” 41. Mistress of novices. â€” 42. Manifestation of the interior state. â€” 43. The prioress may be mistress
of novices. â€” 44. Hours of prayer, â€” 45. Alms. â€” 46, Chapter of
faults. â€” 47. Accusation of others. â€” 48. Correction of faults. â€” 49.
Of slight faults. â€” i;o. Of graver faults. â€” 51. Of grievous faults, â€”
2. Of the more grievous faults. â€” 53. Modes of correction. â€” 54.
Rebellion. â€” 55. The constitutions. â€” 56. Discipline:

THE ORDER TO BE OBSERVED IN SPIRITUALS

I, Let matins be said after nine o'clock, and not
before, nor so long after as not to leave when they shall
have been said a quarter of an hour for the examen of
conscience touching the spending of the day. A signal
shall be given for the examen, and one of the sisters,
appointed by the mother prioress, shall read in Spanish
the mystery on which the meditation is to be made the
next day. The time to be spent herein shall be such
that precisely at eleven o'clock a bell shall be rung, and
the nuns shall withdraw for the night's rest. All the
nuns must be together in choir during the time of the
examen and prayer, and once the office begun no sister
may go out of the choir without leave.

2. In summer they are to rise at five, and continue in
prayer till six ; in winter at six, and continue in prayer
till seven. When prayer is over the office is to be said
as far as None, unless it be a holy day, or the festival of
a saint to whom the sisters have a special devotion ; then
they will stop at Terce, which they will sing before the
mass. On Sundays and holy days mass, vespers, and
matins are to be sung ; on the holy days of Easter, or
other solemn feasts, lauds may be sung, especially on the
feast of the glorious S. Albert. The singing must never
be in harmony, but in unison, the voices even ; ordinarily
the office is to be said, so also the mass, for our Lord will
be pleased to let us have a little time to earn what is
necessary for us. Let every one be careful never to be
absent from choir for light causes : when the office has
been said let them go to their duties in the house. Mass
is to be said in summer at eight, in winter at nine. They
who go to communion may remain awhile in the choir.

3. The days of communion are all Sundays, the feasts
of our Lady and of our Lord, of S, Albert and of S.
Joseph, and whatever other days the confessor may think
meet, according to the devotion and spiritual state of each
sister, with the leave of the mother prioress. Communion
is to be given also on the feast-day of the house. Shortly
betore dinner signal shall be made for the examen of
conscience touching what they have been doing up to that
time, and the gravest fault they may discover let them
try to correct, and say our paternoster to obtain grace from
God for that end. Wherever each one may be at the
time, let her kneel down and make her examen briefly.

4. At two o'clock vespers are to be said, unless it be
Lent, when they are to be said at eleven : at the end of
vespers, when said at two o'clock, let there be spiritual
reading for an hour. In Lent the hour of spiritual reading is two o'clock, and it is understood that the bell rings
for vespers at two. The vespers being those of a feast,
the hour of spiritual reading must be after compline.

5. Compline in summer is to be said at six o'clock
in winter at five. At eight, both in summer and winter,
let the signal be given for silence, which must be kept
strictly till after prime of the following day : at all other
times no sister may speak to another without leave, except
those who are in office, and then only when necessary.
The prioress grants leave to speak when she thinks it will
serve to quicken more and more the love of the Bridegroom. If a sister, being in trouble or temptation, speaks
to another in order to receive consolation from her, she
may do so: the prohibition does not extend to a word, a
question, or an answer, for so much may be done without
leave.

6. The signal for prayer is to be given an hour before
matins : during this hour of prayer they may read a
spiritual book, beside the other hour so to be spent after
vespers : if they find they have the spiritual strength to
spend that hour in prayer, let them do so if they see it
contributes the more to recollection.

7. Let the mother prioress see that they have good
books 4 â€” the Carthusian, Flos Sanctorum, Contempus Mundi
the Oratory of Religious, Fray Luis of Granada, or
Fray Peter of Alcantara ; for this nourishment is in
part as necessary for the soul as food is tor the body.
Every sister must remain, the whole time she is not
present with the community, or discharging the duties of
her office, either in her cell or in the hermitage which the
prioress shall have assigned her as the place of her retreat,
doing some work there, except on the holy days ; and in
the loneliness of this retreat, fulfilling that which the rule
enjoins, every sister shall be alone.

8. No sister may go into the cell of another without
the leave of the prioress.

OF TEMPORALS

9. They must always live on alms, having no revenues
whatever ; and so long as they can bear it there must be
no begging ; but they may provide for themselves by
the work of their hands, as S. Paul did ; for our Lord
will furnish them with what is necessary, if they do not
ask for more, and are satisfied without comforts ; He
will not fail them, and they will be able to support life ;
if they labour with all their might to please our Lord
His Majesty will take care that they shall want nothing.
They will earn their bread, not by any fine work but by
spinning â€” not by anything that requires great skill, lest it
should occupy their thoughts and withdraw them from
our Lord ; they must not work in gold or silver, and
they must not bargain about the price, but accept at once
what may be offered, and if they find that work unprofitable let them take up some other work.

10. The sisters may not have anything as their own in
any way whatever, nor is that ever to be allowed them,
either for their food or their clothing ; they may not have
a box or dish or drawer or cupboard, unless they have
some office in the community : nothing is to be the
property of any one separately, and everything must be
in common. This is of grave importance, for it is by
little things the devil is enabled to enter and destroy
the perfection of poverty : the prioress therefore must
be very careful, should a sister be attached to anything,
whether it be a book or cell or anything else, to take it
away from her.

11 . They must keep a fast from the feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, in September, till Easter Day, Sundays
excepted. They are never to eat meat except in cases of
necessity, according to the rule.'' The habit is to be of
frieze or some coarse cloth, dark in colour, without any
ornament ; and as little stuff as possible is to be used in
it, with sleeves, not large, nor wider at the wrists than
at the shoulder ; it must be without plaits, round, not
longer behind than in front, and reaching to the feet.
The scapular is to be made of the same stuff, but shorter
than the habit by four inches ; the mantle to be worn in
choir is to be of the same material, white in colour, of the
same length with the scapular, and as little stuff to be
used in it as possible, due regard being had to what is
necessary.

12. The coifs must be of coarse linen, not plaited ; the
tunics of serge, the sheets also ; the sandals of hemp,
and for decency stockings, but of frieze or hempen cloth ;
the pillows must be of serge, unless necessity requires it
to be otherwise, when they may be made of coarse linen ;
there must be no feather beds, but only straw mattresses.

They who are neither strong nor healthy have tried it,
and these things can be dispensed with. There are to be
no curtains of any kind except in cases of necessity, and
then only a matting of rushes or a door-screen, which may
be either a blanket of sackcloth or any thing of that kind,
but it must be poor. Each nun is to have her own separate
cell : there are to be no carpets except in the church, nor
cushions to sit upon. All this belongs to the order, and
must be observed : it is spoken of thus distinctly because
when laxness begins we forget what the order and our
obligations demand. There shall be nothing in colours,
either in their dress or on their bed, even if only so
trifling a thing as a bandage. They are never to use
sheepskins, and if any one be unwell she may have
a gown of frieze. They must wear their hair close cut,
that they may waste no time in dressing it : they must
have nothing about them of tine workmanship, but everything must show a disregard of self

OF ENCLOSURE

13. No nun may appear unveiled before anyone, except
a father or mother or brother or sister, unless it be for
some purpose, and then only before persons who edify us
rather, and help us in our practices of prayer, for spiritual
consolation, not for recreation. A third person must be
always present, except when matters relating to the soul
are discussed. The key of the grating and of the enclosure
door must be kept by the prioress, and whenever the
physician or the surgeon, or any other person necessary
for the house, or the confessor, comes in, two nuns must
always go forward before him ; and when a sick sister makes
her confession the nun in attendance must stand out of
the way, yet not out of sight, but she must not speak to
the confessor herself unless it be in answer to a question
put to her by him. The novices, no less than the
professed, may receive visitors, that it may be known if
they are at all discontented â€” for we do not aim at
keeping them except with their full consent â€” and that
they may have an opportunity of making known their
discontent if they are not perfectly willing to remain,

14. They are to have nothing to say about matters
of this world, and they are not to converse about them,
unless it be on occasions when they can help those who
come to them to speak about them, and establish them
in the way of truth, or console them in any of their
troubles. If those who visit them aim at no good herein,
let them put an end to the conversation at once, as they
are directed to do : it being of great importance that
they who visit us should derive some good from their
visit, without any waste of time, and that we too should
have some profit thereby.

15. The nun in waiting must see that this is observed,
for she is bound to tell the prioress if it is not, and
whenever she does not tell she must undergo the same
penance which she has to undergo who has transgressed.
Let her have two warnings, and for the third offence
let her remain for nine days in the prison, and on the
third day submit to the discipline in the refectory, for it
is a matter of great concern in religion.

16. Let them avoid all converse with their kindred as
much as they can, tor their interests will make a great
impression on them, and thereby make it difficult for
them to refrain from talking about worldly affairs. Let
them be very careful in conversing with those who are in
the world, though they be their kindred : if they do, it
must be very rarely, and the conversation must be soon
ended.

OF THE RECEIVING OF NOVICES

17, Great care must be taken that they whom they
receive be persons who give themselves to prayer, and
aim at all perfection and contempt of the world ; for if
they are not detached from the world when they come
they will hardly bear with the observances of the house,
and it is better to look to this beforehand than to send
them away afterwards. They should be healthy, sensible,
able to recite the office, and to assist in choir : let no one
be allowed to make her profession of whom, during the
year of her novitiate, it shall not have been ascertained that
she has the temper and the other gifts necessary for the
observances of the order : if in any one of these she be
found wanting let her not be suffered to make her
profession, unless indeed she be a great servant of our
Lord and useful in the house, and one of whom we might
be assured that she will occasion no disturbance in it, and
that it would please our Lord if we yielded to her holy
desires. If one in whom these desires are not strong
come in, yet whom we feel that our Lord is calling to this
state, but who is without the means of giving anything to
the house in the way of alms, such an one must not on
that account be refused, as we have never done to this
day ; but if she has anything to give, and wishes to give
it, and if afterwards for some reason or other it is not
given, there must be no lawsuit to obtain it, nor must she
on that account be refused profession.

18, Great care must be taken that interest has no sway
in the matter, lest avarice creep in by degrees, and thereby
the alms to be received be more thought of than the
goodness and the fitness of the novice : this must on no
account be done, for it would be a great evil : let them
always keep the poverty they profess before their eyes
and consider that it is not alms that really uphold the
monastery, but rather faith and the practice of perfection :
trust in God alone. Let this constitution be well considered, and observed as is fitting, and read to the sisters.
When any one is to be accepted it must be with the
consent of the greater number in the house ; so also when
any one is to make her profession.

19. The lay sisters to be received must be strong,
and such as are known to be willing to serve our Lord.
Let them remain for a year without wearing the habit,
that it may be seen whether they are such as ought to be
received, and that they themselves may see whether they
can bear the work. They are not to wear a veil over their
faces, nor are they to have the black veil, until at the end
of two years they shall have been professed, unless their
exemplary life should have justified an abbreviation. Let
them be treated with all charity and sisterly affection, and
furnished with food and raiment like the others.

THE HUMBLE OFFICES

20. The first on the list of those who are to sweep the
house is to be the mother prioress, that in all things she
may give a good example. Let much be made of those
who have the charge of the wardrobe and the storeroom.
Let them furnish the sisters in all charity with what is
required for their subsistence, and with everything else.
No more must be done according to the rule for the
prioress and the older nuns than for any of the others, but
it must be as the necessities and the age of each demand,
and necessity should be regarded rather than age, for very
often the older the nun the fewer the wants : great
attention should be paid to this in general, because it is
necessary for many reasons. Let no sister ever speak of
her food, whether she has little or much, whether it be
well or ill dressed. Let the prioress or the sister who is
over the storeroom take care that they are content with
whatever our Lord may supply them, and let that
be well prepared, so that they may be satisfied with
what He has given them, seeing that they have
nothing; else.

21. The sisters are bound to make their wants known
to the mother prioress, the novices to their mistress,
whether of food or of raiment ; and if they require anything out of the way, however great their want may be,
they must in the first place lay it before our Lord, because
nature very often asks for more than we have need of, and
Satan from time to time helps it, to make us afraid of
penance and fasting.

OF THE SICK SISTERS

22. Let the sick sisters be tended with affection, delicacy, and tenderness consistently with our poverty, and
let them give thanks to our Lord when they are well
provided for ; and if they want anything to lighten their
pain which the wealthy have in sickness they must not
be less cheerful on this account, for they came among us
resolved to bear it, for to be poor is to be in want, perhaps
in the greatest necessity. The mother prioress must take
great care of this, for the nuns who are well must give up
what is necessary for themselves before certain delicacies
should be withheld from the sick. The sick are to be
visited by the sisters and consoled ; an infirmarian is to be
placed over them, possessed of the strength and the
charity requisite for the discharge of her duty ; and the
sick sisters must then strive to show the perfection they
have gained when in health, by patience and the asking
for the fewest things possible ; when the sickness is not
great let them be obedient to the infirmarian, that she
might profit, and that they may merit, by the illness, and
edify the sisters. Let them have the use of linen and be
treated with all charity.

23. No task-work must be laid on the sisters, and each
should contrive to work, that all may eat. Consider carefully the prescription in the rule, that she who would eat
must work, as S. Paul did. If any one of her own will
undertake a certain work, and to finish it daily, she may
do so, but if the work be not finished no penance is to be
given for the failure.

24. Every day, after supper or collation, when the
sisters are all together, the nun of the turn shall declare
what alms had been received during the day, with the
names of the givers, that the sisters may be careful to remember them in their prayers unto God.

25. As for dinner we cannot be regular, because that
must be as our Lord gives. When we have anything to
eat the meal shall be in winter at eleven, and in summer
the signal for it shall be given at ten. Before sitting down
to eat, if our Lord inspires a sister to do an act of mortification, let her ask leave, and let not this good practice
be lost, out of which some profit is derived ; but it must
be quickly done, so that it shall not be in the way of the
reading.

26. No sister may eat or drink without leave except at
dinner or supper.

27. When they come out from dinner the mother
prioress may dispense with silence, that they may talk all
together of anything they like ; only it must be about
things a good religious may speak of, and let each of them
have her distaff and her work. Any games are forbidden,
for our Lord will enable some of the sisters to amuse the
others. Let them be all together at recreation, for that is
time well spent.

28. Let them strive not to be wearisome one to another,
but their words and their merry sayings must be in discretion. When the hour of recreation is over they may
sleep for another hour in summer, and she who does not
sleep must keep silence. After compline and collation, in
summer and winter, as it is said before, the mother may
dispense with silence, and the sisters may speak all together, each, as before, having her own work ; and the
length of the recreation shall be at the discretion of the
mother prioress.

29. No sister may embrace another or touch her face
or her hands. There must be no particular friendships,
but all must address themselves to all in general as Jesus
Christ commanded His Apostles ; it will be easy tor
them to do so, because they are so few. Let them
earnestly regard their Bridegroom, who for us gave His
life. To love one another all alike is a matter of great
importance.

30. A sister may not correct another for faults she may
see her commit ; if the faults be grave let her remind her
of them charitably when they are alone, and if no amendment follow after three admonitions let her speak to the
mother prioress. There are correctors of faults who must
look to this : let the others be easy, and bear with what
they see ; let them look to their own faults, and meddle
not with those which are committed in the discharge of
the duties of the house, unless it be something grave,
which, as we have just said, they are under obligations to
observe. Let them be very careful never to defend themselves when found fault with, unless it be on occasions on
which it is necessary, for they will make great progress
thereby. The correctors of faults must be very careful to
mark what is done amiss, and, by order of the prioress,
at times give the correction in public, though it be by the
younger to the elder nuns, in order to try their humility ;
and therefore let no sister make answer, though she be
blameless.

31. No sister may give or receive anything, even from
father or mother without leave of the prioress, to whom
must be taken whatever is received as alms.

32. Neither the prioress nor any of the sisters may
be ever addressed as ' madam.'

33. The punishment for faults and shortcomings
herein â€” for everything is according to the rule â€” shall
be the penances laid down at the end of these constitutions for the lighter and more grievous faults ; and the
mother prioress may dispense, according as she shall
judge it to be right to do so, prudently and charitably,
and she may not bind them to perform the penance
under pain of sin, unless it be in a grave matter.

34. There shall be no adornment of the house, but
only of the church, nor shall there be anything costly
about it. It shall be made of coarse material, small in
size with low rooms â€” a house to satisfy wants, without
anything unnecessary : let it be as strong as it can be
made, surrounded by a high wall, and let it have a
field wherein to make hermitages into which the nuns
may withdraw for prayer, as our holy fathers used to do.

OF THE SICK AND THE DEPARTED

35. The Sacraments must be administered according
to the ritual for the dead ; for the funeral rites and the
burial vespers are to be said with a missa cantata and if
possible let the masses of St. Gregory be said '" and if
that cannot be let the whole convent say the office of
the dead. This for the nuns of the house. For the
other nuns either the office of the dead or a missa cantata.
This for the nuns of the primitive rule. For the nuns
of the mitigation, the office of the dead once."

OF THE SEVERAL DUTIES OF EACH NUN

36. The duty of the mother prioress is, to be very
careful that the rule and constitutions be in all things
kept, and to watch diligently over the modesty and
enclosure of the house ; to see that all the nuns do their
duty, and also to provide for their wants, both spiritually
and temporally ; to be loved with the love of a mother,
in order to be obeyed. The prioress is to appoint a
portress and a sacristan, nuns whom she can trust, and
whom she may remove whenever she pleases, lest it
should give occasion for making offices perpetual. To
the other offices in the house the prioress appoints, but
not to that of sub-prioress, who, with the keepers of the
keys, is to be elected by the nuns. These must be able
to write and to keep accounts, at least two of them.

37. The mother sub-prioress is to have the care of the
choir for her charge, to see that the singing and reciting
of the divine office is performed with the proper pauses.
This must be well looked to. In the absence of the
prioress she will take her place, be constantly with the
community, correct the faults made in choir and refectory,
when the prioress is not present. The keepers of the
keys are to render their accounts month by month to the
treasurer in the presence of the prioress, who must take
their opinion in grave matters, and have a chest with
three keys for the deeds and the funds of the convent
one of which the prioress is to hold, and the other two
the two senior keepers of the keys.

38. The duty of the sacristan is to take care of everything belonging to the church, and to see that all
things therein for the service of our Lord are reverently
and cleanly kept : she is to see that the nuns go orderly
to confession, and that they do not fail to do so, unless
they have leave, under pain of grave fault â€” unless it be
that they are going to confession to some one appointed
for the purpose.

39. The duty of the treasurer and of the first portress,
who are one and the same, is to buy for the house whatever may be necessary for it, if our Lord from time to time
supplies the means ; to speak gently to edification at the
turn, and charitably regard the necessities of the sisters ;
to keep an account in writing of the expenditure and
receipts ; when buying anything for the house, not to
bargain, but on being twice told the price to take it or
leave it. She is to let no sister go without leave to the
grating ; to call the second portress to the turn when she
herself has to go to the parlour ; never to tell anyone
what goes on there, except the prioress : not to give
letters to anybody but to her, who is to read them first ;
never to give a message to anybody, nor to send one out,
without first telling the prioress of it, under pain of
grave fault.

40. The correctors of faults â€” for theirs is an important
office â€” must be careful to observe the faults committed,
and to tell the prioress of them, as before.

41. The mistress of novices must be a nun of great
prudence, prayer, and spirituality : she must be careful
to read the constitutions to the novices, and teach them
all they have to do in the observances of the house, as
well as in their mortifications ; and greater stress must
be laid on what is inward than on what is outward. She
must have from them every day an account of their
progress in prayer, and of their meditation on the
mystery assigned them, and of the profit they have
derived therefrom ; she must teach them how to make
use of that profit, and how to demean themselves in
times of dryness, and how to go onwards in subduing
their own will, even if only in trifles. Let her who is
mistress of novices see that she neglects nothing, for her
work is to bring up souls in whom our Lord may dwell.
Let her treat them tenderly and lovingly, never surprised
at their shortcomings, for they must advance step by
step, and let her mortify every one of them, according
to her judgment of what the spiritual state of each can
bear : let her think more of failure in goodness than of
severity in penance. Let the prioress give orders
that one of the sisters help her in teaching them to
read.

42. Let all the sisters, once in each month, give the
prioress an account of their progress in the way of prayer
â€” how our Lord is leading them on â€” for if they are not
on the right road His Majesty will give her light to
guide them : the doing of which is an act of humility
and a mortification. To produce much fruit, it must be
done willingly by her subjects.

43. When the prioress shall see that there is no nun
qualified to be mistress of novices she must be mistress
herself, and undertake that duty, which is so important
and bid one of her sisters help her.

44. When any sister having duties to fulfil shall be
hindered from making her prayer during the hour set
apart tor it let her take another hour during which she
shall be less occupied ; that is to say, an hour during
which, or during the greater part of which, she may be
able to give the time to prayer.

45. Any alms our Lord may give us in money shall
be always placed forthwith in the chest of three keys,
unless it be a small sum, which the nun who has received
it may give to one of the keepers of the keys, and every
night before the signal for silence is given she must give
a minute account to the prioress, or to the keeper of the
keys already mentioned ; and the account given, let the
whole of the alms be entered in one sum in the book
kept for that end in the convent, that it may be accounted
for to the visitor every year.

OF FAULTS

46. The chapter of faults is to be held, according to
the Rule, once in each week ; the faults of the sisters are
to be corrected with charity. The sisters must always
come to the chapter fasting, and then, when the signal
is given and the nuns are all assembled in chapter, she
whose office is that of reader shall, on a sign from the
prioress or the president, read the constitutions and the
rule. The reader shall say Jube Domine benedicere, etc.
she who holds the chapter shall answer, Regularibus
disciplinis nos instituere digneris Magister uelestis ; and all
the nuns. Amen. Then let the mother prioress, if it
seem good to her to say a few words either as to the
reading or on the correction of the sisters, say before
beginning Benedicite and the sisters Dominus, prostrating
themselves, and so remaining till bidden to rise. Then
when they have risen, let them return to their places ;
the novices and lay sisters are to begin, and then the
elder sisters, who are to come two and two into the
middle of the chapter-room, and tell their open faults
and shortcomings to the president ; first of all, the novices
and lay sisters should be dismissed, with those who have
neither voice nor seat in the chapter,

47. The sisters may not speak in chapter except to tell
their own or a sister's faults simply, or in answer to a
question from the president. Let her who accuses
another take care she does not speak from mere suspicion.
If any one should do so she shall undergo the punishment due to the fault of which she has accused her
sister ; so also shall it be done to her who shall accuse
another of a fault for which she has already made
satisfaction. Lest evil habits or shortcomings should be
kept secret, a sister may tell the mother prioress or the
visitor what she has seen or heard. She who shall
accuse another sister falsely shall be punished in the same
way, and be obliged further to make restitution of her
good name to the utmost of her power. The sister
accused may not answer unless ordered to do so, and
then she must answer humbly Benedicte ; if she betrays
any Impatience in her answer, then let her have a heavier
penance, according to the discretion of the president,
when she shall have recovered her temper.

48. The sisters must be careful not to make known or
reveal, in any way whatever, the deliberations or the
secrets of the chapter. No nun may ever make known,
by way of murmuring, any corrections or decisions made
by the mother in chapter, for thereby disagreements
ensue, the peace of the convent is destroyed, and the
duties of the elders invaded. Let the mother prioress or
the president, with the zeal of charity and the love
of justice, and without any dissembling, correct the
faults lawfully, and those which shall be clearly discovered
or confessed, according to what shall be here laid down.
The mother prioress may soften or shorten the penance
due to a fault â€” at least the first, or the second, or the
third time committed, if not done maliciously, but if she
finds any sister transgressing obstinately or through an
evil habit, she must make the appointed penances heavier,
and neither forgive nor lessen them without authority
from the visitor. Let the nuns who habitually commit
the slight faults undergo the penance of the greater faults,
and likewise for other faults let the appointed penances
be made heavier if'' they are committed habitually.

When the faults have been heard and corrected let
them say the Psalm Deus misereature according to the
ritual, and, the chapter ended, let the president say. Sit
nomen Domini henedictum and the sisters answer, Ex hoc
nunc et usque in speculum.

OF SLIGHT FAULTS

49. 1. A slight fault is committed if a sister, on the signal
being given, delays to prepare herself with due
speed and haste to come to the choir, orderly and
composedly, when she ought to do so.

2. If any sister enters the choir after the office is
begun, or reads or chants badly, or makes a
mistake, and does not at once make an act of
humility before all.

3. If any sister through negligence is without her
breviary, or the book out of which she is to
recite.

4. If any sister shall not be ready with the lesson
assigned to her to read at the proper time.

5. If any sister in choir makes another laugh.

6. If any sister makes light of and does not duly
observe the prostrations, the bowings, or other
ceremonies.

7. If any sister causes any disturbance or noise in
choir, or in the dormitory or the cell.

8. If any sister shall come late into the chapter or
the refectory, or to her work.

9. If any sister shall be guilty of, or listen to, any
idle conversation, or make a disorderly noise.

10. If any sister shall handle carelessly the books or
clothing, or anything belonging to the monastery,
or shall break or lose anything used in the
service of the house.

11. If any sister shall eat or drink without leave from
her who has authority to give it.

12. Let the sisters accused of these faults, or who
accuse themselves of anything of the kind, have
for their penance given them to say a prayer or
prayers according to the nature of their fault, or
some act of humility, or silence for a specified
time for having broken the silence of the order,
or abstinence from some kind of food at some
meal of the community.

50. I. It is a graver fault if a sister shall not have
entered the choir when the first Psalm is over,
and whenever they come in late they must
prostrate themselves, and so remain till the
mother prioress bids them rise.

2. If any sister presumes to chant or read in any other
than the usual way.

3. If anyone, not attending to the divine office with
downcast eyes, shall betray the levity of her
spirit.

4. If any one irreverently handles the ornaments of
the altar.

5. If any one does not come to the chapter, to her
work, or to the sermon, or shall be absent during
the common meal.

6. If any one knowingly neglects a general order.

7. If any one is found careless in the office assigned
her.

8. If any one speaks in chapter without leave.

9. If any one, being accused, makes a noise during
her accusation.

10. If any one out of revenge presumes to accuse
another by whom she herself has been accused
the same day.

11. If any one behaves herself disorderly In gait or
gesture.

12. If any one swears or talks disorderly, and, what is
more serious, if she is in the habit of doing so.

13. If a sister is quarrelsome, or says anything by
which her sisters may be offended.

14. If any one on being asked, refuses to forgive
another who has offended her.

15. If any one in the offices enters the monastery with
out leave : of these and the like faults let the
correction be made in chapter, one discipline to
be ministered by the president or by her whom
she may order : she who accused the guilty one
is not to minister it, nor may a young nun
minister it to the elders.

OF GRIEVOUS FAULTS

51. I. It is a grievous fault if a sister disputes with
another in an unseemly way.

2. If any one is found repeating or uttering maledictions, or using disorderly language, unbecoming
a religious, or angry with any one.

3. If any one forswears herself, or upbraids a sister
with any fault previously committed for which
she has made satisfaction, or with any natural
defects or others of her forefathers.

4. If any one defends her own or another's fault.

5. If any one is found to have deliberately told an
untruth falsely.

6. If any one is in the habit of not observing silence.

7. If any one is in the habit of telling what takes
place in the world, at her work or anywhere else.

8. If any one, without cause and without leave,
breaks the fasts of the order, especially those
appointed by the Church.

9. If anyone exchanges cell or habit with another,

10. If any one, during the hours of sleep, or at any
other time, enters the cell of another without
leave or without pressing necessity.

11. If any one is seen, without special leave from
the prioress, at the turn or in the parlour when
strangers are by.

12. If a sister shall in anger threaten another sister,
or shall raise her hand, or anything else, to
strike her, let the penalty of the grievous fault
be doubled for her. Those who ask forgiveness
for faults of this kind, or who are not accused,
shall receive in the chapter a double correction,
flst two days on bread and water, and take their
meal on one day below all the tables in the sight
of the whole community, without a table or the
furniture thereof; but those who have been
accused'' shall have one correction in addition
and one more day of fasting on bread and water.

OF THE MORE GRIEVOUS FAULTS

52. 1. A more grievous fault is, if any one shall dare to
dispute in an unmannerly way, or to speak uncivilly to the mother prioress or the president.
That is, those who take the first opportunity of acknowledging and
asking forgiveness for their fault are punished less severely than those who
wait until they have been publicly accused by another.

2. If any one maliciously strikes her sister, such an
one, in the very act, lies under sentence of
excommunication, and must be separated from
the others.

3. If any one is found sowing discord or misunderstandings between the sisters, or in the habit to
slandering or evil-speaking in secret.

4. If any one presumes to speak to strangers without
leave from the mother prioress, or without a
companion as witness who distinctly hears what
is said.

53. If the nuns accused of these or the like faults be
found guilty, let them prostrate themselves at once,
asking forgiveness, and laying bare their shoulders to
receive the sentence due to their deservings ; let the
discipline be given them according to the discretion of the
mother prioress, and then, when bidden to rise, let them
withdraw to the cell assigned them by the mother prioress ;
none of the sisters may go near them, or speak to them,
or send them anything, that they may see that they are
severed from the community, and deprived of the society
of the angels. So long as they are in penitence they may
not go to communion, nor be appointed to any office, nor
be entrusted with any duty, nor bidden to do anything
whatsoever : yea, rather they must be deprived of any
office they may hold, and in chapter they may neither
vote nor sit, unless it be to add to their own penance.
They must be the last of all the nuns until they have
made full amends. In the refectory they may not sit
with the rest, but in the middle of the refectory let them
sit, in their mantles ; and let them have bread and water,
unless out of compassion the mother prioress order anything else to be given them. Let the mother prioress
deal tenderly with them, and send a sister, if she sees that
they humble themselves from their heart, to console them,
and to help them in their good resolutions. Nuns thus
sorrowing let the whole community in the same way help
and be kind to, and let the mother prioress make no
objection to their being thus compassioned, sooner or
later, more or less, according to the nature of the offence
and the necessities of the case.

54. If any sister shall openly rebel against the mother
prioress or her superiors, or imagine anything against them
which is neither becoming nor lawful, let her do penance
over and above that already defined for forty days, be
deprived of her vote and seat in chapter, and of any office
she may hold ; and let her be punished in the same way
if she have done this at the instigation of another, or in
virtue of a wicked agreement.

55. Then let them keep the constitutions continually
in mind, and that will enable them, by the grace of our
Lord, to advance greatly in perfection : let them diligently
read them from time to time, and for that end there must
be many copies of them in the community, so that every
sister may be able, if she wishes it, to take one with her
into her cell.

56. As to the discipline, the ritual orders it to be taken
when the ferial office is said, and in Lent and in Advent
every day on which the ferial office is said. During the
rest of the year, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays
if on those days the ferial office is said ; but it is to be
taken every Friday throughout the year for the increase
of the faith, for those who have done us good, for the
souls in purgatory, tor captives, and for those who are in
mortal sin, one Miserere met with the prayers for the Church
and the other intentions mentioned ; for those taken in
choir after matins twigs are to be used as the ritual
prescribes ; let no one exceed these rules or do any
penance whatever without leave : each sister shall take
the discipline by herself. Let no one exceed regulations
or do any penance whatever without leave.

The Book Of The Foundations

Appendix I

PATENT FOR THE FOUNDATION OF TWO CONVENTS OF DISCALCED
FRIARS

We, friar John-Baptist Rubeo, prior-general and humble
servant of all the friars and nuns of the Holy Order
of our Lady of Mount Carmel, the Mother of God,
wish to all who shall read these our letters patent
the sweet inspirations of the Holy Ghost.
We declare, as in truth we may, that the zeal for the
honour of God and the progress of the friars and nuns of
this ancient Order, so dear to the glorious Queen of
heaven, unceasingly devoureth us ; that we ever feel
the urgings of the spurs of spiritual solicitude ; that we
grievously suffer when we fail to behold an abundant
harvest in that vineyard planted [by Her] and watered
with the tears of Her Divine Son, with the water and
blood flowing from the side, even with the Blood of His
whole body, and with the bitterness and anguish [of His
love]. Our desire is that all the members of this Order
were like mirrors, like shining lamps, glowing torches and
brilliant stars enlightening and guiding the wanderers in
this dark world ; to which end their prayers should be an
intimate conversation with God, their meditations should
lead to union with Him, and their mind, albeit living in
the flesh, should dwell in heaven, serving the body only
through necessity, giving it strength for the accomplishment of a multitude of good works, unfeignedly and free
from hypocrisy, never seeking its own advantage with
respect to earthly goods or the commodities of life, but
[that they should walk] in spirit and in truth, with the
prudence of serpents and the simplicity of doves ; that
they should be free from everything that might deprive
their soul of the candour and purity of an ardent love of
God, forgetful of Self, but raised above themselves by
raptures both ineffable and indescribable for being above
the ordinary way. Sometimes these pass swiftly, at other
times they seem to encompass the soul, or again they
invest, as it were, one small point of the soul ; now [the
soul] seems to take flight, to ascend and to descend,
leaving the senses transformed and more exalted than
they generally are in this life ; the eyes are filled with
tears, and the heart with a sweet dew producive of
abundant fruit

Such being our desire we feel bound to reply favourably to certain requests submitted to us to the effect that
we should grant permission for the foundation of some
convents of triars of our Order where mass may be celebrated, the Divine office chanted or sung, where at convenient hours prayers and meditations may be held as
well as other spiritual exercises performed so as to be in
name and in reality houses and convents of Contemplative
Carmelites, and where also, when occasion offers itself,
help should be given to outsiders, in conformity with our
ancient constitutions and such other ordinances as we
shall make ; under obedience to the Provincial present
and to come.

Therefore, moved by a holy zeal, by the authority of
our office of General, in pursuance of these present letters
patent, we grant faculty and power to the Reverend
Fathers Master Alonso Goncalez, provincial of our Order
in Castille, and Master Angel us de Salazar, prior of our
convent of Avila, to receive in our name two convents
with churches of our profession, under our obedience and
of our habit, according to the form which shall be set
forth and declared in our acts. In which convents they
shall establish priors and friars determined to live under
complete Reform, and to advance in the perfection of
Religious life in all humility. And that these Religious
shall at all times be subject to the province of Castille,
and it at any time any of these friars, under pretext of
greater perfection, should attempt to withdraw from
subjection to the province through the favour of Princes
and on the strength of Briefs and other concessions of
Rome, We denounce and declare them to be men
moved and tempted by an evil spirit, the authors of
factions, of quarrels, contentions, ambitions, to the deceit
and perdition of their souls, and We, as the spiritual
father of this Order (however unworthy) pronounce them
and their successors as animated by a spirit of contradiction, discontent, scandal, uncharitableness, disturbers
of peace, prevaricators of obedience and of all their vows,
until they shall have done penance so that their souls
may be saved on the day of the Lord. And in the meanwhile they are to learn how great an evil it is to defame
the Order, to set up divisions by separating themselves
from their brethren and from due obedience. And this
we do because we have no intention to lend our hand to
the creation of hellish discords, but rather to further the
perfection of Religious life in the Carmelite Order which
We wish to commend by saying that it is the most
perfect form of Religious life, as may be seen from its
Rule.

And in order that all may be done with due humility
and obedience We ordain that no convent shall be founded
unless the blessing of the Ordinary [i.e. the bishop or the
Vicar General] have first been obtained as the holy
Council enjoins, and let no one of lesser power than ourselves impede the dispositions of the said two fathers
jointly according to the tenor of these present letters
patent, under pain of privation of seat and voice [in
chapter], and of exile from our province of Castille.

In token of this our will we have ordered these present
letters patent to be written and to be signed with our
sign manual and to be sealed with the seal of our office.

On the 16th day of August 1567.

The place of issue is not stated but from other letters of the same
date it appears that Rubeo was then at Barcelona.

The Book Of The Foundations

Appendix II

Rule and Constitutions for the Discalced Friars of the
Order of our Lady of Mount Carmel, of the Primitive
Rule unrelaxed, observed in this kingdom of Castille,
given by our most reverend father, Fray JohnBaptist Rubeo of Ravenna, general of the said order.

THE ORDER TO BE OBSERVED IN SPIRITUALS

I. Let matins always be said at midnight and be
followed by an hour's mental prayer, after which the bell-ringer of the preceding week shall give the sign to retire.
In summer the friars shall rise at five, and continue in
prayer till six ; in winter at six, and continue in prayer
till seven. After meditation Prime and Terce shall be
recited. In summer they ring for mass at eight, and all
the year Sext shall be said before mass ; in winter they
ring at nine, and after mass they say None, but in summer
None shall be said at one o'clock.

2. Every day high mass shall be sung at which all the
religious shall officiate in turn ; the Hours shall be said
in monotone, the voices even, except on Sundays and
feasts. Let everyone be careful never to be absent from
choir for light cause ; when the Hours have been said
let them go at once to their work.

ON COMMUNION

3. Let the priests go to confession in hebdomada ad
minus, and the brothers who are not priests shall go to
confession and communion on all Sundays and feasts of
our Lord and on feasts of our Lady and of the saints of
the Order, according to the advice of their spiritual
father. The brothers, priests as well as those as are not
priests, shall prepare themselves for Communion, and
afterwards shall remain at least a quarter of an hour
giving thanks to the Lord pro beneficio suscepto et pro
conservatione gratiarum.

4. Shortly before dinner signal shall be made for
the examination of conscience, touching what they have
been doing that day, and the gravest fault they may
discover let them try to correct, and say one Pater noster
to obtain grace from God to that end. This examination
shall be held in the refectory or in the oratory after
the dinner bell has been rung.

5. At two o'clock vespers are to be said all the year
round, unless it be Lent when they are to be said at
eleven : at the end of vespers, when said at two o'clock,
let there be spiritual reading for an hour ; and when
vespers are said at eleven the spiritual reading is
to be at the aforesaid hour ; that time, however,
may be devoted to prayer according to each one's
devotion,

6. Compline, in summer, is to be said at six o'clock,
in winter at five. At eight, both in summer and winter
let the signal be given for silence, which must be kept
strictly till after Prime of the following day ; great care
must be bestowed on this point, and no one may enter
the cell of another at any time ; at all other times no
brother may speak to another without leave, except those
who are in office, and then only when necessary. Such
permission may be granted by the father prior when he
thinks it will serve to quicken more and more the love
of the Lord, or if anyone is in need of consolation or
suffers from temptation. The prohibition does not
extend to a word, a question or an answer, for so much
may be done without leave.

7. Compline being finished let them kneel down while
one of the brothers is reading aloud, so that all may hear
him, the point on which they are to meditate or which
they should consider during the hour of mental prayer.
The reading finished let them pray for an hour,

8. Let the father prior see that they have good books,
particularly those of the Carthusians, Contemptus mundi the
Oratory of Religious Fray Peter of Alcantara, Fray Luis
de Granada ; tor this nourishment is in part as necessary
for the soul as food is tor the body.

9. The whole time they are not present with the
community or discharging the duties of their office, they
must remain either in their cells or in the hermitage
which the father prior shall have assigned them as the
place of their retreat, doing some fitting work there,
fulfilling what the Rule prescribes concerning solitude
that every brother shall be alone in his cell. When
necessary the father prior may give permission to a
brother to enter the cell or hermitage of another, but
they must always speak in a low voice. Let no brother
call another ' Your Paternity,' but ' Your Reverence,'
nor ' You,' unless he be a priest ; they should address
each other ' Your Charity,' and be very polite to each
other. No one is to be called ' Master ' or ' Presentado '
even if he bear that title ; dropping the family names
let them adopt the names of those saints to whom they
have special devotion,

ON TEMPORALS

10. They must always live on alms, having no revenues
whatever ; and so long as they can bear it there must be
no begging ; great must be their need before they take
that step, rather let them provide for themselves by the
work of their hands, as S, Paul did, for our Lord will
furnish them with what is necessary, if they do not ask
for more, and are satisfied without comforts ; He will
not fail them, and they will be able to support life ; it
they labour with all their might to please our Lord
His Majesty will take care that they shall want
nothing.

11. Let the prior be most careful that they learn how
to work and are occupied in such labour as is fitting and
good for Religious and are never idle so that the devil
may never find them off their guard, and that they may
gain their bread, each one for the others, and what they
earn let them spend it in buying fish or sardines, and other
things lawful to eat, and let them accept what shall be given
in payment without haggling over it. They shall strive
to make as little noise as possible when at work. Let the
father prior appoint one of the brothers to distribute to
the others all that is necessary to them, to whom also shall
be handed what they have gained by their work, and if
anyone be careless, and the father prior so order it, let
him do some penance at the time of the repast in presence
of all.

12. The friars may not have anything as their own in
any way whatever, nor is that ever to be allowed them,
either for their food or their clothing ; they may not have a
chest or box or drawer or cupboard, unless they have some
office in the community ; everything must be in common ;
this is of great importance, for it is by little things the
devil is enabled to enter and destroy the perfection of
poverty ; the father prior therefore, must be very careful
should he notice a religious to be attached to anything,
whether it be a book or cell or anything else, to take it
away from him.

ON FASTING AND ABSTINENCE FROM FLESHMEAT

13. They must keep a fast from the Exaltation of the
Cross in September till Easter day, Sundays excepted.
They are never to eat meat except in case of illness, as
the rule enjoins.

14. The habit is to be of serge or frieze, black and undyed and as little stuff as possible is to be used in it, the
sleeves narrow, not wider at the wrists than at the
shoulder ; (the habit) not longer at the back than in front,
and without pleats, and reaching to the feet* ; the scapular
is to be made of the same stuff, but shorter than the habit
by four inches, the mantle of the same stuff, but
somewhat shorter than the scapular, and as little stuff to
be used in it as possible, due regard being had to what is
necessary. The tunics to be worn over the skin are to be
of serge, the underclothing of rough material. They are
to go bare-footed except in cold places where they may
wear sandals or wooden clogs. Necessity should always be
studied.

15. Let them sleep on beds with straw mattresses, without pillows, the sheets to be of serge ; there must be no
curtains of any kind, unless in case of necessity, a matting
of rushes or a door-screen of sack-cloth ; let it all be poor
and without study of comfort.

OF ENCLOSURE

16. Let them speak to no one except father or brother or
mother, or with persons from whom some good result may
be expected and who edify them by their words, but not tor
the sake of human recreation, but for the affairs of their
souls. Let them never speak with any woman, whether
in the porter's lodge or in the church except when hearing
their confessions and with leave from the father prior.

Let no woman of whatsoever estate enter the enclosure
of the monastery for any reason whatsoever ; but if one
come to the porter's lodge to treat with any of the friars
let the porter be present, and if they continue too long
let him tell them to be brief and have done.

17. No religious is to go out to visit anyone, but let
them always remain in their retreat, unless it be a preacher
who may go out to preach in the villages, or a confessor
to hear the confession of a sick person and minister consolation ; neither shall the preacher go to the house of any
person for his repast, unless it were that of his brother, but
if he is not too far let him return to the monastery for
his meals ; and it some sick person should wish the said
father to hear his confession and to console him, he may
go to his house without further permission from the father
prior. Let no religious eat out of the convent or mix
himself up in worldly matters. Let them strive to derive
some spiritual gain from their conversations with seculars,
and see that the latter, too, find some, without any loss
of time.

ON THE RECEIVING OF NOVICES

18. Great care must be taken that they whom they
receive be persons who give themselves to prayer and aim
at all] perfection and contempt of the world ; for if they
are not detached from the world when they come they will
hardly bear with the observances of the house, and it is
better to look to this beforehand than to send them away
afterwards. They should be healthy, sensible, and able
to carry out what is commanded them. Let no one be
received unless he knows the grammar, and when it is
proposed to receive someone the religious shall be asked
to give secret votes. Let them accept nothing from his
parents, tor it they had to send him away it might perhaps
be difficult to return to him what he had brought, as it
may have been spent.

19. The porter should accept nothing without having
first obtained leave from the father prior, nor shall any
religious without similar permission beg of any person
were it even his own father or mother.

20. Every day after collation or supper the porter
shall rise and tell the whole community what alms have
been received that day and from whom, in order that it
may be known who has given us alms on that day, so that
they may pray to the Lord for him, and every day both
after dinner and after collation let them recite a responsory
for his deceased friends.

21. Li each village they should have a secular person
to collect the alms given by devout persons for the
religious so that they may be brought to the monastery,
and no brother is to leave the monastery in order to fetch
them. They may, however, keep at the monastery a
lay-brother who may go out to do commissions ; he will
then wear a habit of black serve.

22. Each week one of the religious shall be appointed,
who shall be called zelator, whose office and duty it is to
notice the faults he may observe in his brethren, and each
evening after collation when the alms received that day
have been recited he shall say Benedicite, after which he
shall begin to make known the faults he has seen in each,
beginning by the seniors and proceeding to the youngest,
and any religious named shall kneel down and listen to
the correction of the taults committed without excusing
himself or saying a single word except in very grave
matters and with permission of the superior. But he
shall simply say : I will amend myself, and whenever
anyone is reprehended he must kneel down, so as to become accustomed to humbling himself.

ON THE HUMBLE OFFICES

23, The first on the list of those who are to sweep the
house is to be the father prior, that in all things he may
give a good example, and he shall likewise be the first to
fulfil the humble offices. Those who have the charge of
the wardrobe and the storeroom shall furnish the brethren
in all charity with what is required for their subsistence,
and with everything else. No more must be done
according to the rule for the father prior and the older
friars than for any of the others, but it must be as the
necessities and the age of each demand, and necessity
should be regarded rather than ae, for sometimes the
older the religious the fewer the wants ; great attention
should be paid to this in general, because it is necessary
for many reasons. Let no brother ever speak of his food,
whether he has little or much, whether it be well or ill
dressed. Let the prior or the one who is over the storeroom take care that it be well prepared so that they may
be satisfied with what is there given them seeing that they
have nothing else.

24. The brothers are bound to make their wants known
to the father prior, the novices to their master, whether
of raiment or food, and if they require anything out of the
way which cannot be given them let them praise God for
it, for they have come here to do penance.

OF THE SICK BROTHERS

25. Let the sick brothers be tended with affection,
charity and delicacy, consistently with our poverty, and
let them give thanks to our Lord when they are well
provided for, and if they want anything let them have
patience and not fret because they do not have what the
rich have at the moment of their need. The father
prior must take care that the healthy rather than the sick
be without necessaries. The sick are to be visited by the
religious. An infirmarian is to be placed over them
possessed of the charity and ability requisite for the
discharge of his duty. And the sick brothers must then
strive to show the perfection they have gained when in
health, by patience and by giving the least trouble they
can ; let them be always obedient to the infirmarian, and
they both will derive benefit from the sickness. Let them
have good beds with pillows and linen sheets, and linen
shirts may be served out to them. They may also go
out to take the air and may eat meat, and all the comfort
to be had is to be given them.

26. When a religious has to go out let him take no
money with him but rather ask for alms ; neither shall he
ride on horseback except in case of illness when he may
ride a horse or a he-mule, but not a she-mule which is
contrary to the rule. As for the dinner hour that
cannot be regular, because that must be as our Lord
gives ; when they have anything to eat the meal shall be
in winter at eleven and in summer at ten. Before sitting
down to eat, if our Lord inspires a brother to do an act
oi mortification, let him ask leave, and let not this good
practice be lost, out of which some profit is derived ; but
it must be quickly done, so that it shall not interfere with
the reading.

27. No brother may eat or drink without leave except
at dinner or supper.

28. When they come out from dinner and collation the
father prior may dispense with silence that they may
talk together of anything they like ; only it must be about
things a good religious may speak of.

29. Let them strive not to be wearisome one to another,
nor shall there be particular friendships, but let them all
love each other in general as Christ commanded his
apostles.

30. No one may publicly correct another for faults he
may see him commit ; if the faults be grave let him
remind the other of them charitably when they are alone,
and if no amendment follow after three admonitions let
him speak to the father prior. There are zelators whose
duty it is to notice faults and to make known what they
have seen, but let them mind their own and meddle not
with those which are committed in the discharge of the
duties of the house, unless it be something m-ave which
they are under obligation to observe. Let them be very
careful never to defend themselves when found fault with,
unless it be in grave matters, for they will make great
profit thereby. The father prior should nominate
another relator secretly to tell him the faults committed in the house which may have escaped the public
zelator.

31 . The punishment of the faults and failings committed
in regard to the things mentioned shall be in conformity
with our rule, namely the penalties detailed in our holy
constitutions for greater and minor faults.

32. In all that has been said the father prior may
dispense as far as is right, with discretion and charity, as
it does not oblige under the penalty of sin, but only under
bodily penance.

33. The monastery should never be of costly workmanship, except the church, nor should there be anything
elaborate. The woodwork shall be rough, just as it leaves
the timber-yard ; the house small, the rooms low, so as to
answer to necessity, and nothing superfluous, but everything as solid as it can be made ; the enclosure wall high.
They may have a field wherein to construct hermitages in
which to retire for prayer conformably to the custom of
our holy fathers.

34. In our constitutions, to which we hereby refer, is
said what each one must do for the discharge of his various
duties ; what has been laid down above refers to the
employment of time.

Given by our most Reverend Father fray John Baptist
Rubeo, General of the whole Order of our Lady of
Mount Carmel.

The Book Of The Foundations

Appendix III

The General to Fray Alonso Gonzalez, provincial of
Castille. Nothing pertaining to our office should be
neglected by us, particularly in matters concerning the
guardianship and protection of our nuns, to whom it
is necessary very frequently to offer consolation and
assistance, partly by the sacred ministry of the sacraments,
partly by whatever else is conducive to the perfection of
the conventual life, so that by means of spiritual exhortations the spiritual wickedness, suggested by the old
serpent, may be driven off or at least for a time
neutralised. In order that all this may be duly carried
out we command you. Reverend Master Alonso Gonalez,
who on account ot your merits are the provincial of our
province of Castille, to take great care of our nuns
professing the primitive rule, both of convents already
founded as of others to be founded hereafter ; to watch
over them as their superior, and in virtue of these present
letters emanating from our generalship to govern, rule,
order and direct them, not, indeed, according to your
likes and dislikes, not after the lines of the mitigated
rule, but as already has been said after the directions of
the primitive rule and according to our constitutions
which were drawn up in harmony with the said rule. We
grant you this faculty and authority not because you
are provincial, but inasmuch as you are our own
special commissionary chosen and commissioned by us
to this end. You shall continue to fill this office
and enjoy this authority until we shall make some other
arrangement ; and so long as you are not deprived of
it by ourselves, even after the expiration of your
provincialship, no one may deprive you thereof. And
should anyone, of lesser dignity than ourselves, attempt
directly or indirectly to molest you on account of it, we
hereby declare him deprived of seat and voice in chapter
and altogether unfit for the offices of the Order, and should
he not withdraw from his presumption we strike him, as
rebel, with the sword of excommunication. We command
to all the nuns professing the first rule (as far as they are
subject to us) to pay you, in virtue of the Holy Ghost,
that obedience which they have solemnly vowed to God
and to the Superiors of the Order, from which they
cannot withdraw without incurring the judgment of God,
and we oblige them to render you such obedience not less
promptly than if we ourselves were present. â€” In testimony
whereof, etc.

Given in Rome in our monastery of Santa Maria
Traspontina, this 15th day of May 1569.

The provincialship of Fray Alonso Gonealez expired 23rd
September 1570, when Fray Angel de Salazar succeeded him.

The Book Of The Foundations

Appendix IV

LETTERS PATENT FOR THE CGXTEISIPLATIVE CARMELITES OF
THE PROVINCE OF CASTILLE

Friar John Baptist Rubeo, etc.

We strive to the utmost of our power and exercise all
our diligence for the furtherance of peace, tranquillity and
a hearty concord among our religious. For wherever
there are contentions and strife, there the characteristics
of the Church of God are not to be found, but rather the
appetites of the flesh and a return to worldly life. Inasmuch as we have learnt that various things are being
done which might cause dissensions and quarrels which it
is our desire to remove and suppress, we in pursuance of
the authority of our office of General by these present
letters patent declare and ordain that our friars commonly
called the contemplative or Discalced Carmelites, professing the primitive rule under obedience to us, shall in
no way and at no time be allowed to receive among
themselves and without having first obtained our leave
in writing any of the friars of our Order belonging to the
provinces of Spain or Portugal. And we most particularly
forbid them to receive those of the province of Andalucia
who have been subjected by us to penance for being
always rebellious and refusing obedience to us, such as friar
Master Ambrose de Castro, formerly prior of Valladolid,
friars Gaspar Nieto, Melchior Nieto, John de Mora and
their accomplices, lest the entire flock of the Contemplatives
be corrupted by them. For they have always given way
to dissensions and quarrels. As to the Portuguese,
provided they be not fugitives, and have received
dimissorial letters from their superiors and be determined
to remain perpetually we shall not prevent them from
being received. But of the triars of the province
of Castille let them receive only those who shall
have obtained dimissorial letters from the Rev. Father
Provincial for the time being ; and let not the said
provincial be too easy in granting such licence as it would
be very imprudent and prejudicial it the convents and
churches of our province of Castille remained without
the proper number of friars, for the obligations of Divine
service could not be properly fulfilled and the souls of
the faithful who had bequeathed legacies to our churches
would be deprived of holy mass and other suffrages.
Should it happen that any of our friars already received
or to be received hereafter on the aforesaid conditions
were to relinquish the society of the Contemplatives we
hereby declare and pronounce them exiles from all
convents of all the Spanish provinces of our order.
Moreover, lest peace and obedience be disturbed which
should rather be maintained we will that our religious,
followers of the primitive rule, without any prejudice
whatsoever to the stricter life they have chosen, be bound
to obey the Rev. Father provincial for the time being,
that they be visited by him, and, if necessary, corrected
within their own houses, provided always they be not
transferred to other convents of the province, no more
than it behoves the friars of the other convents of the
province to be sent to those of the Contemplatives. The
very priors of the Contemplatives together with their society
shall have seat and voice, active as well as passive, in the
provincial chapters, everything to that effect in our
Constitutions remaining in vigour. Nor is it our will
that they receive and accept other convents besides those
they already have. And the number of religious living
in each convent shall not exceed twenty. And we
prescribe and command, first, in virtue of holy obedience,
secondly, under pain of privation of seat and voice and of
all offices during our pleasure, and lastly under the
penalty of excommunication latae sententiae and suspension
from Divine offices, to all our subjects, both of the
province and of the Contemplatives that they in no way
dare or presume under any pretext whatsoever to contradict or disobey the decrees and ordinations contained
and expressed in these letters patent. But should it
happen that any of the aforesaid should receive among
them Contemplatives they shall be bound under the same
penalties and censures, as soon as they have heard this
decree, to expel them forthwith. Finally be it known to
all that it is necessary, tor the province of Castille and the
whole order to have a house at Madrid near the court of
His sacred and Catholic Majesty King Philip, on account
of the affairs which continually arise in our whole order ;
whereftore, lest our religious to the great scandal of the
faithful appear to be moving about and staying out of
their monasteries, we have caused such a convent to be
built, and it would be wrong under pretext of sanctity and
relying on the favour of the rich to leave the establishment
of a house belonging to the whole order to the province
of Castille, and to reserve it for the use of only a few.
We certainly should be unwilling to suffer this. â€” Horum
omnium, etc.

Given at Rome m our convent of Santa Maria
Traspontina, on the 8th day of August 1570.

The Letters of St. Teresa

Table of Contents

Translator's Preface.

No. I. To Philip II. King of Spain.

No. II.To the most Illustrious Lady Louisa de la Cerda, of Malagon.

No. III.To the Most Illustrious Lady Anne Henriquez, of Toro.

No. IV.To the Reverend Father Louis of Granada, of the Order of St. Dominic.

No. V. To the Reverend Father Pedro IbaÃ±ez.

No. VI. To the Reverend Father John de Jesu Roca, Carmelite, at Pastrana.

No. VII. To the Most Illustrious Don Alonzo Velasquez, bishop of Osma.1

No. VIII.To the Reverend Father Gonzalo de Avila, of the Society of Jesus.

No. IX. To the Most Illustrious Lord Don Teutonio de Braganza, afterwards Archbishop of Evora, at Salamanca.

No. X.To the Most Illustrious Lord Don Teutonio de Braganza, Archbishop of Evora.

No. XI.To SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Cepeda y Ahumada, Brother to the Saint.

No. XII.To SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother to the Saint.

No. XIII.To the Most Illustrious Lord Don Alonso Valasquez, Bishop of Osma.

No. XIV.To the Most Illustrious Lord Don Alvaro de Mendoza, Bishop of Avila, at Olmedo.

No. XV.To the Most Illustrious Lord, Don Alvaro de Mendoza, Bishop of Avila.

No. XVI.To the most Illustrious Lord, Don Sancho D'Avila, afterwards Bishop of Jaen.

No. XVII.To the Very Illustrious Lord, Don Sancho D'Avila.

No. XVIII.To the Very Reverend Father, Fray Juan Bautista Rubeo de Ravena, General of the Order of our Lady of Mount Carmel.

No. XIX.To the Very Reverend Father Domingo BaÃ±ez, of the Order of St. Dominic.

No. XX.To the very Reverend Father Prior of the Carthusian Monastery at Seville.

No. XXI.To the Reverend Father Rodrigo Alvarez, of the Society of Jesus.

No. XXII.To the Reverend Father Provincial of the Society of Jesus, in the Province of Castile.

No. XXIII.To the Reverend Father Gonzalo de Avila, of the Society of Jesus.

No. XXIV.To the Reverend Father Geronimo Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

No. XXV.To the Reverend Geronimo Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

No. XXVI.To the Reverend Father Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

No. XXVII.To the Reverend Father Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

No. XXVIII. To the Reverend Father Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

No. XXIX.To the Reverend Father Ambrosio Mariano, of St. Benedict, Carmelite.

No. XXX.To SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother to the Saint.

No. XXXI.To SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother of the Saint.

No. XXXII.To Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother of the Saint.

No. XXXIII. To Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother of the Saint.

No. XXXIV.To Don Diego de Guzman y Cepeda.

No. XXXV. To a person who was afflicted at the death of his wife.

No. XXXVI. To Diego Ortiz, Citizen of Toledo.

No. XXXVII. To Alonzo Ramirez, Citizen of Toledo.

No. XXXVIII. To DoÃ±a Isabel Ximena, at Segovia.

PART II.

No. XXXIX. To Mother Catherine
de Christo, Prioress of the Discalced Carmelites of the Convent of the
Most Holy Trinity at Soria, and to the Religious of the said House.

No. XL. To Mother Catherine de Christo, Prioress of the Carmelites at Soria.

No. XLI. To Sister Leonor de la Misericordia, Carmelite in the Convent of the Most Holy Trinity at Soria.

No. XLII. To Sister Teresa de Jesus, Carmelite in St. Joseph's Convent at Avila.

No. XLIII.To Mother Maria
Bautista, Prioress of the Discalced Carmelites belonging to the Convent
of the Immaculate Conception at Valladolid.

No. XLIV. To Mother Maria Bautista, Prioress of the Carmelites at Valladolid.

No. XLV. To the Mother Prioress of the Carmelites at Malagon.

No. XLVI. To the Mother-Prioress and Religious of the Convent of St. Joseph del Salvador, at Veas.

No. XLVII. To the Carmelites of St. Joseph's Convent at Seville.

No. XLVIII. To the Carmelites of St. Joseph's Convent at Seville.

No. XLIX. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of St. Joseph's Convent at Seville.

No. L. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LI. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LII.To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LIII.To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LIVTo Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LV. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LVI. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LVII. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville

No. LVIII. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LIX. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LX. To the Mother Prioress and Religious of the Convent of St. Joseph at Granada.

APPENDIX.I.
Advices which the Holy Mother Teresa de Jesus gave to her Children during her life.

APPENDIX II.

APPENDIX III.

APPENDIX IV.

APPENDIX V.

The Letters of St. Teresa

Translator's Preface.

I TRUST this first volume of Saint Teresa's "Letters," now presented to
the public, will be read with that profit, interest, and delight which
they are so eminently calculated to produce. If volumes filled with the
"Life and Correspondence" of statesmen, poets, philosophers, travellers,
military men, &c., be now so universally sought after, how ought we
to prize the "Correspondence" of St. Teresa? Her "Letters" far
surpass in sterling worth (as well as abound in circumstances invested
with the deepest interest) the letters of any statesman, poet, or
philosopher of modern times, however great such may have been in the
eyes of the world. However pure or elegant their style may be, they
cannot equal the classic purity of St. Teresa's; however interesting may
be the events recorded in them, they cannot surpass in interest the
wondrous events mentioned by St. Teresa, whether they relate to the
supernatural state, or to the occurrences of ordinary life, or to her
familiar and loving intercourse with her brothers and sisters; or to the
delightful outpourings of her noble soul to her confessors; or to the
edifying exhortations she gives to her Religious; or to the wit,
vivacity, and playfulness with which she both delights and amuses those
to whom she writes.

Her correspondence was most extensive, including bishops, archbishops,
kings, ladies of rank, gentlemen of the world, abbots, priors, nuncios,
her confessors, her brothers and sisters, rectors of colleges,
fathers-provincial of the Society of Jesus, nuns and superiors of her
convents and monasteries, learned doctors of different religious orders,
and even most eminent saints, such as St. Peter of Alcantara, St.
Francis Borgia, St. John of the Cross, &c.

In the "Letters" of St. Teresa it seems to me that all her admirable
endowments, both of nature and of grace, can be more clearly discovered
than in any of her other works. When we puruse her "Life," or "The
Interior Castle," one is at first inclined to imagine that the Saint
was altogether unearthly, unfit for the cares and troubles of
life; that all her time must have been spent in holding sweet converse
with her Beloved, and sighing for the hour when she should be united
with Him for ever, and that visions and raptures must have engrossed all
the powers of her soul. Others, again, might fancy that the Saint must
have been very grave, austere, solemn exceedingly scrupulous, and given
to melancholy. Some might also be inclined to believe that she was quite
an enthusiast,[1] led away by the ardent
temperament of her character, or the vagaries of an unsteady
imagination. But how quickly are such erroneous ideas scattered, when we
read her admirable "Letters!" They soon convince us that the Saint
possessed what we call "common sense" in a most remarkable manner; that
so far from being an enthusiast, she was endowed with a solidity of
judgment, and a prudence and sweetness in all her actions, which won the
admiration of every one; that she was so careful to guard against
melancholy, as never to allow anyone to enter the Order who
seemed to be the lest infected with it. With regard to herself, we shall
see, by perusing her "Letters," that she was cheerfulness itself, even
in the midst of her greatest trials and afflictions, and withal
exceedingly witty, lively, and jocose; indeed, her naivetÃ© is one of the greatest charms of her "Letters" These will show us, too, that her raptures and visions did not in the least,
interfere with her ordinary duties, for she was an excellent and most
admirable "woman of business." Considering her numerous labours, duties,
journeys, sicknesses, and infirmities, is it not surprising how she
could find time to carry on such an extensive correspondence? Juan de
Palafox,[2] the celebrated bishop of Osma,
remarks, "that it was principally by her Letters the Saint was enabled
to effect the reform of the Carmelite Order."

All the biographers of the Saint speak in the highest terms of her
"Letters." It is unnecessary to quote here the praises bestowed on them
by AbbÃ© Boucher, F. Ribera, Villefore, S. Antonio,[3] Diego de Yepes, Bishop Palafox,[4]
the Bollandists, Dom Taste, Colliombet, &c. The reader will soon
perceive their beauty, and be charmed almost out of himself, with the
admirable character with which they invest the Saint. What love and
tenderness does she not show towards her sisters in religionâ€“what zeal
for their advancement in virtueâ€“what gentleness in correcting themâ€“what
sweetness, and charity, and forbearance toward those who opposed her
reformâ€“what gratitude for the least favourâ€“what discretion, judgment,
and consummate prudence in the management of affairsâ€“what affection for
her brothers and sistersâ€“what tact and powers of persuasionâ€“what
admirable maxims of morality does she not inculcateâ€“what sublime
discourses on the wonders of the supernatural life does she not deliver?
Indeed, it is not too much to say, that had the Saint written nothing
but her "Letters," these alone would have been sufficient to
entitle her to the admiration of the whole world, as well as to the love
and gratitude of every devout soul. I know no letters written by any
other saint which can equal those of Saint Teresa, and which have
effected so much good. We can have no idea how highly they are prized in
France, Italy, and Spain; and this, too, not merely by "Religious," but
by the population in general. I trust their translation into
Englishâ€“now for the first timeâ€“will be received with the interest such
letters deserve, and that those who read them devoutly may derive
abundant spiritual profit and delight from their perusal. The Second
Volume shall appear in due time.

Abraham Woodhead translated only a few of the letters, which are
appended to the second part of the Saint's works. The zealous community
of Carmelite nuns at Mount Carmel, Darlington, have in manuscript a
translation in English of the Saint's "Letters;" but as the translation
is made from the French, it is very inaccurate. L'AbbÃ© Pelicot published
a translation of several letters of the Saint in French, which appeared
in 1660: a second volume was published at Lille in 1696, translated by
Pierre de la MÃ¨re de Dieu. The style of both these translations is far
from pleasing: the words are antiquated, and the sense often
misunderstood. D'Andilly also published a translation; but on the whole
it is not a faithful one, for having been a Jansenist,[5]
he cannot be trusted. Let us hope it will soon be superseded
altogether, by the very excellent translation of St. Teresa's works
undertaken by the learned Father Bouix, of the Society of Jesus. In 1753
appeared another translation of the Letters, from the pen of M. Chappe
de Ligni, a French lawyer. This translation is both faithful and
elegant; it does not, however, include all the Saint's Letters. There is
also another translation, made by Marie Marguerite de Maupeou;[6]
this did not appear till 1748. Dom Taste has adorned it with a valuable
preface and many useful notes, besides arranging the Letters in
chronological order, as far as could be done with certainty. Though many
admire this translation, yet the "Bollandists" seem to think it is not
so correct as one could wish. L'AbbÃ© Migne follows Chappe de Ligni and
Madame de Maupeou, in his edition of the Saint's Letters.[7]
He has added three Letters never before published, which he lately
informed me were found in the Convent of the Carmelites at Paris. But
L'AbbÃ© Migne acknowledges in his letter to me, that the translation is
not quite correct. I have, however, given these three Letters in [8]
Several of them were at different periods her confessors. Many of her
Letters are addressed to them, as for instance to Padre Rodrigo Alvarez,
to F. Ribera Gonzalo de Avila, Padre Juan Suarez, Gaspar de Salazar,
and Balthasar Alvarez,[9] &c. In [10] But as I have been
disappointed in some valuable works which I expected to have received, I
must defer the pleasing task to the last volume of the translation of
the Letters. I have, however, added a few Notes, which I hope will be
found useful: too many would only turn away the reader's attention from
the golden words of the Saint. To each Letter I have prefixed a short
summary of the contents, and also the number of the Letter in the
Spanish edition.

I dare not flatter myself, that I have always succeeded in giving the
true sense of the original, or in translating the classic words of the
Saint into good English, and at the same time preserving the grace and
elegance of the epistolary style. This is no easy task. Still I may say
with truth, that I have taken all possible pains. I shall feel grateful
in being corrected and told of my faults.

I take this opportunity of returning my most sincere thanks to His
Eminence Cardinal Wiseman, to Bishop Wareing, Bishop Ullathorne, and
Bishop Brown of Shewsbury, as well as several priests, for the kind
encouragement I have received, and for the interest they have taken in
the translation of St. Teresa's works.

To the Rev. Joseph Brown, of' Mount Carmel, Darlington, I am indebted
for the loan of the Spanish edition of the Saint's Letters, and to the
Very Rev. T. Sing for sending me a correct facsimile of the Saint's
handwriting. The superiors of the convents of Mount Carmel and Llanherne
have also very kindly lent me several valuable works, for which I
return my grateful thanks.

At the end of the first volume of the Letters in the Spanish edition, appear certain "Advices"[11]
which the Saint gave, partly when she was alive, and some after her
death. They are addressed to several individuals. Many of the advices
are more like maxims or proverbs. They are illustrated by the remarks by
Bishop Palafox. Most of these I have given in [12]

JOHN DALTON.

Bishop's House, Northampton, 1853.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. I. To Philip II. King of Spain.

The Saint implores the protection of his Majesty against certain
individuals who were endeavouring to injure the character of Father
Gracian, and also to prevent the reformation of the order. The
persecution was raised in Seville. The date of the letter is about the
year 1577. It is remarkable for the zeal and pious boldness with which
the Saint addresses so illustrious a monarch.

JESUS. The grace of the holy Spirit be ever with your Majesty. Amen.

I have heard that a memorial has been presented to your Majesty against
the Rev. Father Gracian. This stratagem of the devil and his ministers
has indeed terrified me, because, not content with defaming the
character of this servant of God (and he is truly such, for he gives
great edification to all of us; and whenever he visits our monasteries, I
am informed that he always fills the religious with renewed fervour),
his enemies are now striving to injure those houses in which our Lord is
so devoutly served.

For this purpose they have made use of two Carmelite Friars, one of whom
was a servant in our monastery, before he took the habit; but he
committed himself in such a way more than once, as plainly to show us he
possessed but little judgment. The others who are opposed to Father
Gracian (because he has the power of punishing them)â€“have induced these
Carmelites to sign such foolish charges against the nuns, that I should
certainly laugh at them, were I not fearful, lest the devil might be
able to draw some evil from them. Such accusations, if true, would be
monstrous, considering the habit we wear.

I beseech your Majesty, then, for the love of God, not to allow such
scandalous charges to be made before a court of justice, because, should
we give an occasion, the world might be inclined to believe we had done
something evil, even though our innocence should be proved.

The reformation of the order, hitherto so blessed by the divine
goodness, might be seriously injured by the least stain. Your Majesty
would be able to form a judgment in the matter, should you be pleased to
read the attestation which Father Gracian has thought proper to draw
up, respecting these monasteries. It includes the testimony of those who
have communication with the nuns, and they are persons of great weight
and holiness.

Moreover, since the motive by which those are influenced who have
written the memorial can easily be discovered, I beseech your Majesty to
examine the matter, because the honour and glory of God are concerned;
for if our enemies should see that some attention is paid to their
charges, they will not hesitate, in order to prevent a visitation, to
accuse as a heretic whoever shall undertake to make it: and this would
not be difficult to do, where there is no fear of God.

I quite sympathize with the sufferings of this servant of God, which he
endures with such patience and perfection; and this induces me to
beseech your Majesty, either to take him under your protection, or to
remove the cause of these dangers, for he belongs to a family that is
extremely attached to your Majesty: independent of this consideration,
he has great merits of his own. I consider him to be a man sent by God
and our blessed Lady, for whom he has such a tender devotion. Our Lord
conducted him to our order, that he might be of assistance to me: for as
I have now laboured alone for more than seventeen years, my weak health
will not allow me to endure much more.

I beg of your Majesty to pardon me for having entered so much into these
particulars: but the great respect which I have for your Majesty,
emboldened me to do so; for I considered, that as our Lord endured my
indiscreet complaints, so also would your Majesty. May God be pleased to
hear all the prayers of the religious, both men and women, that your
Majesty may have a long life; for we have no other protector on earth.

I remain, your Majesty's unworthy Servant, and Subject,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. II.To the most Illustrious Lady Louisa de la Cerda, of Malagon.

The Saint gives the lady an account of the state of her health, and asks her co-operation in a new foundation. The date is 1568.

JESUS BE WITH YOU, MADAM. I have neither time nor strength to write a
long letter, for now I write to few persons: it is, however, not very
long ago since I wrote to your ladyship. My health has altogether
failed me. I found myself much better when I was residing with you,
although the people here are attached to meâ€“praise be to God. But as I
am with you in affection, so I desire to be in body also.

Are you not astonished, madam, to see how sweetly our Lord conducts all
things? Blessed be His name, for having been pleased to commit our
interests into the hands of those who are so devoted to His service; I
think the undertaking will be very agreeable to His Majesty.

For the love of God, madam, endeavour to obtain leave. I think it best,
however, my name should not be mentioned to the Governor; but only that
he be requested to allow a house of Carmelite Nuns to be established. He
should also be informed, what great good these religious do, wherever
they are placed (at least, this may be said with truth of the nuns at
Malagon: praise be to God for it).

When permission has been obtained, your ladyship will see how soon I
shall be with you: our Lord seems unwilling that we should be separated.
May His Majesty be pleased to unite us together in (eternal) glory,
together with all my superiors, to whose prayers I constantly recommend
myself. Write and tell me how your ladyship is: you are very negligent
in doing me this favour.

The Sisters send their most respectful regards to you. You cannot
imagine how many indulgences we have obtained for the benefactors of
this order: they are innumerable.

May our Lord be with your Ladyship.

Your Ladyship's unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS, Carmelite.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. III.To the Most Illustrious Lady Anne Henriquez, of Toro.

The Saint expresses her great desire to see this lady, and praises two of the nuns, &c. The date is 1574.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be ever with your ladyship.

It gave me great comfort to find your ladyship in this place.[13]
I do not regret the journey, as I now have more leisure to enjoy your
company than I had at Salamanca. I have not deserved this favour from
our Lord: may He be for ever praised. The prioress is quite well and
happy; she is much better than I am, and she is also exceedingly devoted
to your ladyship.

I was much pleased on hearing that you have been entertaining Father Baltasar Alvarez[14]
for a few days, for he requires some repose from his numerous labours.
Our Lord be praised for giving you better health than usual. Mine is
better now than it has been for several years past, and this is saying a
great deal, considering the season of the year.

I have found such pure souls in this house, that I have praised our Lord
for such a blessing. I consider Sister Stephanie to be a saint, and I
feel great pleasure in beholding the merits of Sister Casilda, and the
favours which our Lord bestows upon her ever since she put on the habit.
May our Lord advance them more and more in perfection, for we should
esteem those souls highly, whom He chooses so early for Himself.

I cannot help admiring the simplicity of Sister Stephanie in everything
relating to God, when I consider the wisdom and truth of her words. The
Father Provincial has made the visitation of this house,[15]
and the election has taken place. The prioress has been unanimously
re-elected. One of the sisters of St. Joseph's of Avila has been chosen
sub-prioress; she takes the name of Antonia of the Holy Spirit. Lady
Guiomar is acquainted with her; she is a very devout soul.

The foundation of Zamora has been deferred, at least, for the present,
and I am on the point of resuming my long journey. I intend to pass
through your place, in order to have the pleasure of paying my respects
to your ladyship. It is now some time since I received a letter from my
Father Baltasar Alvarez; neither have I written to him, not, however,
through any desire of mortification, for I never profited by his advice
as I ought to have done. But you cannot conceive what difficulty I have
in writing these letters; even when they are for my own pleasure, I can
never find time. Blessed be God whom we hope to enjoy in security for
ever; for upon nothing can we rely in this world, with all its trials
and changes. I live with the hope of arriving at this end; people say
"it is amidst sufferings," but I find none.

The mother prioress compliments me on my charge; he appears in her eyes to be as charming a child[16]
as he does in mine. I beseech our Lord to make him a great saint. Do
not forget to give my respects to your husband, and the same also to Don
Juan Antonio: I often recommend them to our Lord. Do not, madam, for
the love of God, forget me in your prayers, for I always stand in need
of them. As you remark, there is no occasion for us to trouble ourselves
about Lady Guiomar, and so she tells me herself in stronger words. I
should be glad to hear some beginning has been made towards so good a
work. I wish to know what it is, and to enjoy the same delight that you
feel. May our Lord give your ladyship abundance of joy during this
feast, as great as I pray you may have.

To-day being the feast of St. Thomas, Father Dominic (BaÃ±ez)[17]
gave us a sermon, in which he so highly extolled the merit of
suffering, that I felt a great desire to endure many, and I requested of
our Lord to give me some for the future. The Father's sermons give me
very great pleasure. He has been chosen prior. I do not know if his
election will be confirmed. He has been so much engaged, that I have
enjoyed but little of his company; however, I shall be content, if I can
enjoy yours as long.

May our Lord direct your Ladyship, and give you such health and rest as
may be necessary for arriving at that happiness which has no end.

Your Ladyship's unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. IV.To the Reverend Father Louis of Granada, of the Order of St. Dominic.

The Saint expresses an ardent desire to see this great man, and recommends herself to his prayers. Date, 1577.

THE grace of the Holy Spirit be ever with your Reverence. Amen.

I consider myself as one among that great number of persons who love
your Reverence in the Lord, for having written such holy and useful
works, and who give thanks to His Majesty for having made you
instrumental in the good of so many souls. I think no difficulty would
prevent me from going to hear the words of one who consoles me so much
by his writings, did not my sex and state of life put an obstacle in the
way.

But independent of this consideration, I am obliged to seek for persons
like you to calm the fears in which I have now lived for some years.
And though I have not deserved this favour, I have been consoled by the
command I have received from His Grace Don Teutonio,[18]
to address this letter to you; this I should not have presumed to do of
myself. But the confidence which I placed in obedience, induces me to
hope in our Lord, that your Reverence will sometimes remember me in your
prayers. I stand in great need of them, both because I have little
merit of myself, and because I am exposed to the eyes of the world,
without being in any way able to justify the good opinion which people
have of me.

If your Reverence knew how I was situated, you would then be induced to
grant me this favour, which I ask as an alms. You who know so well the
Majesty of God, can easily imagine how great must be the sufferings of
one, who has led such a wicked life as I have. But though so wicked, I
have often presumed to ask of our Lord to give your Reverence a long
life. May His Majesty grant me this favour, and may your Reverence
increase more and more in holiness and divine love.

Your Reverence's unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS, Carmelite.

P.S.â€“Don Teutonio is one of those who are deceived in their opinion of
me. He tells me that he esteems your Reverence highly. In return, your
Reverence should visit his Grace, and tell him not to be so credulous
without cause.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. V. To the Reverend Father Pedro IbaÃ±ez.

The Saint, having written her "Life" by the command of this her holy
Director, sent him the manuscript with the following letter. The date is
about 1562.[19]

JESUS. The Holy Ghost be always with your Reverence. Amen.

It would not be amiss, in writing to your Reverence, to dwell on this
service of mine, in order to oblige you the more to take particular care
in recommending me to God. And this I could well do, seeing it has cost
me so dear to behold myself in writing, and thus to have brought to my
remembrance so many of my miseries, though I can with truth say, that I
have experienced more reluctance in mentioning the favours which our
Lord has shown me, than I should have felt in mentioning the offences I
have committed against His Majesty.

I have done what your Reverence commanded me, to enter into more
particulars; but upon this condition, that your Reverence also will
perform what you promised me, viz., to tear out whatever you do not
approve. When your Reverence sent for the manuscript, I had not finished
the perusal of it after having written it. Hence you may find some
things not very clearly explained, and others mentioned twice over; for
the time I had was so short, that I could not review what I had written.
I beseech your Reverence to correct it; and order it to be transcribed,
if it must be sent to Father Avila, otherwise some one may know my
hand.

I am very desirous such orders may be given, as he thinks proper, since
it is with this intention I began to write. If he shall judge I am going
on in a safe way, this will give me great consolation, for there will
be no more to do on my part. Your Reverence must do whatever you think
best; consider how bound you are to one who thus confides her soul to
you. Your soul I will recommend to our Lord all the days of my
life; make haste, then, to serve His Majesty, in order to be able to do
me this favour, for your Reverence will see, by what is now sent you,
how well you are employed in giving yourself wholly to Him (as your
Reverence has already begun so to do) who gives Himself to us without
reserve. May He be blessed for ever: I hope in His mercy, that both your
Reverence and myself may one day meet together in that kingdom, where
we shall more clearly understand the great favours He has been pleased
to show us both, and praise Him for ever and ever. Amen.

Your Reverence's unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. VI. To the Reverend Father John de Jesu Roca, Carmelite, at Pastrana.

The Saint having been imprisoned by the decree of a general chapter,
shows in this letter the greatest patience and joy in sufferings. Date,
1579.

JESUS. Mary and Joseph be in the soul of my father John de Jesu.

I received your Reverence's letter in this prison, where I am now filled
with the greatest delight, because I endure all my troubles for my God
and for my order. That which grieves me, my father, is the affliction
your Reverence feels for me; this it is that troubles me. Do not,
however, my son, be troubled, nor any one else, since I may say, like
another Paul, though not his equal in sanctity, That prisons, labours,
persecutions, torments, ignominies, and insults for my Saviour,[20] and for my order, are to me delights and favours.

I never knew myself to be more free from troubles than I am now. It
belongs to God to help the afflicted and imprisoned with His favour and
assistance. I give my God a thousand thanks; and it is proper we should
all thank Him for the favour He has done me by this imprisonment. My son
and father, can there be a greater delight or sweetness, than in
suffering for our good God? When were the saints at the height of their
joy, but when they were suffering for their God and Saviour? This is the
most secure and certain path that leads to God, since the cross should
be our joy and delight. Let us, then, my father, seek the cross: let us
desire the cross; let us embrace afflictions; and whenever we have none,
woe to the Carmelite order, woe to us.

You tell me in your letter how the Nuncio has given orders, "That no
more convents of our order should be founded, and that those already
erected must be taken down, by the request of the father general." You
also mention that the Nuncio is exceedingly angry against me, and
considers me a troublesome woman, and of a roving disposition;[21]
that the world is in arms against me, and my sons, who hide themselves
in the rocks of the mountains, and the most retired places, in order not
to be found and taken. This is what I lamentâ€“what I feelâ€“what grieves
me, that for such a sinner and wicked nun as I am, my sons should endure
so many persecutions and afflictions, and should be abandoned by all
men; but not by God; for of this I am certain, He will not forsake us, nor abandon those who love Him so tenderly.

But in order that you, my son, and the rest of your brothers may
rejoice, I will tell you something very consoling; but this must be in
confidence between myself, your reverence, and Father Mariano; for I
should be grieved if others knew it. You must know then, my father, how a
certain nun[22] of this house, being in
prayer on the vigil of the feast of my Father St. Joseph, he appeared to
her in company with the Blessed Virgin and her Son; and she noticed how
they stood, asking for the reformation (of the order); and our Lord
told her, "that many both in hell and on earth rejoiced greatly to see,
as they supposed, the order dissolved; but that when the Nuncio
commanded its dissolution, God confirmed it." He told her to have
recourse to the king,[23] who in everything
would be to her and her sons as a father. Our Lady and St. Joseph said
the same, and several other things not fit to be mentioned in a letter.
She was also told that within twenty days I should be delivered from
prison, God so willing. Let us then all rejoice, for from this day
forward the reform will continue to advance more and more.

What your Reverence should do is, to continue in the house of Madame
Maria de Mendoza till you hear again from me; and Father Mariano must go
and present this letter to the king, and another to the duchess of
Pastrana. I hope your Reverence will not leave the house, least you
might be apprehended, for we shall soon see ourselves at liberty.

I am well and strong, thanks be to God. My companion is displeased.
Recommend us to God, and say a mass of thanksgiving in honour of my
Father St. Joseph. Do not write to me till I tell you. May God make you a
holy and perfect Carmelite.

Father Mariano advises your Reverence and Father Jerome de la Madre de Dios, to consult in secret the Duke de Infantado.

TERESA DE JESUS.

Wednesday, 25th of March, 1579.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. VII. To the Most Illustrious Don Alonzo Velasquez, bishop of Osma.1

The Saint gives his Lordship an account of the state of her soul. He was then her confessor at Toledo. Date, 1581.[24]

JESUS. Oh! that I could make your Reverence understand the quiet and
tranquillity which my soul now enjoys. She is now so certain she is to
enjoy God, that He seems already to have given her the possession,
though not the enjoyment of Him. It is as if some one had, by a legal
deed, settled a great estate upon another, so that he should have
possession of it after a certain period, and receive the rents; but till
then, he was to enjoy only the reversion then made over to him.

But through the gratitude he feels for the donor, he does not wish to
enjoy the estate now, because he thinks he does not deserve it, but only
to serve Him, even though it were by much suffering. He sometimes even
thinks this were but little, though his afflictions should last till the
end of the world, provided he could be of service to the giver of this
possession; for in truth, such a person is not, in this respect, subject
to the miseries of the world, as he used to be formerly, because,
though he endures more, it seems to be only outwardly; for the soul is
as it were in a castle with sovereign power, and thus she does not lose
her peace.

And yet this security does not exclude the great fear she has of
offending God, and of removing everything which might prevent her from
serving Him: it even increases her fear and care. But so unmindful is
she of her own interest, that she seems in part to have lost her very
being, so forgetful is she of herself. In everything she looks to God's
glory, and how to accomplish His will the best, and glorify Him.

Besides what I have just mentioned, then again, as far as regards her
body and health, I think she takes more care of it, and is less
mortified in eating, neither has she such desires of doing penance, as
she used to have. But in her opinion, all tends to this object, viz., to
be able to serve God the more in other things; for she often offers
Him, as an agreeable sacrifice, this care she takes of the body: often
is she fatigued, and yet sometimes she tries herself in some
mortification; but in her opinion she cannot do this without injury to
her health; and the commands of her superiors are always before her.
Self-love no doubt insinuates itself in this, and in her desires also
about her health. But I think it would give me more pleasure, and I
received more, when I was able to endure great mortifications; because
if I suffered, then I was doing something and giving good example, and I
was not troubled with the thought that I was not serving God in
anything. Your Lordship well knows what is best to be done in this
respect.

The "Imaginary Visions"[25] have ceased,
but the intellectual vision of the three Persons and of the Humanity,
seems always to be present; this, in my opinion, much more sublime. Now I
seem to understand that the visions I have had came from God, because
they dispose the soul to the state in which she now is. And as she was
so weak and so miserable, God went on conducting her as He thought
necessary: I consider they are to be valued exceedingly, when they are
from God.

The "Internal Speeches" have not gone, for when there is any necessary,
our Lord gives me some advice: here in Palentia a great oversight would
have been committed, though not sinful, had it not been for such advice.

The "Acts and Desires" do not seem to have so much power in me as formerly, because though they are great, yet that
is so much greater which possesses me, viz., that the will of God may
be done, and whatever conduces most to His glory; and as the soul knows
well that His Majesty understands what is the most proper for this
object, and as she takes no pleasure in her own interest, these "acts
and desires" immediately cease, and I think have no power whatever.
Hence proceeds the fear I sometimes have (though not as I used to have
it, with pain and trouble), so that my soul is, as it were, stupefied,
and I seem to be doing nothing, because I cannot do any penance. Desires
of suffering and of martyrdom, and of seeing God, have no great power
over me and in general I cannot accomplish them. It seems as if I had
lived only to eat and to sleep, and to suffer no pain in anything; and
even this troubles me, except that sometimes (as I have said) I fear it
is a delusion; yet I cannot believe it, for as far as I can understand,
no attachment to any creature, nor to all the glory of heaven, reigns
with any power over me, except only to love my God. This is not
diminished, nay, rather, in my opinion it is increased, as well as the
desire that all should serve him.

Notwithstanding this, one thing astonishes me, viz., that now I feel so
little those excessive and interior sentiments that used to afflict me,
through beholding the loss of souls, and of thinking whether any offence
against God had been committed, although I think this desire that God
should not be offended is not lessened.

Your Lordship must observe, that I can do no more in whatever I either
now have, or that is past; nor is it in my power to serve more, if I
could, were I not so wicked; more I say, since if now I should
earnestly endeavour to desire to die, I could not desire such a thing,
nor perform the acts that I used to do; nor have I such sorrow for
offences against God, nor likewise those great fears I had for so many
years, when I thought I was deluded; hence, I now have no occasion to
consult the learned, or to tell anything to any one. I only wish to
satisfy myself whether I am going on well at present, and whether I can
do anything better. I have spoken on this matter with some whom I
consulted about other things, viz., Father Dominic (BaÃ±ez) and Maestro
Medina, and some belonging to the Society of Jesus. I am resolved to
agree to whatever your Lordship shall now say to me, on account of your
Lordship's great authority: weigh your words well, for the love of God. I
have lately been unable to know whether the souls of some relatives of
mine who have died have gone to heaven; but of others, I have not lost
the knowledge.

An interior peace, and the little strength which either pleasures or
displeasures have to remove this presence (during the time it lasts) of
the three Persons, and that without power to doubt of it, continue in
such a manner, that I clearly seem to experience what St. John says,
"That He will dwell in the soul," and this not only by grace, but that
He will also make her perceive this presence, which brings so many good
things as cannot be uttered, especially that there is no occasion to
seek considerations for knowing that God is in the soul. This is almost
general, except when she is oppressed by severe sickness: sometimes it
seems as if God wished her to suffer without any internal consolation;
but never, not even through any first motion, does this turn the will
from desiring that God's will should not be accomplished in her.
Her resignation to this will has such strength, that she desires neither
death nor life, except for a short time, when she desires to see God;
but the presence of these three Persons is immediately represented to
her with such power, and thereby her grief for being at a distance from
her Spouse is diminished, and a desire to live remains if such be His
will, in order to serve Him the more, and that she may be instrumental
in causing at least one soul to love Him the more, and praise Him
through her means; and though this should be only for a very short time,
she thinks it would be more profitable to her, than to enjoy eternal
glory.

Your Lordship's unworthy Servant and Daughter,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. VIII.To the Reverend Father Gonzalo de Avila, of the Society of Jesus.

This holy man was confessor to the Saint, and Rector of a College at
Avila. He seems to have asked her for some advice respecting his office.
Date 1578.

JESUS be with your Reverence.

It is a long time since I have been so mortified as I was to-day, with
the letter I received from your Reverence. I am not yet so humble as to
desire to be considered so proud, nor is your Reverence so anxious to
show your humility, so much to my cost. I never felt so much inclined to
tear your letter. I assure your Reverence, you know well how to mortify
me and make me understand what I am: does your Reverence imagine, then,
that I consider myself able to instruct others? God deliver me from
such a thought! I do not wish to think of such a thing. Now I perceive I
have committed a fault, though it may perhaps be out of a desire I have
to see your Reverence very good: and from such a weakness may proceed
the follies of my discourse with you, and also from the great respect I
have for you, which makes me speak with freedom, without considering
what I say. Afterwards, I had some scruple respecting certain things I
said to you; and if I were not afraid, too, of being disobedient, I
should not now comply with what your Reverence commands me, because I
find great reluctance in doing so. May God accept my submission. Amen.

One of the great defects which I have, is judging of myself in these
matters of prayer, and therefore your Reverence must not heed what I
shall say, because God may give you another talent, different
from that He gives to a weak woman like myself. Considering the favour
bestowed on me by our Lord, of having Him actually present to me; and
how, in addition to this I see, when many duties are to be performed by
me, that neither persecutions nor labours can disturb me as much as
these[26] do; if any business comes which
requires immediate despatch, I very commonly go to rest an hour or two,
or even later, after midnight, in order that my soul may not afterwards
be obliged to attend to any other thought save to Him only whom she
possesses thus present. This has been very injurious to my health, and
therefore it must be a temptation, though it seems to me the soul
remains more at liberty, like one who has on his hands some business of
great importance and urgency; and so he immediately settles anything
else, that it may not hinder him from attending to that which he
considers more necessary.

And so it is a great pleasure to me whenever I can leave anything to be
done by the sisters, though it might in some degree be done better by
myself; but should I not do it well, His Majesty supplies the
deficiency. The less attention I give to business, the more advanced I
find myself in my interior. Though I know this very clearly, yet I often
neglect using care to be released from business, and doubtless, I
receive some harm thereby. I see I might do more, and employ greater
diligence in this respect, and thus do myself greater good.

What I say, however, must not be understood of weighty affairs, which
cannot be neglected; and here perhaps, lies my mistake, for such are the
duties of your Reverence, and it would not be proper to leave them to
the management of another, in my opinion; but as I see your Reverence's
health is injured by them, I wish you could have less to do. I am,
however, excited to bless God, by seeing you take such an interest in
matters relating to the welfare of the house, for I am not so weak as
not to understand the great favour our Lord bestowed upon you in having
giving you such a talent, and the great merit which may be gained
thereby. It makes me somewhat envious, because I wish my superior also
to have the like. Since God has given your Reverence to me as such, I
wish you would take as much care of my soul as you do of the fountain. I
am much pleased with your account of it, for it is so necessary in the
monastery, that it deserves all your Reverence can do.

Nothing more remains for me to say. I assure you, I speak to you in all
truth and sincerity, as if I were speaking to God. I know what whatever
is done towards properly discharging the office of superior is so
pleasing to God, that He gives in a short time what He would give to
other superiors only after a long period. This I know as well by
experience, as by what I have been saying. But as I see your Reverence
is so exceedingly busy in general, what I have said to you came at once
into my mind, and the more I reflect upon it, the more (as I have said)
do I now see, that there is a difference between your Reverence and
myself. I will correct myself by not mentioning my first thoughts, since
it cost me so dear. Provided I can see you well, my temptation will
cease. May our Lord dispose everything as He can and as I desire.

Your Reverence's Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. IX. To the Most Illustrious Lord Don Teutonio de Braganza, afterwards Archbishop of Evora, at Salamanca.

The Saint gives this great prelate some excellent advice, thanks him for
some alms he had sent her, and recommends to him the establishment of a
new house of Carmelites. Date, 1574.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be ever with your Lordship.

I received very great pleasure on hearing of your safe arrival, and the
good state of your Lordship's health; but your letter seemed to me too
short for so long a journey and your Lordship does not tell me the
reason why you did not let me know if you succeeded in the affair on
which you went. It will be no new thing that your Lordship is not
satisfied with yourself; but wonder not if the labour of the journey,
which prevented you from having your hours regulated, has caused some
tepidity in your soul. But you will be yourself again, when you resume
your usual quiet. I have at present some little health, in comparison
with the severe sickness I have lately had; and if I should complain as
you do, you would consider your pains as nothing. The sickness I had
during two months was so violent, that I felt it even in my interior, so
as to make me think I had no existence. At present I am well as regards
the interior, but as to the exterior, I still suffer my usual
infirmities. I am treated well by the orders of your Lordship, and I
pray God to reward you for it. The people have shown great kindness to
me and some other religious, who have come very ill from Pastrana: the
sickness was occasioned by the dampness of their house. They are now
getting better; they are very devout souls, with whom your Lordship will
be much pleased to converse, but principally with the prioress.

I had before heard of the death of the king of France.[27]
I am grieved at the thought of seeing so many evils which follow from
it, and the souls which the devil will gain. I pray God to send a
remedy; at least, if our prayers can be of any assistance, we do not
forget to beseech His Majesty (in favour of them). I entreat Him to
reward you also for all your care, and the many favours you have
done our order. The father provincial (I mean the father visitor) is so
far off, that I cannot by a letter transact this business with him,
about which you spoke to me. It would be a good thing to build a house
here for our fathers, if the devil does not prevent it, for this reason.
The favour which you wish to do us will contribute not a little to this
establishment, together with the circumstance of the visitors being
confirmed without any limitation of time. I believe that for certain
reasons, they have been confirmed with greater authority than they had
formerly. They may now even found convents; so that I trust in our Lord
He will prosper this business. Do not abandon it, I beseech you. I
believe the father visitor will soon come near us; I will then write to
him. They assure me he will come here. Your Lordship will do me the
favour to speak to him, and tell him what you think of everything; you
may speak to him with perfect freedom, for he is a truly good man, and
he deserves to be treated in this candid way; and perhaps he may resolve
to finish the affair, in consideration of you. I beg of you not to
despair until you know what he intends doing. Mother prioress recommends
herself to your Lordship's prayers. All our nuns have ever been
careful, and are so still, to pray for you. Our sisters of Medina, and
every one who wishes to confer a favour on me, do the same.

Our Father Rector's bad health afflicts me much. I pray God it may be
better, and that He will bestow on you the grace and sanctity I desire
for you. Amen. Please to inform the Father Rector how anxious we are to
beg of our Lord to give him his health, and that I am well satisfied
with Father Santander. But it is quite otherwise with the religious who
are our neighbours; they have gone to law against us, because we have
bought a house which suited our purpose, and which is near to theirs. I
do not know how the matter will end.

Your Lordship's unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. X.To the Most Illustrious Lord Don Teutonio de Braganza, Archbishop of Evora.

Letter 2nd. The Saint congratulates this prelate on being made
archbishop, and gives him advice and encouragement. She also mentions
the different persecutions which she and her religious were suffering,
and the obstacles that were raised to prevent the reform of the Order,
&c. Date, 1578.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be ever with your illustrious Lordship. Amen.

It is now more than two months since I received a letter from your
Lordship. I should have answered it immediately, but the reason which
obliged me to defer the answer was, that I waited till I saw if some
calm would follow the great troubles which have agitated both our nuns
and fathers, ever since the month of August; I was also desirous of
giving your Lordship an account of all that passed, according to the
command you gave me in your letter. But matters are getting worse and
worse every day, as I shall inform your Lordship in the course of this
letter. The only thing I now wish for is to be able to converse with
your Lordship, as I cannot express in a letter the joy I felt by the
letter which the Father Rector sent me this week from your Lordship,
though it is more than three weeks since I learnt the news from yourself
with more certainty; since then I have been informed from another
quarter. I know not how your Lordship can imagine that such a thing can
be kept secret. May His Divine Majesty grant it may tend to His greater
honour and glory, and that it may be the means of making your Lordship
advance more and more in sanctity, as indeed I think it will.

Be assured, my Lord, that a matter which is so strongly recommended to
God, by souls who have no other object but that He may be served in
whatever they request, will not fail to be heard. As regards myself,
though I am so wicked, I do not forget to be very assiduous in praying
for your Lordship, and your servants[28] in
all our houses do the same; here I daily find such souls, the piety of
whom covers me with great confusion. It seems our Lord is pleased to
choose them from those parts, in order to bring them to these houses, in
which I know not who could have given them any knowledge of our
monasteries or mode of living.

Hence, my Lord, you must take courage, and doubt not for a moment it is
God's will. I have not the least doubt myself; nay, I am even sure that
this has been ordered by God, and that His Majesty wishes you should now
put in execution the good desires you have of serving Him. You have
remained unoccupied too long, and our Lord stands in need of a virtuous
prelate. As for us, we can do but little, being so poor and so
base, if God does not raise up some one to defend us, though we ask of
Him nothing else than His holy service; for malice is raised to such a
height, and ambition and vanity are so much encouraged,[29]
even by those who ought to tread them under feet, that it, seems our
Lord, powerful as He is, wishes to make use of His creatures in order to
maintain virtue, which without them would not be strong enough to gain
the victory; for those who should in reality be her defenders have
forsaken her; and thus our Lord has chosen other persons, who He knew
would be able to help Him.

I hope your Lordship will endeavour to employ yourself in this way, as I
think you will; I pray that His Majesty will give you health, strength,
and grace, that your Lordship may prosper in everything. The service we
shall do your Lordship will be, continually to pray to God for you,
that He may be pleased to give you a people desirous of the good of
souls, in whom you may place trust. I am greatly consoled at knowing
that the Society of Jesus takes so much interest in your Lordship's
affairs that you can employ the fathers in any way you think best, since
they are fit for everything.

I was very glad to hear how well the affair of the Marchioness of Elche
succeeded. I was in great trouble about it, till I heard of its happy
termination. God be praised for it. When our Lord sends us such a
multitude of troubles together, He usually makes them serve for our
greater good. As He knows we are exceedingly weak, and as He does all
things for our welfare, He proportions our sufferings to our strength. I
think the same will happen with regard to the storms raised up against
us some time since. But if I did not know that both our fathers and
sisters lived in the strict observance of their rule, I should sometimes
fear that their enemies would accomplish the object they have been
aiming at, viz., to ruin the commencement of the reform, which is
supported by the most Blessed Virgin. The devil has used such artifices
for this end, that it seems our Lord has given him leave to exert all
his power in the affair.

Indeed, the stratagems and diligence which have been made use of to
defame us, and especially Father Gracian and myself (I am the person
against whom all their blows are directed), are so numerous, and the
accusations against this good man have been so false, and the memorials
which were presented against him to the king, as well as against the
reform of the convents, were so scandalous, that to have seen
them your Lordship would have wondered how any one could have invented
such malice. But I am persuaded that we gained much by them, because the
nuns felt as much joy as if these calumnies did relate to them. The
virtue of Father Gracian has shone with such brightness under the trial,
that I am quite astonished. What a great treasure must not God have
hidden in that soul, for he prays especially for those who calumniate
him, and he bears their calumnies with as much joy as St. Jerome! He
cannot, however, endure the false charges which our enemies have brought
against the nuns. The visits which he has made amongst them for two
years have given him so great a knowledge of their piety, that he not
only considered them as angels in his own mind, but even called them so.

But God was at length pleased that these people should be forced to unsay
what they had charged us with. And as to what was said respecting
Father Gracian, the Court ordered an inquiry to be made, and evidence to
be brought forward, and thus the truth was discovered. They have also
retracted many other false charges, by which we have plainly seen how
many enemies we had at court, and also how great was the hatred by which
they were animated. Your Lordship may be assured, that it was by this
means the devil endeavoured to destroy all the good which is done by our
houses.

But not to dwell on all that has been done against the poor nuns of the
Monastery of the Incarnation, whose only crime was to have chosen me for
their prioress, I must tell your Lordship that the whole city was
astonished at what they have suffered, and do suffer still, and
are likely to suffer for some time; for I do not know how all will end.
The severity with which Father Tostado treated them was so
extraordinary, that once he kept them for more than fifty days without
allowing them to hear mass, or even see any one! This severity still
continues. Many people said that the nuns were excommunicated; but all
the theologians of Avila denied this, and with reason, because the
excommunication, which did not then effect me, had been published only
to prevent them from electing a stranger and they thought they could not
incur this excommunication by choosing me, because they did not
consider me a stranger, one who had been professed in their house, and
who had lived so many years in it. And who in reality could hinder me
now from returning there if I had a wish to do so? My dowry was paid to
that house; the convent is not in a separate province; and the prioress,
however has been chosen who had the less number of votes. The matter is
in the hands of the council, and I know not how it will end.

I was much grieved to see so many troubles raised on my account; such
great scandal given to the city, and so many souls filled with
affliction, for the number of those who had been excommunicated was not
less than fifty-four! The only consolation which was left me was the
thought, that I had used every effort to prevent the nuns from electing
me; and surely not without reason, for it would have been one of the
greatest troubles to me, I assure your Lordship, to have seen myself
there as prioress,â€“in a house, too, where I never had one hour's good
health all the time I lived in it.

But though I have compassion on those souls whose heroic perfection has
been made manifest, by the patience wherewith they have endured these
persecutions: yet the affliction I now suffer, on account of Father
Tostado having commanded, more than a month ago, two fathers who were
their confessors to be imprisoned, is much more painful. They are both
very perfect religious, and by their good example have edified the whole
city during the five years they have lived in it. They it was who kept
the house in the same state that I left it; and I can assure your
lordship that one of them, called Brother John of the Cross, is
considered by all to be a saint, and this opinion is not without a good
foundation; in my judgment he is a great treasure. This holy man and his
companion were sent to this monastery by the command of the apostolic
visitor, who belonged to the Order of St. Dominic, and also by the
present nuncio; they were also made subject to the Father Gracian, the
visitor.

I do not know how this affair will end. My great trouble is, that they
have been taken away without our knowing where they are. But we are
afraid they are closely confined, and this makes me fearful lest some
misfortune has happened. May our Lord send a remedy.

I hope your Lordship will pardon me if this letter is too long. I find a
pleasure in acquainting your Lordship with all that has happened, in
case Father Tostado should come into your neighbourhood. When the nuncio
came here, he favoured this father so much, that he commanded Father
Gracian not to make his visitation, though this command does not prevent
him from being apostolic commissary (because the nuncio did nothing to
make it appear he took away that power, nor was it, according to what he
himself said, his intention to take it from him). This good father went
to AlcalÃ¡, and after that to Pastrana, where he has lived in a grotto,
suffering a thousand persecutions, as I have before told your Lordship;
he does not exercise his power of apostolic commissary, for since that
time he has lived as if he had been in reality suspended.

He earnestly desires never to exercise his power of making a visitation,
and we desire it no less than he does, on account of the troubles which
happen to him and us, unless our Lord would do us the favour of making a
province for us in particular, it would not be for our good that he
should be visitor. When he arrived at AlcalÃ¡, he wrote me word that he
was resolved to obey Father Tostado, if he made the visitation, and he
told us to do the same. But as he has not yet come into this
neighbourhood, I believe our Lord will prevent his coming. All the
fathers, however, say, that it is he who does everything, and that he
employs all his power to be able to make the visitation. That it is, my
Lord, that afflicts us extremely, and is the cause of all the complaints
we now make to you. But I feel a great relief in giving your Lordship a
history of these proceedings. I know, however, you must be tired with
reading them; but your Lordship is not insensible to the obligation you
lie under of protecting this Order; and how necessary is it that your
Lordship should not only know the inconveniences attending a new
foundation, but those also which I shall now mention; these will make
another strange story.

As I cannot but make use of every possible means to prevent so good a
work from miscarrying (for even the most learned men who are my
confessors, do not advise me to the contrary), all our fathers are very
angry with me; and they have sent such representations to the Father
General, that it has been decreed in a general chapter, that by the
command of our Father General, no religious of the reform shall
henceforth leave their convent, and they have laid this command on me
in particular, under pain of excommunication: I am allowed, however, to
choose any convent I like to live in. It is very evident that this
decree has been made on purpose to prevent any more new foundations: it
is painful to see such a multitude of young women who beg to be received
into our monasteries, and yet they cannot be received because our
houses are so few, and we are forbidden to found any more.

Though the late nuncio ordered me to continue the foundations, and I
have very strong "letters patent" from the apostolic visitor;
nevertheless, since these disturbances have happened, I have resolved
not to establish any houses until our father general or the Pope
commands otherwise: for as this work has not been discontinued through
my fault, I consider the opposition made against it as a favour from
God, who thus frees me from a burthen, of which I already begin to be
tired. I do not, however, mean to say, that if I could render some
service to our Lord thereby, it would be a trouble to me: but what I say
is, it would be so painful for me not to see your Lordship any more,
that if it were but for this reason alone I was commanded to keep
enclosure, I should be quite inconsolable. But even though the general
chapter should put no obstacle in the way, I could not go, because the
leave I obtained from our father general extended only to the kingdom of
Castile, and hence it would be necessary to receive new letters patent.
I am certain our father general would not grant them now; but it would
be very easy to obtain them from the Pope, especially if his Holiness
could see the document drawn up by the command of Father Gracian: this
gives an account of our manner of living in these monasteries; of the
life we lead, and of the great good which the religious do wherever they
are established. It is said by persons of authority, that this
document, of itself, is sufficient to canonize us all! I have not yet
read it, because so many good things are said about myself. However, if
this foundation is to be made, I am very anxious that leave should be
obtained from our father general, with a request that we may be allowed
to establish houses in Spain: my presence would not be necessary, for
religious could easily be found very capable of doing this work, without
my leaving the convent: they should be sent there as soon as the house
was in a state to receive them. In order to gain this object, it would
be well to represent to him, that to hinder these foundations, would be
to deprive souls of a great good. If your Lordship is acquainted with
the protector of our Order, who, I am told, is nephew to the Pope, he
could easily persuade our general to give his consent. If your Lordship
would be so good as to interest yourself in the matter, you would confer
a great favour on our Order, and render considerable service to our
Lord.

Because I am desirous of telling your Lordship everything that happens,
it is necessary that I inform you of another difficulty, viz., that
Father Tostado has already been received as vicar general in this
province; hence you may judge what bad news this is, especially to me,
who may perhaps fall into his hands; and I have reason to fear he will
use all his power to prevent this undertaking. As regards Castile, we do
not believe, as far as we can judge at present, that he has made a
visitation there, because as he has exercised his duties without showing
his commission, especially when he visited our monastery of the
Incarnation (and this appeared very strange to every one), he was
ordered to show his letters patent to the council, by a royal decree:
after that he was unable to receive them back again, and I think he
never will. We have also letters of exemption given us by the visitors
apostolic, which certify that we cannot be visited, except by those whom
our father general shall nominate, and they must belong to the reform.
But as these commands cannot be observed where religious perfection has
fallen to the ground, I hope your Lordship will please to inform us how
this evil can be remedied, for your Lordship shall be sure to have good
religious to assist you in your undertakings.

Father Julian d'Avila (who, I believe, is already on the way) sends his
most humble respects to your Lordship. He is quite delighted to hear
the good news about your Lordship: he was, however, already acquainted
with it, when last I wrote to him. He is convinced that by your
Lordship's elevation, you will be able to render good service to God and
His church. Mary of St. Jerome, sub-prioress of this house,
respectfully congratulates your Lordship. She says, that to serve your
Lordship, she would willingly join the foundation, if such were the
Divine will. May our Lord direct everything as He pleases, for His own
greater glory. May he preserve your Lordship, and give you an increase
of His holy love.

It is no wonder your Lordship cannot enjoy that recollection which you
desire, on account of your new dignity. Our Lord will doubly repay you,
as He is accustomed to reward those who leave all things for His sake.
However, I wish your Lordship not to attend so much to exterior things,
without devoting at least some small portion of your time to interior
recollection; for in this consists our true interest.

I beg of you, for the love of our Lord, not to afflict me, by placing what you do on the address of the letters.[30]

Your Lordship's unworthy Servant and Subject,

TERESA DE JESUS.

From our House of St. Joseph's of Avila, the 16th day of January, 1578.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XI.To SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Cepeda y Ahumada, Brother to the Saint.

Letter 1st. The letters which St. Teresa wrote to her brother are very
interesting and instructive. The date of this is about 1561, and it
seems to be the first she had written to him for some time. He was then
living in the West Indies. She tells us in the "Book of the Foundations"
that he lived there for thirty-four years. When he sent her some money,
she was then engaged in founding the Convent of St. Joseph at Avila,
and was reduced almost to the last farthing. But God came to her
assistance.

JESUS. May the Holy Ghost ever dwell in your heart, and reward you for
the care you have had in coming so quickly to our relief. I trust in God
you will gain great merit by so charitable an act, for it is certain
you bestow your charities just when they are wanted; and all those to
whom you sent the money stood so much in need of it, that it has been a
great consolation to me. As for a poor nun like myself, who considers it
an honour to wear a patched habit, I believe God inspired you to send
me so great a sum. What I received from Juan Pedro de Espinosa and
Varron (for such I think was the name of the other merchant)â€“was quite
enough for my necessities for a long time.

As I informed you a long time ago, I have spent the money in a matter I
could not help undertaking, for several reasons, but chiefly for this,
because God had given so many strong inspirations to commence the work. I
dare not trust things of this nature in a letter; I can only tell you
that learned and holy people assure me I ought not to be timid, but that
I must do all I possibly can for this undertaking, viz. to found a
monastery,[31] in which there are to be
thirteen religious, and no more, she will be bound to live in strict
enclosure, and can never therefore go out. They will never be able to
see any one, except with their veil down; their chief duty being to
devote themselves to prayer and mortification, as I have told you before
at greater length: I will give you more information when Antonio Moran
departs.

Madame Guiomar,[32] who writes this letter
for you, is of great service to me. She is the widow of Francis d'Avila,
who belonged to the family of Solralejo; I don't know if you remember
this family. It is nine years since her husband died; he was a very rich
man; she now enjoys his property, besides the money she has inherited
from her own family. Although she was left a widow at the age of
twenty-five; yet she refused to marry again, and has given herself
entirely to God. She is a very pious person. It is now more than four
years since we have contracted so close a friendship, that I love her as
if she were my own sister. But though she assisted me in the
"Foundation," by giving me a good part of her income, she cannot now
relieve me, because just at present she has no money. With regard to the
purchase of the house, I must do this with ready money, by the Divine
assistance. I have already received (though the monastery has not yet
begun) the dowry of two young ladies. By the help of this money, I have
secretly purchased the house, though I have not money enough to remodel
it for a convent. But I have great confidence in God's assistance,
knowing that it is His will the thing should be done. I had engaged the
workman, though it may have seemed very foolish to do so. But His
Majesty took care of us all, and moved you to come to our assistance.
What surprises me the more is, that I was just in want of the forty
crowns which you sent. I think that St. Joseph (who is to be the patron
of the house) has assisted me by your means: I am sure he will repay
you, though the monastery is very poor and small; it has a good
prospect, and I think we shall have room enough.

Some of the fathers have gone to Rome for the Bulls; for though the
house will belong to the Order we shall be under obedience to the
bishop. I trust in our Lord, that all things will prosper for His
greater glory, if we should accomplish the undertaking (as I think we
certainly shall), because those who are to enter the house are chosen
souls, capable of being very great examples of humility, penance, and
prayer. I beg of you to recommend the matter to God. I hope, by the help
of His Grace, everything will be finished before Antonio Moran goes
away. He came here, and I received great comfort from seeing him: he
seems to be a man one can depend upon, and to possess good judgment. He
gave me every particular about you. I think that the greatest favour our
Lord could bestow on me was to make me understand from what he told me,
that you were convinced of the vanity of the world, and had made a
resolution to retire from it altogether, and live in repose and quiet.
If you do so, I think you will be walking in the road to heaven. This
was what I wanted most to know, for till then I had been rather uneasy.
Glory be to him who doth all things. May He give you grace to advance
more and more in His service; for since the reward will be without
bounds, we ought not to make any delay in endeavouring to serve our
Lord, but daily advance (however little this may be) with such fervour,
that it may appear we are always at war, until we gain the victory: we
must not rest, nor be negligent till then.

All those with whom you sent the money for me have been honest men, but
Antonio Moran has excelled them all, both in selling the gold at a
greater price and without any expense, and also in having taken the
trouble to come here from Madrid to bring it, to the prejudice of his
healthâ€“for he was very unwell on the journey, though he is now better. I
see that he is truly and sincerely attached to you. He has with great
care brought Varron's money also. Roderigo came with him too, and has
likewise acquitted himself well of his commission. I will give him a
letter for you, if he should depart before Moran, who has shown me the
letter you wrote to him. You may be assured, that the great care you
have taken in assisting me, is to my mind not only the effect of your
goodness, but must have been inspired by God himself.

My sister Mary[33] sent me this letter
yesterday to be forwarded to you. She tells me she will write to you
again as soon as she has received the rest of the money you sent her.
She received the first sum in good time. She is a very good woman, but
full of troubles. Should Juan de Ovalle go to law against her, her
children will be ruined. The matter, however, is not so great as one
would imagine, though it was certainly wrong to sell the property and
destroy it. Martin de Guzman, however, has his reasons, and God forgive
him: the Court has decided in his favour, against all right. I cannot
endure, that what my father sold (God rest his soul), should now be
demanded back again. My sister Mary would come very badly off if they
resumed the lawsuit. God preserve me from such interest, which pays no
regard to relationship. But such a thing is so common in this country,
that it would be a wonder to see a father and son, or brother and
brother, agree together; hence, I do not wonder at the conduct of Juan
de Ovalle; I rather think he has acted tolerably well, seeing that for
my sake he did not go on with the lawsuit. He has a good heart, but in
this case he is not to be trusted; and therefore, when you send him the
thousand reals you must make him sign a deed, by which he will be
obliged, when he receives the said sum, to give five hundred ducats to
my sister Mary on the day when he shall first recommence the lawsuit.

The houses of Juan de Centura are not yet sold, but Martin de Guzman has already received three hundred thousand maravedÃ©s[34]
for them, which sum it is only proper should be given to Juan de
Ovalle; and if you would send him the thousand crowns, he would then be
able to live here, for just now he is in great want of them; but should
the money not come, he will have no means of coming here, and his
affairs will not be arranged for a long time.

My sister Jane[35] has married well. I
assure you she is a very good woman, and very generous; she has the soul
of an angel, thanks be to God. I am the worst of all, whom you would
hardly know to be your sister, because I have degenerated so much. I
know not why people love me to such a degree; this I say in all
sincerity. My sister has had many troubles, but she has borne them with
great patience. If you can send her anything without injury to yourself,
do so as soon as possible, even though it be little at a time.

You will see by this letter that the money has been delivered as you
ordered. Toribia and her husband are dead; and we distributed the money
among their children, who are poor: this has given them great
assistance. We have had all the masses said which you wished; I even
think some had been said before the money came. They were offered for
the good intentions you named, which pleased me much, and edified me
too. I sought out the best priest I could to say them. In the midst of
all this business, I am stopping at the house of Madame Guiomar: I found
great comfort in being among persons who so frequently spoke of you. I
will tell you the occasion which procured me this happiness. As a
daughter of this lady's, who is a nun in our monastery of the
Incarnation, was allowed to go and see her mother, the provincial
ordered me to accompany her. Here I enjoy more liberty in everything I
wish, than I did when I was at my sister's house, because we speak of
nothing but God, and are very recollected. I shall stay here till the
father provincial shall order me elsewhere. I wish he would allow me to
stop for some time, for here I am better able to manage the business I
spoke to you about.

But let us now speak of my dear sister Jane:[36]
though I name her last, she does not hold the last place in my heart,
for I assure you I pray to God for her with as much affection as I do
for you, and I love her as much as yourself. I thank her a
thousand times for the favour she has done me. All I can do for her is
often to recommend her and her little boy to God. I have recommended him
particularly to that holy friar Peter of Alcantara, who promised to
pray for him: he is that religious of whom I spoke to you before. I have
also requested the Theatin[37] fathers,
and several others, to pray for him, and whose prayers I hope God will
hear. May His Majesty be pleased to make him better than his parents: I
do not mean that you are not good, but I wish him to be something more.
Pray always inform me of the love and contentment in which you both
live, for I receive great pleasure therefrom.

I have already told you that I will send you a copy of the "Executory
Letters," which people tell me cannot be better. I will take every care
that you shall receive them by Antonio Moran. But if by any misfortune
they should be lost, or anything happen to him, so that he could not
deliver them, I will send you some others, till I hear you have received
them safe into your own hands. If they have not been sent sooner, it is
owing to the caprice of an individual whose name I do not wish to
mention. You will also receive some relics which I send you; they are
enclosed in a case, which has not cost much. I thank my sister a
thousand times for the beautiful image she has given me. Had I received
it at the time I wore gold, I should very likely have kept it, for it is
exceedingly pretty. I beg of God to keep you both in health for many
years. This wish comes in at the right time, for to-morrow is the eve of
the year 1562.

Having been so long engaged with Antonio Moran, I was obliged to
commence writing when it was very late: had not this been the case, I
should have written a longer letter. But as he intends setting off
to-morrow, I will keep the rest of the news till my brother GerÃ³nimo de
Cepeda goes away, when I will send a letter by him. But it is no matter,
that I have written in such haste. Always read my letters. I have taken
great care that the ink should be good. I have, however, written this
letter in such a hurry, and so late, as I have told you, that I had no
time to read it over. My health is better than it used to be. I pray God
to grant you such health of soul and body, as I desire you may have.
Amen. I have not time now to write to SeÃ±or Hernanda Ahumada, nor to
Pedro de Ahumada; but I soon will. I wish to tell you that some persons
who wish me well, and who know the particulars of my undertaking,
consider it a miracle, that you sent the money just when I wanted it. I
hope in God that when I want any more, He will move your heart to assist
me, even should you be unwilling yourself.

Your very loving Sister,

DOÃ‘A TERESA DE AHUMADA.[38]

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XII.To SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother to the Saint.

Letter 2nd. The date of this letter is about the year 1577. It is not
the second letter in chronological order. It was written from Toledo.

JESUS be with you.

Serna[39] gives me so little time, that I cannot write so long a letter as I could wish; and yet, when I am writing to you,
I know not how to finish: but as Serna is not always at hand, he must
give me a little more time. When I write to Francis, I beg you would
never read his letters, for I fear he is somewhat inclined to
melancholy, and he feels a difficulty in telling me of it. Perhaps God
gives him these scruples in order to deliver him from other dangers. I
hope, however, to give him a remedy, and I find he is well disposed to
receive it, for he believes all I tell him.

I am quite certain I sent the manuscript, though I did wrong in not
telling you of it beforehand. I had given it to one of our sisters to
transcribe it, and when I wanted it she could not find it. There is no
means of your having another, till we send to Seville for a copy.

I believe I sent another letter to you by the way of Madrid; however, in
case it should be lost, I must repeat in this letter what I said in
that, though I dislike being troubled with this affair. I must tell you
then, in the first place, that the house of Hernan Alverez de
Peraltaâ€“where you lodgeâ€“has a room in a bad condition, and it is likely
to be dangerous; so take care! In the second place, I beg you would send
me the little box with all the papers that belong to me: they were put
together in bundles, as far as I can recollect: take care the box be
sewed up well. If Madame Quiteria should give the packet to Serna, the
messenger, she may put it in the box, and then it will come safe. Tell
her to send it. Do not forget also to put in my seal, for I do not like to seal my letters with a figure of death; rather I wish to seal them with a figure of Him[40]
who I earnestly wish was engraven on my heart, as it was on the heart
of St. Ignatius. Let no one open the box but yourself (for I believe the
paper on prayer is in it); take care if you see anything else there not
to mention it to any one, for I do not give you leave, neither is it
proper I should; and although you might think you were thus doing a
service to God, yet there are several reasons which ought to oblige you
to keep it secret; and this must be sufficient for you. If I thought you
said anything to any one, I should take good care not to let you know
anything for the future.

The nuncio has requested me to send him a copy of the "letters patent"
which I use in founding our houses. He wants to know how many there are
already founded, and in what places. He also desires me to send him the
number of religious, whence they have come, their age, and how many of
them can be prioresses. All these papers are in the box: indeed, I must
have everything in it. People tell me, that the nuncio wishes to know
all these things, in order to make a new province. But I am afraid he is
desirous our religious should go and reform other convents, as he often
wished to have done before; this, however, should not be for our good. I
beg you will acquaint the sub-prioress with the nuncio's wish, and tell
her to send me the names of all those who have made their profession in
the house, also the age of all those who are there now, and the year of
their reception and profession. She must write all this in a book, and
sign her name at the end.

But now I remember, I am prioress of that house[41]
myself: as I can sign the paper myself, it is unnecessary for her to do
it; she need only tell me what I have already mentioned; and it does
not signify whether the writing is in her own hand or not, for I must
copy it. It is unnecessary for the sisters to know anything of the
matter. Be sure you send me everything, and take care the papers do not
get wet. Don't forget to send the key.

The book I spoke to you about is the "Meditations on the Lord's Prayer."[42]
There you will find many things proper to direct you in the prayer you
make use of, though not at such length as in the other work. I think
what I say you will find in the petition, "Thy kingdom come." Read it
over again, at least the Lord's Prayer; perhaps you will find something
that will satisfy you.

Before I forget, how came you to make such a promise,[43]
without telling me about it? A fine obedience this! Your resolution has
given me some uneasiness, though it has somewhat pleased me; but it
seems to me dangerous. Take advice about the matter, because from a
venial sin it might become a mortal one, by your having made such a
promise. I will likewise ask my confessor about it, for he is a very
learned man. Your promise seems to me foolish, because what I promised
was with other additions; but this I should certainly not have presumed
to promise, for I think even the Apostles fell into venial sins. Our
Lady alone was preserved from them. I really believe that God will
accept your intention; yet I think it would be much better to change
your promise into something else: this may be done by getting a
dispensation, if you should not have one already. Do it speedily: the
jubilee will be just the time. It is so easy to fall into venial sin,
that without our observing it we may commit it. God deliver us from it;
but I trust He will not impute this to our fault. He knows well our
nature. In my opinion, it is necessary to apply a remedy immediately,
and that no promise of this nature be made by you for the future, for it
is dangerous to do so. You might sometimes, without any inconvenience,
speak on the subject of your prayer with your confessors, who are near
at hand; they can give you the best advice on everything, and nothing is
lost.

Do not be troubled about your having purchased the farm at Serna;[44]
it is a temptation from the devil, who tries to prevent you from being
grateful to God for having thereby bestowed a very great favour upon
you. Be assured that what you have done is for the best in many
respects, for you have provided for your children something better than
an estate, viz., honour. Every one who hears of it considers it a great
happiness. Do you imagine that in collecting rents there is no trouble?
None in continually sending executions?[45]
Consider this to be a temptation. Do not fall into it again; but rather
praise God for having given you the farm. Do not think that when you
have a great deal of time you must apply more to prayer. This is a
mistake: for time well spent in providing a maintenance for our children
does not exclude prayer. In one instant, God often gives more than He
does in a long period, for His works are not confined to times and
seasons.

After the holydays are over, get some one immediately to examine your
deeds, and put them in the order they ought to be. What you have spent
on Serna is well spent, and when summer comes you will feel great
delight in sometimes going there. Jacob did not cease to be a saint for
minding his flocks; nor Abraham, nor St. Joachim: when we try to fly
from trouble everything wearies us: so it does me, and therefore God is
pleased that I should have business enough to occupy me. On these
matters speak with Francisco Salcedo,[46] for in these temporal matters I give him my place.

It is a great favour from God, that what gives rest to others tires you.
But you must not on this account give up your business; for we must
serve God not as we wish, but as He wishes. Certain profits may, I
think, be excused, and therefore I am glad in some degree that you
leave this kind of gains to God, for in these worldly matters we must be
content to lose something, than to be too liberal in giving;â€“seeing God
has given you enough to live on, you can give something to those who
are in want, though not too much. I do not call that trafficking which
you intend to do at Serna, for it is very proper; but I mean other ways
of gain. But I have already told you to follow the opinion of Francisco
Salcedo in all these matters, and then you will not be troubled with
these scruples. Always remember me most kindly to him, and every one
else you think proper. I wish I had time to write to Pedro de Ahumada,
in order to get a letter from him, for I enjoy his letters exceedingly.

Tell Teresa[47] she need not fear I should
have more love for another than I have for her. Let her distribute the
pictures, but not meddle with that which I intend for myself; tell her
to give some of them to her brothers. I have a great desire to see her.
What you wrote to me about at Seville caused great devotion in me. I
received some of your letters here, and our sisters were much pleased on
hearing them read in recreation-time; I also was pleased, for I imagine
you would rather cease to live than not to be good-humored; but as you
are with holy persons, everything is proper. I believe our sisters here
are holy too: every moment they make me blush.

Yesterday we celebrated the great Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus. God
reward you for your presents. I know not what to send you for the many
favours you bestow upon me, except these verses,[48]
which I have composed by the command of my confessor in order to amuse
the nuns. For several evenings I have been with them, and I knew not how
to divert them except by these verses. They might have a pleasant air,
if little Frank knew how to sing them. Have I not greatly improved?
Notwithstanding, our Lord has bestowed great favours on me during these
days.

The favours you have received astonish me. May He be blessed for ever. I
know it is a good thing to desire devotion as you do. But it is one
thing to desire, and another to ask it. But I believe it is the
best to leave, as you do, all things in the will of God, and to commit
your cause into His hands. He knows what is best for us. But always
endeavour to walk along the way I have marked out for you: remember that
it is of more consequence than you imagine.

It will not be amiss, when you sometimes awake with these holy
affections, to sit up a little in your bed, provided, however, you
always take the repose necessary for your head; otherwise, though you
may not perceive it, you will at last be unable to make use of prayer.
Take care not to expose yourself too much to cold, for it does not suit
your colic. I know not why you desire these terrors and fears, since God
conducts you by the way of love. Once those were necessary. Think not
it is always the devil that tries to prevent us from praying, it is a
mercy of God that sometimes we are prevented from using prayer; nay, I
will even say that this is almost as great a favour as when He gives us
much prayer: there are many reasons in proof of this, but now I have no
time to mention them. The prayer God gives you is without comparison
much higher than thinking on hell. It does not depend upon you to give
the preference to one or the other: you cannot help following that which
God gives you, because such is His will.

The answers[49] of some of our sisters made
me laugh. Others are extraordinary, and they have given me some light
about the meaning of the words; for do not think that I understand them.
I only mentioned the circumstance casually to you: I will tell you my
opinion on the subject, please God, when I see you. The answer of
Francisco de Salcedo pleased me much. His humility is very admirable,
for God conducts him in such a manner by fear, that perhaps he did not
like to speak of such things in the same way as we do. We must
accommodate ourselves to souls as we find them. I tell you he is a
saint; but God does not guide him in the same way He does you. In a
word, He conducts him as a strong man, but us as weak souls. He answered
well for one of his disposition.

I have read your letter over again. I do not mean you should rise in the
night, but only sit up in your bed. This seems to me sufficient, since
it is important to be able to take your rest. On no account then rise,
though you may feel great fervour; and if you sleep more, do not make
yourself uneasy on that account. If you should hear what Father Peter of
Alcantara used to say on this point,[50] let it not terrify you, even though this fervour come upon you when you remain awake.

Your letters do not tire me, but comfort me exceedingly; and so I should
feel great pleasure in writing to you oftener, but I cannot do so, as
my afflictions are so troublesome; even this very night I have been
prevented from attending to prayer. This gives me no scruples; still it
is a misery to have no leisure. May God send us some, that we may always
spend it in His service. Amen.

This is a dreadful place[51] for those who
do not eat meat, and yet I was thinking that I have not been in such
good health for these many years, as I am now. I observe what all the
others do, and this is a great comfort to me.

This is the 2nd of January.

Your unworthy Servant and Sister,

TERESA DE JESUS.

P.S.â€“I thought you would have sent us some of
your verses; as for mine, they have neither head nor feet, and yet the
nuns sing them. I now remember some which I once composed, when I was
absorbed in prayer. They seemed to give a sweet repose to me after I had
composed them. They were (I know not whether exactly) as follows; hence
you see I am desirous of giving you some recreation:â€“

1.

O hermosura que excedeis,

A todas las hermosuras!

Sin herir, dolor haceis;

Y sin dolor, deshaceis

Con amor de las creaturas.

2.

O Ã±udo, que ansi juntais

Dos cosas tan desiguales!

No sÃ© porque os desatais:

Pues atado, fuerza dais

A tener por bien los males.

3.

Quien no tiene sÃ©r, juntais

Con el sÃ©r que no se acaba:

Sin acabar, acabais;

Sin tener que amar, amais:

Engrandeceis nuestra nada.[52]

I do not remember any more. O! the wit of a foundress! I tell you I must
have been very clever when I made these lines! God forgive you, for it
is you who made me spend my time; and yet these stanzas may soften your
heart and excite some devotion in it. Do not speak of them to any one.
Madame Guiomar and myself were together at the time; give my kind
regards to her.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XIII.To the Most Illustrious Lord Don Alonso Valasquez, Bishop of Osma.

The Saint teaches this great prelate a method of prayer. Palafox says,
"that he considers this letter to be the most spiritual of all the
Saint's letters, as well as the most important for every one, especially
for bishops." Date, 1581. Carta VIII. Spanish ed. vol. i.[53]

JESUS. Most Reverend Father of my Soul.

One of the greatest favours for which I feel myself indebted to our Lord
is, that His Majesty has given me a desire to be obedient, for in this
virtue I experience great pleasure and consolation, being a duty which
our Lord has recommended to us more than any other.

Your Lordship commanded me the other day, to recommend you to God: I am
careful in doing so, and your Lordship's command has increased this
solicitude. I have done so, not considering my own littleness, but
because it is a matter imposed on me by you; and with this belief I
trust in the goodness of your Lordship, that you will receive with a
willing mind what I may think proper to represent to your Lordship:
accept my will, since it proceeds from obedience.

Representing, then, to our Lord the favours which He has shown you
(which I know), in having bestowed upon you humility, charity, and a
seal for souls, and for the Divine honour; and being aware also of this
your desire, I asked our Lord for an increase of all virtues and
perfections, that so you might become as perfect as the dignity
requires, in which our Lord has placed you. It was made known to me,
that your Lordship failed in what was principally required for these
virtues; and being wanting in the most important, which is the
foundation, the building soon falls, because it is not firm. You are
deficient in prayer, with a burning lamp, which is the light of faith,
and in perseverance in prayer with courage: thus you break the bond of
union which is the unction of the Holy Spirit, and through want of this
arises all that dryness and disunion which the soul experiences.

It is necessary to bear patiently the importunity of a multitude of
thoughts and imaginations, and the violence of natural motions, both as
well in the soul by the dryness and disunion she feels, as in the body,
for want of that subjection which it ought to yield to the spirit. And
though we may think these are no imperfections in us, yet when God opens
the eyes of the soul, as He is accustomed to do in prayer, these
imperfections then clearly appear.

That which was shown me respecting the order your Lordship is to observe
in prayer, is this. First, make the sign of the cross; accuse yourself
of all the faults committed since your last confession; strip yourself
of all things, as if you were to die that hour; have a true sorrow for
your sins, and recite the psalm "Miserere," as a penance for them. After
this you may say, "I come to Thee, O Lord! to learn in Thy school, and
not to teach. I will speak with thy Majesty, though I am dust and ashes,
and a miserable worm of the earth." Offer yourself at the same time to
God, as a perpetual sacrifice and holocaust, representing before the
eyes of your understanding Jesus Christ crucified, on whom with
tranquillity and affection of soul, ponder and consider part by part.

Consider, in the first place, the divine nature of the Eternal Word, of
the Father united with the human nature, which of itself had no being
till God gave it one. Consider also the ineffable love and profound
humility with which God annihilated Himself, man becoming God, and God
becoming man. Consider that magnificence and bounty with which He
exercised His power, by manifesting Himself to men, and making them
partakers of His glory, His power, and His greatness.

And if this consideration shall excite in your soul the admiration it is
accustomed to produce, dwell upon it, and contemplate a sublimity so
low, and a lowliness so sublime.

Behold His head crowned with thorns, and then consider the dulness and
blindness of our understanding. Beg of our Lord that He would be pleased
to open the eyes of the soul, and enlighten our understanding with the
light of faith, that so we may with humility learn who God is, and what
we are; and that by this humble knowledge, we may be able to observe His
commandments and counsels, and do in all things His will. Behold also
His hands nailed, and consider His liberality and our poverty, by
comparing His gifts with ours.

View His feet nailed, considering the diligence with which He seeks us,
and the sloth with which we endeavour to seek Him. Cast your eyes on
that side opened with a lance, which shows us His heart, and the intense
love wherewith He hath loved us, when He was pleased to become our
harbour and refuge, that so by this gate we might enter the ark, when
the deluge of our temptations and tribulations shall come. Beg of Him,
that as He was pleased to have His side opened in testimony of the love
He bore us, so He would command ours also to be opened, that we might make our necessities known, and obtain a remedy for them.

Your Lordship should approach to prayer with submission and humility,
and a readiness to walk along the path by which God may conduct you,
relying with security on His Majesty. Listen attentively to the lessons
He shall read to you. Sometimes He turns away from you, and at other
times He comes before you, either by shutting the gate and leaving you
outside, or taking you by the hand, and leading you into His chamber.
Everything should be received with an equality of mind: and when He
shall reprove you, you must acknowledge His right and just judgment by
humbling yourself.

When again He shall console you, you should consider yourself unworthy
of consolation, and rather esteem His bounty whose nature it is to
manifest itself to men, and to make them partakers of His power and
goodness. A great injury is done to God by doubting of His liberality in
conferring favours, since He is desirous it should shine forth more
brightly in manifesting His omnipotence, than in showing the power of
His justice. And if to deny His power in revenging the injuries
committed against Him, would be a great blasphemy, it would be worse to
deny it in that wherein He is most desirous of manifesting
itâ€“viz., in bestowing favours. But if we are not willing to subject our
understanding, it is certain that we wish to teach God in prayer, rather
than be taught by Him, which is the object and design of prayer;
whereas to do the former, would be to go against this object. In
acknowledging yourself to be dust and ashes, your Lordship should notice
the qualities of dust and ashes, which of their own nature incline to
the earth. But when the wind raises the dust, it would be against its
own nature not to rise: and when raised, it ascends as high as
the wind carries and sustains it; but when the wind ceases, the dust
falls to its place. Just so is it with the soul, which being like the
dust and ashes, necessarily has the qualities of that to which it is
compared. Hence in prayer, the soul must rest in the knowledge of
herself; and when the sweet breathing of the Holy Spirit shall lift her
up, and place her in the heart of God, and there sustain her,
discovering to her His goodness, and manifesting His power, then let her
learn with thanksgiving to enjoy such a favour, since He admits her to
His very interior, and presses her to His breast as a favoured spouse,
in whom He Himself, as her spouse, takes delight.

It would be great rudeness and incivility for the spouse of a King (who
chose her from a mean family), not to make her appearance in His palace
on the day he wished her to do so, as Queen Vashti did: this made the
King angry, as the Scripture mentions. Now our Lord is accustomed to be
angry with those souls who shun His presence, His Majesty having
declared, "that His delight is to be with the children of men."
(Proverbs viii. 31.) Hence if all men shunned Him, they would deprive
God of His delight, according to the words above,â€“even though this
should be done under the plea of humility, which however, would be an
indiscretion, and bad manners and a kind of contempt, in not receiving
from His hand what He gives us. It would also be a want of judgment in
one who, standing in need of something for the support of his life,
refuses to have it when it is given him.

I said likewise, that we must be like a worm of the earth. Its nature
is, to have its breast low on the ground, subject to its Creator and to
all men, so that though people tread on it, or the birds peck at it, it
does not lift itself up. By treading on it is meant, when at the time
of prayer the flesh rebels against the spirit, and with a thousand kind
of delusions and deceits representsâ€“that it will do more good in other
employments, such as relieving the necessities of our neighbour,
studying in order to preach, and to govern those who are intrusted to
us. To these suggestions I may answer, that one's own necessity is the
first and the greatest obligation, and that perfect charity begins from
oneself. Remember also, that a pastor, in order to discharge his office
well, ought to take his standing in the highest placeâ€“whence he may view
all his flock, and see if any wild beasts attack it: now this high
place is prayer.

I spoke moreover of a worm of the earth, because though the fowls of
heaven peck at it, it does not stir from the earth, nor lose the
obedience and subjection it owes to its Creatorâ€“of remaining in the same
place He put it. A man must also firmly keep the post God has given
him, which is that of prayer, though the fowlsâ€“that is, the devilsâ€“may
peck at him, and molest him with vain thoughts and imaginations, which
at that moment the devil brings in, carrying away our thoughts, and
scattering them here and there, while the heart goes after them. To bear
patiently these troubles and temptations, is no small advantage of
prayer. This is to offer oneself as a holocaust, by consuming the whole
sacrifice in the fire of temptation, without allowing anything to
escape.

To remain in prayer without obtaining any advantage is not lost time,
but a season of great gain, because then we labour without interest, and
only for the glory of God. And though at first it may seem as if we
laboured in vain, it is not so; but it is like what happens to sons who
work on their father's estate, and who, though at night they receive not
wages for the day's work, yet at the end of the year they receive
everything.

This is very like the prayer in the Garden, in which our Lord Jesus
Christ requestedâ€“that the bitterness and difficulty He experienced in
overcoming His human nature might be removed. He did not ask that His
pains might be removed, but only the dislike with which He suffered
them; and what He asked for the inferior part of man was, that the
strength of the Spirit might be given to the flesh, that so its weakness
might be strengthened. He was told that it was not expedient, but that
He must drink the chaliceâ€“that is, overcome the cowardice and weakness
of the flesh. And so we may understand that as He was truly God, so He
was truly man, since even He felt those pains which other men did.

He that approaches to prayer, must needs be a man of labour, and must
never grow weary during all the summer and fine weather, in providing
provisions (like the ant) for the winter and the floods, that so he may
not perish with hunger as other animals do, who are unprovided: he must
look forward to the dreadful deluge of death and judgment.

In going to prayer, we should put on a wedding garmentâ€“that is, of rest,
not of labour; and for such festal days, every one endeavours to
procure costly garments; and to honour the feast, every one is
accustomed to incur great expense; and they think all well bestowed when
the feast goes off as well as they wished. One cannot be a learned man
nor a courtier, without great expense and labour. Now to become a
courtier of heaven, and to possess spiritual knowledge, cannot be
effected without spending some time, and enduring some affliction of
spirit.

I cannot now say any more to your Lordship; and I beg your pardon for
the presumption I have used, in representing these truths to you. But
however full this letter may be of defects and indiscretions, I am not
wanting in the zeal I owe to you, as a loving servant of your Lordship,
to whose holy prayers I commend myself. May our Lord preserve your
Lordship, and enrich you with a manifold increase of His Grace. Amen.

Your Lordship's unworthy Servant and Subject,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XIV.To the Most Illustrious Lord Don Alvaro de Mendoza, Bishop of Avila, at Olmedo.

This holy prelate was afterwards bishop of Palencia. He was ennobled
both by the lustre of his merits, as well as by the splendour of his
birth. He protected and encouraged the Saint in her "Foundations of St.
Joseph's Convent." Date, 1577. Carta V. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be with your Lordship. Amen.

I have now recovered from the sickness which I had, though I am still
troubled with the headache, which torments me almost continually with
its noise. But provided I know your Lordship is well, I am quite willing
to suffer still greater pain. I thank you a thousand times for the
favour you did me in writing to me: your letters are a great comfort to
us. The nuns came and showed them to me, and they feel, with great
reason, highly flattered by them.

Could your Lordship see how much we stood in need of a visitation from a
man who could properly explain the constitutions, and who knew what
they were from having observed them himself, I believe you would have
experienced a particular satisfaction; and at the same time your
Lordship would have understood how great the favour was which our Lord
bestowed upon this house in not having placed it under the jurisdiction
of one who could not discover whence the devil could enter, nor even by
what means he began to enter.[54] This,
indeed, was no one's fault: it happened with the best intentions. I am
truly grateful to God for His goodness. As to what your Lordship says
about the difficulties we might be exposed to when a bishop does not
take any interest in our affairs, you must not trouble yourself about
this; for our monasteries will be the better able to help one another,
since they cannot receive assistance from one who has not such love for
us as your Lordship has. What afflicts us is, that we cannot enjoy your
presence here: as to the rest, no change whatever has been made in us,
we are as submissive to your orders as heretofore. You may always count
on the obedience of our superiors, and especially of Father Gracianâ€“to
whom, it seems, we have communicated the same affection which we
ourselves have for your Lordship. As he is not here, I shall send him
your letter to-day. He has gone to AlcalÃ¡, in order to forward
despatches by some religious who are going to Rome. All our sisters are
much pleased with him, and with reason, for he is a zealous servant of
God, and is of great assistance to us, since we see that in all things
he follows the commands of your Lordship.

As to the Lady your Lordship speaks of, I will attend to your orders
when an opportunity offers; for the person who has already spoken to me
is not accustomed to come to this house: from what I could understand,
it is not anything about marriage. But after I read your letter, I had
some doubts about the matter, and thought the person wished to put some
obstacles in the way. I cannot, however, believe that she really takes
any interest in the affair, but she seems rather to be influenced by a
zeal for the public good and for God's honour. May His Majesty direct
matters as He thinks best: but the affair has gone so far, that we may
be obliged to write to your Lordship about it, even should you have no
desire to know the particulars. It gives me great comfort to hear your
Lordship is so resigned, that you feel no trouble about the matter. But
consider, if it would not be proper to acquaint the abbess with the
business, in order to show you are angry: this might do some good. I
assure your Lordship that people speak to me very strongly about it.

With regard to Dr. Daza,[55] all I can say
is, that I wish your Lordship would do something for him, because I see
he has a great regard for you: I should feel much pleased if something
could be doneâ€“however little. He has assured me, that so highly does he
esteem your Lordship, that even should he displease your Lordship by
asking you to do him a favour, he would not fail to serve you, when an
opportunity offered, without ever speaking of it to your Lordship. So
sincere is his affection for you, that he cannot help feeling his small
share of good luck, especially when he sees the favours your Lordship
has already bestowed on others, and which you still continue to bestow.
He has written to your Lordship on the subject of the benefice. He feels
confident that if any office becomes vacant, your Lordship will kindly
bestow it upon him before you depart. I should be exceeding pleased if
he could meet with such good luck, being persuaded it would be pleasing
to God and in accordance with every one's wish. I take the liberty of
telling your Lordship, you are in a manner bound to grant him
this favour. May God grant your Lordship may soon be able to bestow the
benefice, that so you may satisfy every one. However small the favour
might be, even though it were less than being a canon, I think he would
accept it. In a word, no persons have so disinterested a love for your
Lordship, as the Carmelites have: they only wish you would love them,
and they fervently pray Almighty God to preserve your Lordship many,
many years. We have permitted my brother, who is now in the Locutory, to
be informed of this matter. He sends his most respectful regards to
your Lordship, and so does Teresa. We are all mortified at your Lordship
requesting us to recommend you to God. Your Lordship must know that we
do so; to suppose otherwise, would be doing us a kind of injury.

I am in such a hurry to send off this letter, that I can say no more,
except that Dr. Daza will, I think, be content, provided your Lordship
will have the goodness to promise, that the first vacant benefice shall
be given to him.

Your Lordship's unworthy Servant and Subject,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XV.To the Most Illustrious Lord, Don Alvaro de Mendoza, Bishop of Avila.

In another letter the Saint mentions how she once heard a voice in the interior of the soul, saying, "Seek yourself in me,"â€“Buscate en mi.
These words she mentioned to her brother, who was then at Avila,
begging of him to correspond with the divine call. The bishop, to whom
this letter is addressed, became acquainted with what the Saint heard,
and expressed a wish that the words should form the subject of a
spiritual recreation. Four persons were chosen to give their opinion on
the meaning of the words, viz., St. John of the Cross, Father Julian de
Avila, a pious gentleman named Francesco de Salcedo, and the Saint's
brother Lorenzo de Cepeda. After these four individuals had each sent
their own explanation of the words to the bishop, his Lordship sent the
answers to the Saint, and commanded her, under obedience, to examine
them, and give her opinion on their correctness. This she playfully does
in the present letter. Her natural wit and vivacity are conspicuous.
Date, 1577. Carta V. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. Did not obedience compel me, I should not certainly have answered
your Lordship's letter, nor should I have accepted the commission you
give me, to examine the opinions on the meaning of the words; and this
for certain reasons different from what the sisters allege on the
subject. They say, "I refuse to pronounce who gave the best
explanationâ€“simply because my brother is one amongst those who are to be
examined, and that my affection for him might induce me to be partial
to him." But this is not the reason which prevents me, because I love
all equally, since all have assisted me in supporting my labours; and my
brother only came in when these were drawing to an end, when we had
nigh finished drinking the chalice of our Lord; though since that time
he has had some share in those trials, and henceforth by God's grace he
is likely to share in some more.

May God give me his grace, that I may say nothing deserving of the
censure of the Inquisition, for my head still aches with all the
business I have to attend to, and with the numerous letters I have
written since last night. But obedience can do all things; and,
therefore, well or ill, I will endeavour to do what your Lordship
commands me. I thought I should have been somewhat amused with reading
the billets, but it is no such thing.

The words in question are, in my opinion, a motto of the Spouse of our
souls, who says,â€“"Seek thyself in Me." It is evident, then, that SeÃ±or
Francesco de Salcedo is mistaken, in trying to prove from these words
that God is in all things: do we not know, without such an explanation,
that He is in all things?

He also speaks a great deal of the understanding and of union. But who
does not know, that where there is union, there the understanding does
not work? And if it works not, how can it seek? The words of Davidâ€“"I
will hear what the Lord God will speak in me"â€“pleased me much, because
that peace which is in the powers of the soul, and which the prophet
calls a "people," is greatly to be esteemed. But as I do not intend to
approve of all that has been said, therefore I say that this passage is
not to the point; for the Spouse does not say, "Let us hear," but "Let
us seek."

But what is worse than this is, that if he does not retract, I will
denounce him to the Inquisition, which is near at hand. After having so
often saidâ€“"These are the words of St. Paulâ€“this is an oracle of the
Holy Ghost,"â€“he acknowledges at least, "that all he had written was nonsense!" He must correct his mistake immediately; if not, he shall see the consequence.

Father Julian de Avila began well, but makes a bad end, and so he
deserves no praise: he was not asked on this occasion to explain how
Uncreated Light could unite itself with the creative, but how we
ought to seek ourselves in God. Neither did we require that he should
tell us the sentiments of a soulâ€“when she is united with her Creator,
and whether in such a state of union there is any difference between her
and the Creator. I do not think he has understanding enough to solve
these questions, for if he had, we should easily see the difference
there is between the Creator and the creature.

He also says, "When the soul is purified." I think that these virtues
and the method of purifying the soul of which he speaks are not a
sufficient explanation of the subject, because it is a supernatural gift
bestowed by God only on whom He pleases; and if we could have any
disposition for this, it is love. But I pardon his mistakes, because he
is not so prolix as Father John of the Cross. He lays down very sound
doctrine in his answer; but it is only fit for those who wish to go
through the "Exercises" used by the Society of Jesus: it does not suit our purpose.

It would cost us dear if we were to seek God, only when we are dead to
the world. Magdalen, the Samaritan, and CananÃ¦an woman, were not thus
dead when they found Him. He likewise says in many places, "that a soul
becomes one and the same with God by means of union." But when God has
bestowed this favour on a soul, He does not tell her to seek "Him,"
since she has already found Him.

God preserve me from such spiritual people, who wish to reduce
everything to perfect contemplation, without examining whether it be
suitable or not. However, we are obliged to him for having explained the
matter so well, and made us understand what we did not ask him to
explain. For this reason, it is good always to be speaking of God,
because we thereby gain a great deal of profit, even when we least
expect it.

Such was what we received from SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Capeda, whom we thank sincerely for his answer and for the verses.[56]
But if he has said more than he understands, we shall forgive him on
account of the diversion he has given us, and pardon the little humility
he has shown in attempting to explain such elevated subjects, as he
acknowledges by his answer he does. And because he undertakes, without
having been desired, to advise souls to aim at the prayer of Quiet (as
if it depended upon them), he shall be subject to the trouble which he
knows well is due to him who falls into such a fault. God grant he may
derive some profit from his temerity. His remarks, however, have given
me great comfort, though I know he has some reason to be ashamed of
them. One cannot decide whose remarks are the best, because, without
injustice it may be said, that all the four individuals have fallen into
mistakes.

I hope your Lordship will tell these persons to correct their errors.
Perhaps I shall correct myself in not resembling my brother in his want
of humility. All these gentlemen are so very spiritual and elevated,
that they have only failed through having said too much: I mean (as I
have said before) that he who shall obtain this favour of having his
soul united with God, will have no further need of seeking Him, since he
possesses Him by this union.

I return your Lordship many thanks for the favour of your letter, to
which I shall not at present return an answer, nor tire you any more
with my nonsense.[57]

Your Lordship's unworthy Servant and Subject,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XVI.To the most Illustrious Lord, Don Sancho D'Avila, afterwards Bishop of Jaen.

This great prelate was confessor to the Saint, and Palafox mentions that
he preached a magnificent sermon at her canonization. In this letter
she consoles him on the death of his mother, and gives him some
instruction how to act in regard to certain scruples which troubled him.
Date, 1580. Carta VI. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The Grace of the Holy Spirit be ever with your Lordship.

I praise our Lord, and I consider as a great favour what seems to you to
be a fault, viz., your having ceased to lament the death of the
Marchioness, your mother. I own we have sustained a great loss by her
decease. But now she enjoys the sight of her God; and may His Majesty
grant that you and I may make so holy an end.

Your Lordship has done well in writing her life, for she was a holy
soul, and I can bear testimony to the truth of this statement. I am much
obliged to your Lordship for intending to send me a copy of the Life;
in it will be much for me to consider, and much to be thankful to God
for.

As to the firm resolution of never offending God, which your Lordship
tells me you do not feel within you, do not on this account be troubled,
provided you do not offend Him in reality when an opportunity of
serving Him, and of withdrawing yourself from sin, presents itself. When
you do not offend His Majesty, it is an evident sign that your
resolution is sincere and firm. The devotion which your Lordship feels
for receiving the most Blessed Sacrament every day, and the pain you
feel when you do not receive it, are signs of the great love your
Lordship has for Him.

Always consider the favours you receive from our Lord, that so the love
you bear Him may increase more and more. Do not occupy your mind with
examining your miseries in detail: those which present themselves in
general to each oneâ€“and to me especiallyâ€“are quite sufficient.

As to the distractions which happen in reciting the Divine office, I am
also very subject to them, and I believe they proceed from a weakness in
the head, at least in mine. Your Lordship may think the same; for God
knows well that when we perform this duty, we wish to do it with the
greatest possible attention. I am much better in health than I was last
year: I may say I am perfectly well, if what I suffer now be compared
with what I suffered then, though I am now seldom without some
affliction. But I bear my sufferings patiently, for as we must live, it
is the best to live in suffering.

I send my very respectful regards to the Marquis, your brother, and also
to his lady, and I beg you would assure them, that notwithstanding my
great distance from them, I have not forgotten to offer my poor prayers
for their prosperity. For your Lordship also I pray, and this is but
little I can do, because you are my confessor, and my master and father
at the same time. I beg of your Lordship to remember me most kindly to
SeÃ±or Don Fadrique and to SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Maria. The headache I have will
not allow me to write to them. I beg pardon for the trouble I have given
your Lordship: but in return, I beg His Divine Majesty to preserve you,
and to give your Lordship that holiness which I so much desire for you.
Amen.

Your Lordship's unworthy Servant and Daughter,

TERESA DE JESUS.

From Avila, October 10th, 1580.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XVII.To the Very Illustrious Lord, Don Sancho D'Avila.

The Saint thanks him for writing to her, and gives him an account of the
foundation of the convent at Burgos. The letter was written from
Valencia, August 12th, 1582. Carta VII. Spanish ed. vol. i. N.B.â€“Don Sancho was not a bishop when this letter was written.[58]

JESUS. The Grace of the Holy Spirit be ever with you. Amen.

If I had known the place where you were, I should much sooner have
satisfied the great desire I had to answer your letter, and to let you
know the comfort I received from it. May His Divine Majesty reward you
with spiritual blessings: this is what I continually beg for you.

I had so many troubles, such poor health, and such numerous occupations
in the foundation of Burgos, that I had scarcely any time to give myself
the pleasure of writing to you. I thank God that trouble is now over,
and has ended well. I have had an earnest desire to pass through your
place, and it would give me a great deal of comfort to tell you by word
of mouth certain matters which cannot be properly explained by letter.
But in few things does our Lord wish my will to be accomplished:
however, I am content, provided that of His Divine Majesty be fulfilled:
this is all my desire.

I am anxious to see the Life of the Marchioness, your mother. I think
that the lady-abbess, your sister, has delayed sending it to me, that
she might have time to read it herself: she may have received the letter
too late. You have great reason to wish so holy a life should be read
by every one; God grant you may not forget anything which deserves to be
known: I am only afraid you may not have said enough.

Alas! what have I not suffered from the parents of my niece,[59]
through my leaving her at Avila till I returned from Madrid. When they
found that I was resolute, I was able to accomplish my object.

May God preserve you in recompense for the great care you take of
bestowing favours upon the parents: I hope you will be their support.
May God preserve you many years in that holiness which I always pray you
may have. Amen.

Your unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XVIII.To the Very Reverend Father, Fray Juan Bautista Rubeo de Ravena, General of the Order of our Lady of Mount Carmel.

Though this holy man had a great esteem for the Saint, yet, through
false reports which had been made to him by those who did not approve
the reform of the order, he issued in a general chapter certain decrees
against the Saint, and especially against Fathers Gracian and Mariano.
For these the Saint pleads in the present letter, and assures the
General of her obedience to whatever he shall command. The letter is
written with great mildness and judgment. Date, 1576. Carta XIII.
Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The Grace of the Holy Spirit be ever with your Reverence. Amen.

Since my arrival at Seville, I have written to your Reverence three or
four times. I did not write any more, because our Fathers who came from
the Chapter told me you were not at Rome, but had gone to visit the
convents of Mantua. Thanks be to God that the affair has succeeded so
well. In my letters I gave your Reverence an account of the three
convents that have been founded this year, viz., at Veas, Caravaca, and
Seville. In these places you have religious who are indeed great
servants of God. The two first are rented, but the latter is founded in
poverty, so that at present we have no house of our own: but I hope in
our Lord we shall soon have one. I do not give you a particular account
of each of them, because I am certain that some of my former letters
will, by this time, have reached your Reverence.

In one of them I made the remarkâ€“what a difference there is in speaking
to the Discalced Fathers (I mean Father Gracian and Father Mariano), and
hearing their enemies speak of them. These Fathers are certainly the
true children of your Reverence; and I may say, that in every spiritual
point they yield to none of those who boast so much of their being your
children. As they engaged me to beg of your Reverence to receive them
again into your favourâ€“(for they themselves dare not write to you), I
entreated your Reverence with all possible earnestness in the letters
which I wrote to you: now I renew my entreaties. I trust you will grant
me this favour, for the love of our Lord. Believe what I say, for I have
no reason to induce me not to speak the truth. Besides, I think I
should offend God were I to conceal this matter from you: but even
though I should not offend Him, I should consider it a great crime, as well as malice, to conceal anything from a father whom I love so tenderly

When we shall appear before the Tribunal of God, you will see what you owe to your true daughter, Teresa de Jesus.[60] This is the only thing that consoles me in the matter, for I believe some
will be found who may tell you differently. But those who are
unprejudiced must acknowledgeâ€“that I speak the truth, and this I will do
as long as I live.

I have already written to your Reverence respecting the commission which
Father Gracian received from the Nuncio, and how he was sent to find
him. You must know, that he has been confirmed in his office of Visitor
of our fathers and sisters, and likewise of the province of Andalucia. I
am confident he will refuse, as far as he can do so, to be Visitor of
Andalucia, though report says the contrary; but I tell you the truth;
and his brother, the Secretary, does not wish him to accept the office,
because it is always attended with great trouble. But as this matter is
already settled, if those Fathers had believed me, the business would
have been amicably arranged, as if all were brothers, without giving
offence to anyone. I have done all I could to make them agree; and this
was only proper, as those Fathers have helped us much since we have been
here: I have also found here, as I told your Reverence, persons of
great talent and learning. I wish we could have such as these in our
province of Castile.

I am very fond of making a virtue of necessity, as the saying is; and
for this reason I should have wished that those persons, before they
undertook to make any opposition, had considered whether there was any
probability of their succeeding in the matter. On the other hand, I do
not wonder at their opposition, for they are tired of so many
visitations and changes, which have taken place these last few years on
account of our sins. God grant we may know how to profit by them, for
His Majesty thereby tries us much. However, as the Visitor is now of the
same order, the visitation will not be considered in the light of a
reflection upon the order. I trust in God, that if your Reverence should
show some kindness to this Father,[61] all
the rest of the affair will go on well, for then every one will know he
is in your favour. He has taken the liberty of writing to your
Reverence, since he is very anxious to be friends with you, and not to
give you any pain, because he considers himself to be one of your
obedient sons.

I once more beg of your Reverence, for the love of our Lord and His
glorious Mother, whom you love so tenderly, and whom Father Gracian also
loves, and who entered our order that so he might prove his love for
her,â€“I beg of you to answer this letter with mildness, and to forget
what has passed even though he should have been in fault, and to receive
him again as your child and subject, for he is indeed an obedient son. I
beg the same for poor Father Mariano, who sometimes does not know how
to explain himself. Hence I should not be surprised if he wrote things
to your Reverence different from what he had in his thoughts, not
knowing how to express his meaning better; for he positively declares
that he never had any intention of making you angry, either by word or
deed. As the devil gains a great deal by making people take things in a
wrong sense, so he has employed all his art that these two Fathers
might, contrary to their wish, be unsuccessful in their affairs.

But your Reverence should consider how natural it is for children to
err, and for parents to pardon and forget the faults of their children.
For the love of God then, I beg of your Reverence to grant me this
favour. It is necessary for many reasons, which you may not know so well
in Italy as I do here; and though we poor women are not fit persons to
give good advice, still sometimes we hit the mark as well as a man. I
cannot see what harm can come from receiving these poor men into favour
again; on the contrary, you may (as I said) derive a great deal of good
by so doing; whereas, I see none can be gained in not lovingly receiving
those who would willingly cast themselves at your feet, were they near
your Reverence. God does not fail to pardon us, however guilty: imitate
Him, then, on this occasion, and make it known, that you are glad one of
your own children and subjects has undertaken the reform of the Order,
and how, in return, you are glad to pardon him.

If there were many to whom this commission could be given,â€“well and
good: but as it seems there is no religious so fit for the office as
this father is (and I am sure if you saw him you would be of the same
opinion), why does your Reverence not show as, that you are glad to have
such a man under your obedience? Why should you not wish all the world
to know, that the reform (if it should prosper) was effected through
your means, and by your advice? It is certain, that if your Reverence is
known to approve this reform, all difficulties will vanish. I could say
much more respecting this matter. But I beseech our Lord to make you
understand, how necessary that is which I have already said, for
it is now some time since you have paid any attention to my words. I am
quite certain, that if I fall into any mistake, my intention at least is
sincere.

Father Antonio de Jesus is here: he could not help coming, although he
began to defend himself against the other fathers. He now writes to your
Reverence, and perhaps may be more fortunate than I have been in
receiving an answer. I trust your Reverence will form a proper judgment
about all I tell you. As to the rest, may our Lord order
everything,â€“how, and as He pleases, and sees best.

I have heard of the decree of the General Chapter, which forbids me to
leave the house I may choose to live in. The provincial, Father Angel,
had sent the news to Father Ulloa, with a command to notify the decree
to me. He thought this would trouble me; for those fathers, in procuring
such a decree, had the intention of giving me pain; and on this
account, he kept the document in his room, not venturing to show it to
me for more than a month. But as I was informed of the matter, during
that time, from another quarter, I have induced him to mention it to me.

I assure your Reverence, in all sincerity, that, as far as regards
myself, it would have given me great pleasure and content, had you send
this command by letter, and that, feeling compassion for me, on account
of the numerous labours and sufferings I have endured in these
foundations (and your Reverence knew well that I could bear but little),
you had commanded me to take some rest, as a recompense for what I had
suffered. Knowing from which such a command came, I should have felt
great consolation in my rest.

But the sincere esteem I have for your Reverence makes me feel, on the
other hand, that this command is somewhat rigorous, because, it was sent
to me as to one who was disobedient. This is what Brother Angel had
published to the Cortes, before I knew anything of the matter. Every one
thought this was too great a restraint upon me; and he informed me
himself that I might find a remedy by writing to the Pope, as if I had
not found a great pleasure in obeying your command. Even though I felt no
pleasure in fulfilling the command of your Reverence, I should never
have dreamt of disobeying you; for I continually beg of God, not to give
me any pleasure against your will. I can truly assure you (and our Lord
is my witness), that if I have any comfort in the labours, disquiets,
afflictions, and detractions I have endured, it was because I thought I
was doing your will, and giving you pleasure; and hence I hope I shall
now also receive the same comfort from fulfilling the command of your
Reverence. I wished to execute your orders immediately; but as Christmas
was near, and the journey so long, my desire was not granted, as they
knew it was not the wish of your Reverence to hazard my health; and so I
am still to remain here, not, however, with the intention of always
remaining in this house, but only till the winter is over, for I do not
find myself at home with the people of Andalucia.

I humbly beg of your Reverence not to forget to write to me, wherever I
may be; and as I have nothing now to occupy me (which is indeed a great
comfort to me), I fear you will forget me, though I shall endeavour to
forget this; for however tired your Reverence may be in hearing from me,
I shall not cease writing to you, for my own comfort.

People never imagined here, nor do they yet believe, that the council
and the Pope's brief could take from superiors the power of commanding
religious to go from one house to another, for the good of the Order and
for affairs connected with it that may present themselves. I do not
mention this for my own sake, as I am now good for nothing: for if I
knew I could afford your Reverence the least pleasure, I would willingly
remain all my life, not only in the same house (for there I should be
able to enjoy a little quiet and repose), but even in a prison. This I
say, in order to take away any scruples which your Reverence may have
with regard to the past. Though I had even "Letters Patent," never would
I go to any place to found a monastery (and it is clear I could not
leave my convent for any other cause), without a command in writing, or
leave from my superior. When I went to Veas and Caravaca, Father Angel
gave me orders, and Father Gracian commanded me to come here, for he had
then the same commission from the Nuncio that he has now, though he did
not make use of it. How can Father Angel say, then, that I have come
here as an apostate, and that I was excommunicated? May God forgive him.
Your Reverence knows well, and can testify, that I have always
endeavoured to keep friends with him, and to please him in all things
that were not displeasing to God; and yet he never would be friends with
me.

It would have been much better, had he turned against Father Valdemoro,
who, being prior of Avila, drove the nuns from the Convent of the
Incarnation, to the great scandal of the people. The convent was in such
a good state, as to make one praise God for it; and yet he treated the
poor nuns so ill, that it was a pity to behold the great trouble they
had to endure. They wrote to me to excuse the prior, and they took all
the blame upon themselves. The fathers have, however, returned; and I am
informed, the Nuncio has forbidden all other Carmelites to hear the
confessions of the sisters.

The troubles of the poor religious have afflicted me exceedingly, for
they gave them nothing but bread; and, on the other hand, they are still
in trouble, and I feel much for them. May our Lord provide a remedy for
all these evils, and preserve your Reverence many years. I am told that
the general of the Dominicans is coming here. Would that God did me the
favour of sending you here also. My joy would then be complete;
though I should, on the other hand, feel for you on account of the
fatigue you would be exposed to from the journey. Thus I shall be
obliged to wait for my rest and consolation in that eternity which has
no end, where your Reverence will know how greatly you are indebted to
me.

May our Lord grant, in His mercy, that I may one day arrive there. I
earnestly recommend myself to the prayers of those reverend fathers who
accompany you. The religious of this houseâ€“the daughters of your
Reverenceâ€“beg your blessing, and I ask the same favour for myself.

Your Reverence's unworthy Daughter and Subject,

TERESA DE JESUS.

From Seville

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XIX.To the Very Reverend Father Domingo BaÃ±ez, of the Order of St. Dominic.

This holy and learned man was professor of Theology in the University of
Salamanca: he was also confessor to the Saint, when he commanded her,
in virtue of obedience, to write "The way of Perfection." This letter
was written at Segovia, where she seems to have received a young lady
named Parda, whom Domingo BaÃ±ez had recommended to her. Date, 1574.
Carta XVI. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Ghost be ever with you, and with my soul.

We need not wonder at anything which is done for the love of God, since
the esteem which I have for you is so powerful, that whatever you
consider good, I consider good also, and whatever you wish, I wish also.

I am much pleased with the young lady named Parda. She is so enraptured
since she took the habit, that we are all excited to praise God for it. I
think I shall not have the heart to make her a lay-sister, seeing what
you have done for her good; so that I have resolved to let her learn to
read; afterwards I will act according to circumstances.

I knew her disposition even before I spoke to her:[62]
and since she came here, she has excited a Religious of the house to
such a spirit of prayer, that she is almost out of herself. I assure
you, my father, I feel a great pleasure whenever I receive any one that
brings nothing to the convent; for then I receive them only for the love
of God. Hence, when I see such a person enter religion, who could not
follow their vocation for want of means, I am convinced God bestows a
particular favour upon me, that so I may be instrumental in doing the
same good. If every one could be received in this manner, it would fill
me with great joy. However, I do not remember ever to be refused any
one, through not having a dowry, if in other respects I found them
suitable subjects.

I feel a particular pleasure in beholding the great favours our Lord
bestows upon you, by employing you in such good works: I was also quite
pleased to receive the poor young woman. You have become the father of
those who can do little for themselves, and the charity which our Lord
gives you for this object makes me rejoice so much, that I will do
whatever lies in my power to assist you in such works. Her companion who
came with her wept so much, that I thought she would never stop. I know
not why you sent her with Parda.

The father visitor has already given permission, and that is a beginning
to obtain more, through the Divine assistance. If your Reverence should
wish, I may receive the weeper[63] also, and then there will be enough for the Convent of Segovia.

Parda has found a good father in you: she says, "she can scarcely
believe she is a Carmelite." The joy she feels makes one thank God. I
praise His goodness for having sent your little nephew here, who came
with DoÃ±a Beatrix, whom I was very glad to see: why did your Reverence
not tell me he would come this way?

I have a great esteem for the sister we have received, because she has
lived with a holy friend of mine, whom you know very well. Her sister
has written to me, and offers me a great many things. I answered her
letter, and told her how much I was obliged to her. I think I love her
better now, than when her sister was alive. You know you had a
vote in the election of a prior for the Monastery of St. Stephen: all
the rest have voted for the present prior, and I was edified to find
them all so united in their choice.

Yesterday I was speaking with a father of your order, his name is Melchior Cano.[64] I told him that if there were many minds in the Order like his, many monasteries for contemplative might be founded.

I have written to Avila, in order that those who are to go and found the
convent you mention, may not lose courage on learning that we have not
here everything which is necessary: I earnestly wish the business to
commence immediately. Why did you not tell me what you have done? May
God make you a saint, as I desire. I intend some day or other to speak
to you about those fears you have; but you only lose time in troubling
yourself with them. This, however, you will not believe, because you
want humility. Melchior Cano, of whom I spoke, does much better than
you, for he says, "he found great benefit through having once spoken to
me at Avila," and he thinks he always has me before his eyes. What a
pious soul! O! what a soul does God possess in him! he has consoled me
exceedingly.

But it seems as if I had nothing else to do, but to speak to your
Reverence about the piety of other persons. Remain with God, and beg of
Him to give me grace, not to depart in anything from His will.

Your Reverence's Daughter and Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

Sunday Night

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XX.To the very Reverend Father Prior of the Carthusian Monastery at Seville.

The Saint gives this holy man an account of the persecutions which the
Carmelites of Seville had suffered, and she recommends to his notice the
bearer of the letter. Date, 1579. Carta XVII, Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The Grace of the Holy Spirit be ever with your Reverence.

What do you think, my father, of what has taken place in our house of
the glorious St. Joseph? What do you think of those who have treated
(and do still treat) the poor sisters so ill? What do you think
of the spiritual trials and troubles which they have now endured so
longâ€“from those even who ought to have consoled them? For my part, I
think that if they have besought our Lord to send them these troubles,
He has, indeed, heard their prayers. May He be blessed for ever.

I assure you I am not at all troubled about those Religious who came
with me for the foundation. Sometimes I even rejoice to see what great
advantages they derive from this war, which the devil has excited
against them. But I am certainly grieved for those who have taken the
habit since that time; for instead of their being occupied with the care
of acquiring interior peace and of learning the rules of the Order,
everything is in confusion; and this may do a great deal of harm to
their souls, as they have only lately given themselves to the service of
our Lord. May he send a remedy. I assure your Reverence, it is now some
time since the devil began his machinations against them. I have
written to the prioress, and told her to mention all her troubles to
you. Perhaps she did not venture to do so. It would be a great comfort
for me if I could speak plainly to your Reverence, but I dare not trust
to a letter:[65] I should not have said so much now, had I not sent this by a trusty messenger.

The young man who brings this letter came to ask me, if I knew any one,
at Seville who would be responsible for his taking a place in the
service of some lady, for he cannot live in this part of the country, as
the air is too cold for him, although he was born in it. He has been a
servant to a canon of this city, who is a friend of mine, and who
assures me the young man is very good and honest. He can write and cast
up accounts very well. Do keep him with you, if you can: this favour I
beg of your Reverence, for the love of God. If any opportunity of
getting him a place should present itself, please to be responsible for
him, according to the character I have given him; your Reverence may do
this with perfect security, for he who spoke about him to me is
incapable of telling any untruth.

When he told me of his intention of going to Seville, I was delighted to
have so good an opportunity of consoling myself, by writing to your
Reverence, and begging of you to act in such a manner that the deposed
prioress may read my letter, and all the letters I or others may send
her from this part. No doubt your Reverence is already aware, how she
has been deprived of her office, and how one of those who took the veil
in that convent has been chosen in her place. I do not now dwell on many
other persecutions which they have endured, which were so great, that
the sisters were forced to give up the letters which I wrote to them,
and which the Nuncio now possesses.

The poor souls stood in great need of some advice, for even the lawyers
here are astonished at what they were made to do, through fear of
excommunication. I am afraid they said many things against their
conscience, and perhaps they did not understand matters properly; for
they asserted many things in their depositions which are altogether
false, for I myself was at that time in the convent, and what they
deposed never happened there. But I do not wonder at their being made to
utter so many most untrue things and such extravagances, for one of the
nuns was examined for six hours together, and some of the sisters,
through want of judgment, would have signed everything that their
enemies wished. We have learned a lesson here by what has happened, for
we considered what we signed, and so there has been nothing which could
be turned against us.

For a year and a half our Lord has afflicted us in all kinds of ways:
but I feel the greatest confidence that He will protect His servants,
and enable them to discover the snares which the devil has raised
against this house. The glorious St. Joseph will bring the truth to
light, and make known the virtues of those sisters who went forth to
found the convent: as regards those who took the habit there, I know
them not: I know, however, that they have great influence over her who
governs them, and this has caused much harm in many things.

I entreat your Reverence, for the love of God, not to forsake them, but
to help them with your prayers in this their tribulation, for they have
no one but God in Heaven, and upon earth none but yourself to comfort
them. But His Majesty knows their heart will protect them, and will give
you the charity to do the same.

This letter I send open, so that if the sisters should be commanded to
give up the letters they receive from me to the provincial, you will
arrange matters so that some one may read it, and then some relief may
be given in seeing my letter.

It is thought that the provincial would wish them to leave the
monastery: if this should be the case, the novices must accompany them.
What I understand by this isâ€“that the devil cannot bear the Carmelites:
it is for this reason that he wages such a cruel war against them: but I
trust in our Lord, that all his stratagems will avail him little.

I hope your Reverence will consider that you have been the protector of
the Religious at Seville; and now, as they stand in such need of
assistance, help them, I beg of you, through your love of the glorious
St. Joseph. I know the favours which your Reverence has bestowed on our
fathers: may His Divine Majesty be pleased to grant you a long life for
the protection of these poor Religious, and to give you that sanctity
which I always beg for you. Amen.

Your Reverence's unworthy Servant, and Subject,

TERESA DE JESUS.

P.S.â€“Your Reverence may read the letters I send to the sisters, provided they do not tire you too much.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXI.To the Reverend Father Rodrigo Alvarez, of the Society of Jesus.

This is the second letter which the Saint wrote to this holy man. I have
not translated the other, because it is more a treatise than a letter,
and also because the greater part of the subject is mentioned in the
"Interior Castle," lately published. It is Letter XVIII. in the Spanish
ed. vol. i. In the present letter the Saint gives her confessor an
account of her manner of proceeding with regard to supernatural things,
and she mentions the different persons whom she consulted. It is written
with great brevity and clearness. Date, 1576. Carta XIX, Spanish ed.
vol. i.

JESUS. It is now forty years since that Religious[66]
took the habit. From her first entering into religion, she spent some
time during the day in meditating on the Passion of Christ our Lord, and
in thinking of her sins, without raising her thoughts to any
supernatural object. But she considered God's creatures, and whatever
else could help her to discover the instability of all earthly things:
by these considerations she was excited to admire the greatness of the
Creator, and the wonderful love He has for us.

They also filled her with a desire of serving Him, and this was much
greater than the fear of torments, for these were never the motives
which influenced her in loving Him. The desire which she felt that God
might be praised and His Church extended, was very great. For this
intention she prayed and offered up whatever she did, without doing
anything for herself, for it seemed to her to be of little consequence
what she suffered, provided only the Church could be exalted, even
though it were but slightly.

She spent about twenty-two years in these occupations, together with
great aridities, and never did she think of aiming at anything more, for
she considered herself to be such, as to be unworthy even to think upon
God; rather did she think, that His Majesty bestowed a great favour
upon her, in allowing her to pray in His presence, and permitting her to
read good books.

It is now eighteen years since persons began to speak to her about
founding the first monastery of Carmelites, which was established at
Avila. Two or three years before (I think it was three), she began to
feel that she was spoken to interiorly, and even to have some visions
and interior revelations with the eyes of the soulâ€“(for she never saw
them with her corporeal eyes, nor did she hear anything exteriorly; only
twice it seemed to her as if she heard some one speaking exteriorly;
but she did not understand anything). When she saw anything interiorly,
the representation lasted only for a moment, generally speaking; but it
was so deeply impressed on her soul, and produced such wonderful effects
that had she seen those things with her corporeal eyes, they could not
have seen more clearly.

At that time she was of a very timid nature, so much so, that sometimes
she durst not be alone, not even in the daytime. And as she could not
prevent these visions, however much she tried to do so, she was
exceedingly grieved and afflicted, fearing lest she might be deceived by
the devil. On this account, she began to consult some spiritual
persons, belonging to the Society of Jesus.

Among these were Father Aroath, who was Commissary of the Society, and who came to the place where she was; also Father Francis,[67]
who was Duke of Gandia, to whom she spoke twice on this subject; a
provincial named Gil Gonzalez, who is now at Rome; she likewise
consulted him, who is now provincial of Castile, though she did not
speak often with him; Father Baltasar Alvarez, who is now rector of the
college at Salamanca, and who at that time had been her confessor for
six years: she consulted the present rector of Cuenca, whose name is
Salazar; a rector of Segovia, named Santander; a rector of Burgos, named
Ripalda; this last individual was not well disposed towards her, on
account of what he had heard respecting her: but after she had spoken
with him, he altered his opinion. She consulted Doctor Paulo Hernandez,
of Toledo, also, who was consultor of the Inquisition; likewise the
rector of Salamanca; Doctor Gutierrez, and some other Fathers of the
Society, who had the reputation of being spiritual men; and as they
lived in the places whither she went to found her monasteries, she took
the opportunity of consulting them.

In addition to these, she frequently consulted Father Peter, of
Alcantara, a holy man of the order of St. Francis, who was so
instrumental in persuading her that she was led by the Spirit of God.[68]
These fathers continued for more than six years to try her, as she has
mentioned in detail elsewhere, and as will be seen afterwards. And while
these trials were going on, the more suspensions and raptures she had,
and these happened very frequently, accompanied with many tears and
afflictions, and not without great pain.

Many prayers were said, and many masses offered for her, in order that
our Lord might conduct her by some other way, because, when she was not
in prayer she had very great fears, although as far as regarded her
soul, it was easy to see she had advanced much, and a great change for
the better was evident. She had no temptation to vainglory, nor to
pride; on the contrary, she was quite ashamed and displeased, that her
visions were known, and she never spoke of them, except to her
confessors, or to people who she thought would never mention them. It
gave her greater repugnance to declare these favours to those
individuals, than it did to mention her grievous sins, for she fancied
they would laugh at her, and consider them as so many old women's
stories, which she always disliked hearing.

It is now about thirteen years, a little more or less, that after having founded the convent of St. Joseph's,[69]
into which she had retired after leaving the other, there came to Avila
an inquisitor; I know not if he came from Toledo, but I am certain he
had been in Seville: his name is Sobo,[70]
and he is now bishop of Salamanca. She tried to see him, in order to
gain more confidence and security for herself; for this purpose, she
gave him an account of everything. The inquisitor told her, that such
matters did not belong to his office, because everything that she heard
and saw in prayer, only confirmed her more and more in the Catholic
faith, to which she would ever firmly adhere, and inspired her with the
most ardent desires for the glory of God and the welfare of souls, to
save only one of whom she would consent to die a thousand deaths. As the
inquisitor perceived she was in great affliction, he advised her to
give, in writing an account of all these things, and also of her whole
life, without omitting any circumstance, and to send it to Father Avila,
a man who had great experience in matters relating to prayer: and that
when she had written this account, she should endeavour to compose her
mind. She did what he told her, and wrote down her sins, together with
an account of her life. Father Avila wrote to her,[71]
and great was the comfort she derived from what he said. This account
was given in such a way, that all learned persons who read it, and those
who were her confessors, said it was very useful for giving advice in
spiritual matters, and so they commanded her to transcribe it, and
compose another little book[72] for the instruction of her daughtersâ€“(for she was the prioress), in which she was to give them some advice concerning prayer.

Notwithstanding all this, she sometimes had great fears, for she thought
that even the most spiritual persons might be deceived, as well as
herself: on this account, she requested her confessor to allow her to
consult some more learned persons, though they might not be much given
to prayer, since she desired nothing else but to know, if what she
experienced was conformable to Holy Scripture. Sometimes she consoled
herself by the consideration, that, though she deserved to be deceived
on account of her sins, yet that our Lord would not permit so many good
persons to be deceived, who were so desirous of enlightening her.

With this intention, she began to consult the fathers of the Order of
the glorious St. Dominic, who, before these things happened, had been
her confessors, though she had never acknowledged this, but said she had
confessed to fathers belonging to the Order. The following are the
names of the persons whom she afterwards consulted. Father Vincente
Barron, who was then consultor of the Holy Office, heard her confession
for a year and a half at Toledo; and, before these things happened, she
had consulted him for many years. He was a very learned man, and did her
great good; and so also did those fathers of the Society whom I have
mentioned before. All of them assured her that as long as she did not
offend God, and acknowledged her own wickedness, what need she fear?

She consulted Father Pedro IbaÃ±ez who was professor at Avila; Father
Domingo BaÃ±ez, who is now professor at Valladolid in the College of St.
Gregory, and who was her confessor for six years, and she always
consulted him by letter when she thought it necessary to do so; Maestro
Chaves; Father BartolomÃ© de Medina, professor at Salamanca, and as she
knew he was not well disposed towards her, on account of what he had
heard about her, she thought that he would tell her, better than any one
else, whether she were deluded, as he had no good opinion of her.
Accordingly, about two years ago, she had an opportunity of making her
confession to him; she then gave him an account of all that had happened
since the time she began to have these raptures, and this professor
read all she had written on the subject, in order to be able to
understand the matter better. After this, he consoled her more than all
the others had, and ever since has continued her sincere friend.

She likewise confessed for some time to Father Felipe de Meneses, who
was rector of St. Gregory's College at Valladolid, when she founded a
monastery there. But he had previously gone to Avila (having heard
certain things about her), in order to speak very kindly to her on the
subject, and to enlighten her in case she should have been deceived; but
if she were not, to take her part, should he hear any one speaking
against her. He was perfectly satisfied with her account of her life.

She also very frequently consulted a provincial of the Dominicans, named
Salinas, who was a very spiritual man; likewise another individual
called Lunar, who was prior of the Convent of St. Thomas, at Avila; and
at Segovia, a professor named Fay Diego de Yangues.

Among these Dominican fathers, there were some who had attained a high degree of prayer, and perhaps all
of them had. She also spoke with others of the same Order, for she had
abundant opportunities of doing so. During all the years she continued
in these dreadful fears, especially as she was obliged to go into
different parts of the country, in order to found her monasteries. These
fathers tried her in many ways, for they were all desirous of being
able to enlighten her; and so by these means they gave her confidence,
and convinced themselves of the truth of what she told them. She was
always obedient to their commands, and hence she was quite grieved when
she could not obey them in supernatural things. Her prayers, and those
of the houses she founded, were always animated with an ardent desire
for the propagation of the faith: it was for this object, as well as for
the good of the Order, that she commenced her foundations.

She said, that if any of these visions, &c., had induced her to say
anything against the Catholic faith or the law of God, there would then
have been no necessity to consult so many learned men, nor to have
submitted to so many tests, since it would have been evident that she
was deceived by the devil. Never did she regulate her conduct by what
she had heard in prayer; rather when her confessors told her to preform
anything contrary to what she had heard, she did it without the least
repugnance, and gave them an account of everything that happened. She
was never very credulous or confident that these things came from God,
however strongly these fathers assured her that it was so; though, on
some occasions, she believed they came from a good spirit, seeing the
wonderful effects those great favours had produced in her soul. But what
she always desired the most was, to advance in virtue; and this is what
she recommended to her nuns, assuring them that the most humble and the
most mortified would become the most spiritual.[73]

What she said she had written,[74] she gave
to Father Domingo BaÃ±ez, who is now living at Valladolid, and with whom
she has corresponded the most frequently: she continues to do so still.
This father told her he had presented her account to the Holy Office of
the Inquisition at Madrid. She submits in everything to the faith of
the Roman Catholic Church. No one blamed what she said, because these
things do not depend on ourselves, and our Lord does not require
impossibilities.

The reason why these things have been so widely noised abroad is this,
that as she was so harassed by fears and scruples, she spoke about them
to several persons, and so one told them to another. She also did wrong
in having allowed a certain individual to see what she had written, for
she made it public. This was a very great torment and cross to her, and
cost her many tears. She says, "it is not through any feeling of
humility that she regrets what happened, but on account of what was said
about her." It seems our Lord permitted this to happen, in order to
afflict her, because those who before had said the most against her are
now the very individuals who take her part, and speak well of her.

She was extremely careful not to tell any one that she thought these
visions, &c., came from God, for she was fearful lest the devil
might deceive both her and those to whom she should speak. She, however,
more willingly communicated these secrets of her soul to those who she
knew were not too credulous, although she was pained when she saw that,
in order to try her, they affected to despise and ridicule whatever she
said; for she had reason to think that some of those things could come
only from God, and she earnestly wished, therefore, that these should
not be so emphatically condemned, because it was not proper they should.
Still, she did not wish those persons to imagine that everything which
happened to her came from above, for she knew very well there might be
some deceit concealed beneath; on this account, she thought she never
could be entirely secure, where there was so much danger.

She did whatever lay in her power to avoid offending God in any way, and
always obeyed her superiors: by these two means she hoped to be secure
together with the Divine assistance, even though she might have been
deceived by the devil.

From the time she began to experience these supernatural favours, her
soul was always inclined to aim at the most perfect state; and in
general she had a great desire for suffering. Hence she found comfort
amidst the numerous persecutions she had to endure, and she felt a
particular love for those who persecuted her. She had likewise a great
desire of poverty, of solitude, and of being delivered from this land of
exile, that so she might see her God. By these and many other like
effects, she began to enjoy a little more quiet, thinking that the
spirit which, produced such virtues in her soul could not be an evil
one. Those to whom she spoke told her the same, though they did not
entirely remove her fears; still, she was not in such affliction as she
used to be.

She persuaded herself that it was always best to obey, and not to
conceal anything. She never saw any vision with her corporeal eyes, as
mentioned before. But what she did see was represented to her in so
subtile and intellectual a manner, that sometimes at first she could not
help thinking it was purely the effect of her imagination; yet on many
other occasions she could not think so. These things did not
happen frequently, but generally only when she was in some affliction,
as was once the case, when she had to endure, for several days together,
most insupportable interior torments, and a disquiet of soul caused by
her fears, lest she might be deceived by the devil, as she mentions at
some length in the "Account" she published of her sins, as well as of
the other matters, for her fears made her forget her reputation.

When she was in some affliction, which cannot be expressed, by merely
hearing in the interior of her soul these words, "It is Iâ€“be not
afraid,"[75] she immediately became so
calm, so encouraged, and resigned, that she could not comprehend how she
attained such great happiness; for neither her confessor, nor many
learned men, had been able, though they spoke so frequently to her, to
bestow on her that peace and quietude which she had received by those
words. At other times it happened that she was strengthened by some
vision; and had not this been the case, she could not have borne so many
labours and persecutions, besides her infirmities, which were so
numerous and so continual, and which she still suffers, though they are
not so frequent; but she is never without some kind of suffering more or
less. Her ordinary sufferings are violent pains, with many other
infirmities, which have tormented her the more since she became a
religious. Whether she does any little service to our Lord, or receives
favours from Him, all are quickly effaced from her memory, and though
she often thinks on these graces, still she does not dwell upon them so
long as she does upon her sins, which always afflict and disgust her,
just as a noisome smell would do.

The reason why she is not tempted to vainglory is, because she is loaded
with the weight of her sins, and has served the Lord so little. Nothing
has ever crossed her mind but what was pure and chaste; and she thinks
nothing to the contrary can happen, if the supernatural things which she
sees come from good spirit, because she wholly forgets her body, and
takes no care of it: all her thoughts are employed on God.

She has also a great fear of offending her Lord, and she is careful to
do His will in all things: this she continually prays may be ever
fulfilled; hence, she is so determined in her own mind to accomplish
this Holy will, that her confessors can command her nothing which she
would not willingly perform by the Divine assistance, if she thought it
might in any way tend to the glory of God. She is confident that His
Majesty assists those who are determined to labour for His honour and
glory; and in comparison with these objects, she thinks as little of
herself and her own interests as if she had no existence whatever, at
least as far as she knows herself, and her confessors judge proper.

All that is written in this letter is most true, and may be verified by
her confessors and all those persons whom she has consulted for these
last twenty years. Her soul is most frequently excited to break forth
into the praises of God, and she wishes that all the world should know
this, though it might cost her very dearly. Hence arises an ardent
desire for the good of souls, and a great contempt for the things of
this world, knowing that they are but dirt in comparison with the
interior secrets of the soul, which are infinitely more precious.

Since your Reverence wishes to know something about these visions,
behold the manner in which they happen to her. Nothing interior, nor
exterior is seen, because they do not come from the imagination.[76]
But without seeing anything, the soul knows what the object is, and
whence it is represented to her, and this more clearly than if she
actually saw it with her eyes, except that she sees nothing in
particular. It is just as if she perceived some person to be near her,
though being in the dark she does not see any one; yet she knows for
certain that he is near her. This comparison, however, is not sufficient
to make the subject clear, because he who is in the dark can tell, by
some way or other, that a person is near him, either by hearing a noise,
or by having known beforehand that the individual is there. But here
there is nothing of the kind, for without any interior or exterior
words, the soul understands most clearly the object represented to her,
on what side it is, and sometimes what it signifies. But she understands
not how, or by what means, she knows this; all she knows
is, that it so happens, and she cannot tell exactly how long it lasts.
When it has passed away, in vain she endeavours to remember how it was
represented to her before. Then she knows that such an attempt would
only be an effect of the imagination, and not a representation, for this
is independant of any endeavours on our part, and so are all
supernatural things. Hence it is, that those to whom God shows these
favours esteem themselves much less and are far more humble than they
would be if no such things happened, because they see it is a favour
given to them, which cannot be taken away or bestowed by any one else
except God. Hereby their love is increased, and their desire of serving
so powerful a Lord, who can do what we cannot comprehend in this life,
just as a person may have great knowledge, which others cannot
understand. May He who is all-powerful, be praised for ever and ever.
Amen.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXII.To the Reverend Father Provincial of the Society of Jesus, in the Province of Castile.

The provincial to whom this energetic letter is addressed was Father
Saurez. The Saint mentions the cause which induced her to defend herself
against a certain false report regarding Father Gasper de Salazar. This
holy man was a Jesuit, and had been her confessor for some years; but a
rumour spread about that he was on the point of becoming a Carmelite,
and that a revelation had been made, either to him or the Saint, to
induce him to leave his illustrious order. The father provincial,
believing the report, wrote a sharp letter to the Saint, and accused her
of being the cause of this change in Father Salazar. This she
indignantly denies in the following letter. Date, 1578. Carta XX.
Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The Grace of the Holy Spirit be ever with your Reverence. Amen.

I assure you I was greatly surprised on receiving the letter, which the
Father Rector gave me on the part of your Reverence, in which you seem
to imagine that I have been persuading Father Gaspar de Salazar to
forsake the Society, and to enter our Order of Carmel, and that I had
made him understand such was the will of our Lord, as was manifested by a
revelation.

With regard to the first charge, His Majesty knows well, that so far
from persuading Father Gaspar to leave the Society, I never desired
such a thing, much less endeavoured to persuade him to it. And even
when I had heard something on the subjectâ€“(though I had not heard it
from himself)â€“I was so grieved and so angry, that it injured my health,
which at that time was very indifferent; and I heard the report only so
recently, that I think your Reverence must have heard it long before I
did.

With regard to the revelation of which you speak, you may easily see
that as he did not write to me, and I knew nothing of his intention, I
could not be aware of his having had any revelation on the subject.

But even supposing I myself had this revelation, which you call
"dreaming," I could not be so imprudent as to wish him to make so
important a change, through any such cause, neither should I have spoken
to him about it; for, thank God, I have many good friends who teach me
what credit is to be given to such revelations: nor do I believe that
Father Salazar, who is a very prudent man, would have paid any attention
to this, had there not been something more in the affair.

With respect to what your Reverence says about superiors investigating
the case, this would be a very proper thing; and you may send him your
commands, for I am very certain that when your Reverence shall give him
notice, he will do nothing without your leave. I will never disown the
sincere friendship which exists between Father Salazar and myself, nor
will I deny the favours for which I am indebted to him, though I am
convinced that his willingness to oblige me was rather a motive to
render some service to our Lord and His Blessed Mother, than any regard
he had for me, for I believe it sometimes happened that we did not write
to each other for two years together. I cannot, however, deny that the
friendship existing between us is of long standing! and every one knows
that as I was, for some time, more in want of help than I am at present
(having had at that time only two friars belonging to the Order), I
should then have had greater reasons to induce him to make this
change than I have now; for, thanks be to God, we have at this time, I
think, more than two hundred Religious, amongst whom are many persons
quite good enough for our manner of living. Never did I suppose, that
the hand of God will be more restrained to the Order of His Mother than
to other Orders.[77]

With regard to the assertion of your Reverence that I wrote certain
letters in order that it might be known I opposed the change: may God
never write, my name in the Book of Life, if ever such a thought came
across me. Let this expression be attributed to my warmth, for I think I
cannot be too earnest in trying to make your Reverence understand, that
I never treated with the Society except as one who always had their
interest at heart, and who would even expose her life to serve its
members, in everything which was in accordance with the laws of God. His
secrets are deep; and as I have not in any way been mixed up in this
affair of which you have spoken to me, so God is my witness that I have
no desire to meddle with it for the future. If the fault should be laid
on my shoulders, it will not be the first time I have suffered without
being guilty. But I know by experience, that when our Lord is pleased,
all things become easy; and never can I believe His Majesty will permit,
even for grave reasons, much less for such a trifle as this, that the
Society should go against the Order of His Mother, since He has made the
one to be instrumental in restoring and renewing the fervour of the
other. But if this evil should be allowed, I fear it may happen, that what is gained on one side may be lost in a hundred ways on the other.

We are all servants of one and the same King. God grant that the
children of the Son and the Mother may be such, as to think of nothing
but marching, like courageous soldiers, under the banner of our Captain,
that so we may accomplish His will. If the Carmelites acquit themselves
of this duty, it is certain that the fathers of the Society of Jesus
will not separate themselves from them, though I have often been
threatened with such a misfortune. May God preserve your Reverence many
years.

I know of the favours your Reverence has always shown us; and though so
miserable a sinner, I often recommend you to our Lord, and I beg of you
to do as much for me; Lord, during these last six months, afflictions
and persecutions have fallen very heavily upon this poor old body of
mine, amongst which this our misunderstanding is not the least. But,
after all, I give your Reverence my word, that I will not speak to this
father in any way about the execution of his design, nor will I allow
any one else to speak to him about it, nor have I hitherto done so.

Your Reverence's unworthy Servant and Subject,

TERESA DE JESUS.

February the 10th, 1578.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXIII.To the Reverend Father Gonzalo de Avila, of the Society of Jesus.

When the Saint addressed the following letter to this father, he was
then her confessor, and was probably the rector of a college at Avila.
Finding himself but little inclined to mental prayer, on account of his
numerous exterior duties, he declared his trouble to Saint Teresa, and
commanded her to teach him how to act amidst these his occupations, that
so they might not interfere with his interior recollection. Date, 1578.
Carta XXI. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS be with your Reverence.

It is a long time since I have been so mortified as I was to-day in
reading your letter. I am not yet so humble as to desire to be
considered so proud, nor should your Reverence be so anxious to show
your humility so much at my cost. I never felt so much inclined to tear
your letter. I assure your Reverence, you know well how to mortify me,
and make me understand what I am.[78] Does
your Reverence imagine, then, that I consider myself able to instruct
others? God deliver me from such a thought! I do not wish to think of
such a thing.

Now, however, I preceive I have committed a fault, though it may,
perhaps, be through a desire I have to see your Reverence become very
good; and from this weakness may proceed the follies of my discourse
with you, and also from the great respect I have for you, which makes me
speak with freedom, without considering what I say. Afterwards I had
some scruple respecting certain things which I said to your Reverence;
and if I were not afraid of being disobedient, I should not now comply
with what you command me, because I find great reluctance in doing so.
May God accept my submission. Amen.

One of the great defects which I have, is judging of myself in these
matters of prayer, and therefore your Reverence must not heed what I
shall say, because God may give you another talent, different
from that which He gives to a weak woman like myself. Consider the
favour bestowed on me by our Lord, of having Him actually present to me,
and how also I see, when I have to perform many duties, that neither
persecutions nor labours can disturb me so much as these[79]
do. If any business comes which requires immediate despatch, I very
generally do not retire to rest till an hour or two, and even later,
after midnight, in order that my soul may not afterwards be obliged to
attend to anything else, except to Him only whom she has present to her.
This has been very injurious to my health, and therefore it must be a
temptation, though it seems to me the soul remains more at liberty; like
one who has on hand some business of great importance and urgency, who
immediately arranges every minor affair, in order that it may not hinder
him from attending to what he considers more necessary.

And so it is a great pleasure to me, whenever I can leave anything to be
done by the sisters, though it might perhaps be done better by myself.
But should I not do it well, His Majesty supplies the deficiency. The
less attention I give to business, the more advanced I find myself in my
interior. Though I know this very clearly, yet I often neglect using
care to be released from business, and doubtless I receive some harm
thereby. I see I might do more, and employ greater diligence in this
respect, and thus do myself greater good.

What I say, however, must not be understood as applicable to affairs of
importance, which cannot be neglected; and here perhaps lies my mistake,
for such are the duties of your Reverence; and it would not be proper
to leave them to the management of another, in my opinion: but as
I see the health of your Reverence is injured by them, I wish you had
less to do. I am, however, excited to bless God, by seeing what an
interest you take in everything relating to our Order; for I am not so
weak as not to understand the high favour our Lord bestowed upon you in
having given you such a talent, and the great merit which may be gained
thereby. It makes me somewhat envious, because I wish my superior also
should have the like. Since God has given your Reverence to me as such, I
wish you would take as much care of my soul as you do of the fountain
you speak about. I am much pleased with your account of it, for it is so
necessary in the monastery, that it deserves all the attention of your
Reverence.

Nothing more remains for me to say. I assure you, I speak to you in all
truth and sincerity, as if I were speaking to God. I know that whatever
is done towards properly discharging the office of superior, is so
pleasing to God, that He gives in a short time to such a oneâ€“what he
would bestow on others only after a long period. This I know as well by
experience, as by what I have been saying. But as I see your Reverence
is in general so very busy, what I have said to you came at once into my
mind, and the more I reflect upon it, the more do I now see (as I have
said) that there is a great difference between your Reverence and
myself. I will correct myself, by not mentioning my first thoughts,
since it cost me so dear. Provided I can see you well, my temptation
will cease. May our Lord dispose everything as He can, and as I desire.

Your Reverence's Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXIV.To the Reverend Father Geronimo Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

This holy but persecuted man, to whom so many of the Saint's letters are
addressed, was thinking at one time of choosing a particular province
for the Carmelites, who were to be under the direction of a provincial.
He communicated his intention to the Saint, who, after having consulted
Father Daza and Doctor Rueda on the subject, wrote the following letter
to him, in which she forcibly endeavours to dissuade him from the
project, and advises him to have recourse to Rome. She also points out
what means he was to employ in order to succeed; and, towards the end of
the letter, she speaks of two of his sisters who were on the point of
taking the habit. Date, 1578. Carta XXII. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS be with your Reverence.

My Father,â€“After the departure of the Prior of Mancera, I spoke to
Father Daza and Doctor Rueda about your intention of making a separate
province for our reformed Carmelites, because I should not wish your
Reverence to do anything which people might take hold of, and blame you
for. Even should the undertaking succeed, this would give me more pain
than all the rest of our affairs which might not prosper without any
fault of ours. Both of them agreed in thinking that the project would be
very difficult to execute, unless your Reverence had a particular
"Commission," to empower you to establish the province. Doctor Rueda
especially urges this point very strongly; and I pay great deference to
his opinion, because I see that what he recommends always succeeds: he
is a very learned man. He says, that as it is a matter of jurisdiction,
it is very difficult to elect a provincial, because the choice belongs
either to the General or to the Pope. Hence the thing cannot be done,
for the votes would be null and void. He adds, that this would give an
opportunity to the others[80] to apply to
the Pope, and to proclaim that you were about to withdraw us from our
obedience, by making superiors when you had not the power. He also adds,
that this undertaking would be misunderstood, and he is confident that
you would have more trouble in confirming the provincial, than you would
have in obtaining leave of the Pope to make the province. If the king
were to write to his ambassador at Rome, the Pope would be glad to grant
leave;[81] for the thing could easily be
done, particularly if it were represented to his Holiness, how badly our
fathers of the reform have been treated. If any one would speak to the
king on the subject, his majesty, I am sure, would willingly write to
his ambassador, and this would be of great assistance to the reform: for
when the other fathers see that the king interests himself in your
business, they will have the more respect for you, and will be less
ready to trouble you, and less anxious to prevent the reform.[82]

I think it would be very desirable if your Reverence were to mention the matter to Father Chaves[83]
(when you give him the letter I wrote to him, and which I sent by the
prior), for he is a very sensible man: and if he would only make use of
the influence he possesses with the king, he would perhaps obtain the
favour. By this means, together with the letters given by the king, the
fathers whom you should depute would hasten to Rome on the subject. But
even should no letters be received, I should still wish them to go by
all means; for Doctor Rueda says this is the right way to manage the
business, viz., to apply directly either to the Pope or to the General. I
am confident that if Father Padilla had united with us in representing
the matter to the king, we should before now have accomplished it. Your
Reverence may yet be able to speak to him, or to the Archbishop, about
it; for if the provincial, after he has been chosen, must be confirmed
and approved by the king, it would be better first to obtain permission[84]
from the king. If we should not succeed, we shall at least be spared
the affront which would be given to us, if he were not confirmed, after
having been elected; it would also be a disgrace to us, and the
character of your Reverence might suffer if you should attempt what you
were not able to do; people would say, "you had no judgment."

The doctor says, that if the visitor of St. Dominic's Order, or if any
other Order, should make this election, there would not be so much said
about it as if you made it yourself; for as I have before said, a
person exposes himself to great danger when he meddles with matters of
jurisdiction; and it is very important that our superior should be
established by proper authority. It is with reason I dread this
undertaking, because I foresee that they will have some cause to throw
all the fault upon you, though I should not fear did they blame you
without reason; but, on the contrary, I should be the more animated to
excuse it; on this account, I have been anxious to write this letter to
you, in order that your Reverence may consider well what you are about
to do.

Do you know what I have been thinking? It is this, that perhaps our
Father General will turn against us the letters which I have written him
(though they were very good), and he may show them to the cardinals.
These thoughts suggested to me the propriety of not writing anything on
the matter, until we have seen the result: it would be also well, if an
opportunity should offer, to say something to the nuncio about it. I
perceived, my Father, when you were at Madrid, that you did a great deal
in a day; hence I think, that by speaking to different persons, and
making the ladies you know in the palace interested in the matter, and
by prevailing on Father Antonio to induce the duchess to use her
influence, you might do a great deal towards obtaining this favour from
the king, who is very desirous that the reform should be maintained.
Father Mariano, who often speaks with his majesty, might give him an
account of it, and beg of him to support it; he could also remind his
majesty, how it is now some time since that dear and holy brother, John
of the Cross,[85] has been detained in
prison. I know the king listens to every one, and I cannot imagine how
this matter has not been told to his majesty, and why Father Mariano
especially has not entreated the king to set this Father at liberty.

But what am I talking about? What nonsense am I not writing to your
Reverence, and yet you bear with my foolishness! I assure you I am
greatly troubled, at not having the liberty to do what I advise others
to do. The king is now going a great distance off: I only wish he had
done something before his departure. May God do it for He is able.

We are anxiously expecting those ladies: and our nuns are quite
confident that your Reverence's sister will stop here, and receive the
habit in this convent. The obligations you owe them are very great; so
also are mine, for though we now have a good number, and their
necessities are great, still they have an earnest desire to possess
among them something belonging to you, not reflecting on any
inconveniences. There is nothing which little Teresa does not do and
say! I shall also rejoice if this should be the case,[86]
because I could not enjoy her company so much where she is going to as I
shall do here: nay, perhaps I might never see her again, as the place
is so far distant. However, these considerations are now at an end, for
she has already been received at Valladolid, where she will do very
well. If she had not gone, the sisters would have been greatly
disappointed, especially Casilda. Juliana must remain with us (though I
say nothing about her to the sisters); for, to send her to Seville would
give too much pain to DoÃ±a Juana, her mother; and perhaps she would not
like it herself, when she grew older. How I wish to have her sister,
who is with the other young ladies! She knows not her wants, nor does
she try to improve herself: she would have more quiet here than where
she is.

My brother Lorenzo, who is going to court, will bring you this letter:
he will remain some time at Madrid, and then I believe he will go on to
Seville.

I think the prioress will write to you, and so I will say no more, only
that God may preserve your Reverence. The prioress of Alva is very ill:
pray for her, as all I can say is, that we shall lose a treasure in
losing her: she is very obedient, and when anything goes wrong, the
sisters need only speak to her, and she puts everything right. O! what
sufferings do not the poor nuns of Malagon endure, on account of
Brianda:[87] I cannot, however, help laughing, when they tell me "they wish I would return."

Madame Louisa de la Cerda's youngest daughter is dead. I feel greatly
for her, considering all the afflictions which God sends her. Her widow
daughter is now the only child left. I am sure it would be an act of
charity for your Reverence to write to her, and console her, for you
know our order is much indebted to her.

Consider whether it would be for the best, that your sister should
remain here: if your Reverence should judge otherwise, and that her
mother would like to have her nearer to her, I shall put no obstacle in
the way. I am afraid (as she has already had some intention of going to
Valladolid)â€“that she may afterwards have some temptation to go there,
for she may hear that there are comforts there, which we have not in
this house, were it only the garden, which is so much finer than ours,
for we have the most barren and wretched soil in the world. May God
preserve you, my Father, and make you a saint; this I pray for. Amen. My
arm is getting much better.

Your Reverence's unworthy Servant and Subject,

TERESA DE JESUS.

April 15th.[88]

P.S.â€“Madame Guiomar is here, and is very well: she has a great desire to
see your Reverence. She and all the nuns grieve much for Brother John
of the Cross. It is indeed a sad thing that he should be so treated. The
convent of the Incarnation goes on about the same as usual.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXV.To the Reverend Geronimo Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

This letter is the second in the Spanish ed., though it is placed as the first
in the French translation of L'Abbe Migne. Bishop Palafox praises this
letter exceedingly for its spirituality and the beautiful instructions
which it gives on the interior life. Date, 1577. Carta XXIII. Spanish
ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The Grace of the Holy Spirit be with your Reverence, My Father.

To-day I received three of your letters from the postmaster, and
yesterday Brother Alonzo brought me one. Our Lord has rewarded me well
for the trouble I was in on account of your delay in writing. May He be
for ever blessed for giving your Reverence health. I was at first
greatly alarmed at not finding any of your letters in the two packets
which came for the prioress: but my disappointment did not last long. I
beg you would mention to me what letters you receive from me, for often
you do not send an answer to what I write: and sometimes you also forget
to put the date to your letters.

In both your letters your Reverence asks me what passed in the interview
which I had with SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Juana. I sent you an account by the
courier of this place. I suppose that what you spoke of as having been
received by the way of Madrid is the answer I sent you; and so I was in
no trouble about it. I am very well. My Isabel[89]
is quite our recreation. It is wonderful to see how gay and cheerful
she is. Yesterday I received a letter from SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Juana, in which
she tells me all her family are well.

I praise our Lord exceedingly, because He prospers your affairs; but I
was greatly astonished at what Brother Alonso told meâ€“regarding what
people say about your Reverence. O! how necessary was that journey you
undertook! Had you even done nothing else, I think you were obliged in
conscience to go, for the honour of the Order. I cannot imagine how
people could publish such base calumnies. May God enlighten their minds!
If your Reverence should have any one in whom you can confide, it would
not be amiss to give them the pleasure of having another prior. But
this is a matter I do not understand. I was quite astonished that he
gave such advice, which was, in reality, to do nothing. It is very
painful for you to have one there who opposes you in everything.
However, I cannot help thinking but that (when he considers the matter
better) he will reject the advice he gave. In a word, they[90] have not been taught to desire being little esteemed.

Is it not wonderful that Paul, amidst all his occupations, should have
been able to preserve so much tranquility in treating with Joseph?[91]
I thank God for it. I hope your Reverence will tell her that she ought
to be content with her manner of prayer, and that she must not be
troubled if her understanding remain inactive, for God will favour her
in another way. Tell her also I am much pleased with her letter. It is
important to remember, as far as regards these interior things of the
Spirit, that the best prayer, and the most acceptable to God, is the
prayer which produces the best effects. I speak not now of those
many desires the soul may have, for though they are good, they are not
such as our self-love represents them sometimes. I speak of those
effects, which are confirmed by deeds;[92]
hence, we may know what desires the soul has for God's honour, by her
being truly anxious for it, by diligently employing her memory and
understanding in everything that may please Him, in order the more to
testify her love for Him.

O! this is indeed true prayer! and not those delights which tend only to
please us, and nothing more. When our prayer is not such as I have
described it, there may be found in the soul great remissness, many
fears, and some resentment against those who do not esteem her enough.
For my part, I wish to have no other prayer, but that which shall give
me an increase of virtues. Should it be accompanied with violent
temptations, dryness, and afflictions, which might make me more humble, that
I should consider to be an excellent kind of prayer; for whatever
pleases God the most, I consider to be the best kind of prayer. Let us
not imagine that he who suffers does not pray: rather does he the more
offer his troubles to God; and often does such a one pray better than
those do, who, all alone in their cell, strike their breasts again and
again,[93] and when they force themselves to shed a few tears, call that prayer.

Pardon me, Father, for having told you so many things to say to Joseph;
but the love she has for Paul will make her take them all in good part.
If you think it well to tell her what I have said, do so: if not, do not
say a word to her about the matter. I have only said what I wish for
myself. I add also, that good works and a good conscience are two
important blessings.

What your Reverence tells me about Father John pleases me much: it may
be, that the devil is anxious to do some harm, and our Lord wishes to
draw good from it. But very great care is necessary; for I am sure the
devil will try all his arts to injure Eliseus,[94]
and so he does well in thinking it comes from the evil one. I really
believe it would be well not to make much account of those things, for
if they have been sent to Brother John[95]
as a penance, I think God has given him enough. What he has already
endured is not for himself alone; for the other three, who should help
him with their advice, will soon have their share to endure too, as
Joseph foretold.

With regard to Sister San GerÃ³nimo, she must eat meat for some time, and
give up her prayer. Will your Reverence please to command her not to
consult any one but yourself, or else let her write to me; for, as her
imagination is very weak, she thinks that she sees and hears whatever
she meditates upon: sometimes, however, she may be in the right, for she
is a very good soul.

I have the same opinion of Sister Beatrix; though I cannot see that what
was written to me regarding the time of her profession could be a
fancy, but I think it quite right. Tell the prioress to exempt her from
fasting, and both of them from using prayer, at least for a time. She
may occupy them in other exercises, lest they should fall into some
greater evil. Believe me, all this is very necessary.

The loss of the letters has given me a great deal of uneasiness: you do
not tell me if those which fell into the hands of Peralta were of
consequence. Know that I now send this letter by an express messenger. I
quite envy those religious who have the good fortune to hear the
sermons delivered by your Reverence: it seems they deserve such a
consolation, and I nothing but afflictions. However I beg of God,
through His love, to send me a good many. I am sorry to hear that your
Reverence must go to Granada. I should like to know how long you will
stop there, and where I am to direct my letters to you. For the love of
God, let me hear from you before your departure. I have received no
papers with a seal attached. Send me two, for I think I shall want them.
I am aware of the trouble you have, and I wish I could help your
Reverence till you gain a little more repose. I pray God to give you as
much rest as I desire for you, and to bestow on you that holiness which
he alone can give. Amen.

Your Reverence's unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

October 23rd.[96]

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXVI.To the Reverend Father Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

The subject of this short letter relates to the daughter of some great
nobleman, who had taken the habit of the Carmelites in the convent at
Valladolid. She had a sister, also, in the convent of St. Catherine of
Sienna. But their father took them both away. In consequence of this, a
report spread in the court at Madrid injurious to the Carmelites. To
explain the real facts of the case, the Saint wrote the following
letter. Date, 1578. Carta XXIV. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS be with your Reverence.

My Father,â€“Though I have already written to you by way of Toledo, I now
write again to let your Reverence know, that to-day I received a letter
from Valladolid, which at first sight quite alarmed me. But afterwards I
considered that the judgments of God are deep; that He loves this
Order, and that He will assuredly either draw some good from this
affair, or else avert some evil which we cannot foresee. I beseech your
Reverence, then, for the love of God, not to trouble yourself about it. I
feel great compassion for the poor young lady, who I think is much to
be pitied; because it is ridiculous to assert that she was not happy
amongst us, for cheerfulness and content were visible in her face. His
Majesty does not wish we should be honoured by the great ones of this
world: He will have us associate ourselves only with the very poor, just
as the Apostles did; and so we must not be troubled by this event. As
the father has taken his other daughter also from the convent of St.
Catherine of Sienna, to live with him, we shall not lose anything by the
removal.â€“I mean, as far as regards what the world will say; and with
regard to God, it is better we should fix our eyes only upon Him.

Whatever shall happen, may God deliver us, from those grandees who can
do everything, and who have such strange notions! The poor woman did not
know what she was doing: and as to her returning again to the Order, I
think it would not be fit she should be allowed. If there be any harm
done, it may arise from the mischief which such things do to the
convents, especially at the beginning. I should not have wondered at
her leaving, had she been as unhappy as they say she was. But I consider
it impossible for her to have concealed her discontent so long, if she
felt any.

I quite compassionate the poor prioress,[97]
because she suffers by this removal, and I feel also for Mother Mary of
St. Joseph. I hope your Reverence will write to her. I am really very
sorry that you are now at so great a distance from me. I know not why I
am so attached to you: may God fill you with His grace? Give my respects
to Father Nicholas. All the sisters here send their regards to you, and
pray God to watch over you.[98]

Your Reverence's Servant and Daughter,

TERESA DE JESUS.

February 28th.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXVII.To the Reverend Father Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

This letter was written by the Saint, when the persecution which had
been directed against the reform had in a great measure passed away. She
congratulates the father on his victory over his enemies, and to him
she still alludes under the name of Paul. In order to defray the
expenses of having the Reformed Carmelites separated from the others,
the Saint mentions how she borrowed from the convent at Valladolid two
hundred crowns. At the time she wrote this letter, she had received
orders from Father Salazar to proceed to Malaga, as prioress. Date,
1579. Carta XXV. Spanish ed.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be with your Reverence.

My Father,â€“I wish the Holy Ghost may have given you, on this Feast of
Pentecost, so many of His gifts and blessings, that by their means you
might be able to discharge the numerous obligations you owe His Majesty,
who has been pleased that, at the cost of your Reverence, his daughters[99]
should be assisted. May his name be praised by all men. This affair
certainly furnishes abundant matter for reflection, and even for writing
a history. Though I am unacquainted with the particulars of the
conclusion, I believe everything passed off very well. If, however, our
Lord should allow us to have a province, it cannot be established
anywhere with more authority and precaution than in Spain; and this
clearly shows that our Lord has destined the Carmelites for greater
things than we imagine. May His Majesty grant Paul a long life, so that
he may see these great things, and labour for their accomplishment. As
for me, I hope to see them from Heaven, if ever I deserve to go there.

I have received the cheque from Valladolid, and am very glad they have
sent the money. God grant the business may soon be accomplished, for
though the Superior whom we now have is a very excellent man, yet he is
not the man for us, nor is he capable of setting things right as they should be; in a word, we may say he is borrowed for a short time.[100]

Your Reverence will see by this letter what they intend to command meâ€“a
poor old woman. According to appearances, this order may rather be the
effect of a desire on the part of the fathers,[101]
to keep me at a distance, than any necessity the Convent of Malagon can
be in, of having me as prioress: this, however, may only be a
suspicion, which has given me a little pain; not that I ever thought of
objecting to go to Malagon, though I am troubled at the idea of going
there as prioress, because I am not fit for such an office, and I fear I
should grow negligent in the service of our Lord.[102]
I hope your Reverence will pray that I may ever remain firm and
constant therein; and then as to the rest, I care not what may happen,
for the more I suffer, the more merit I shall have. In any case, I beg
of your Reverence to destroy this letter.

I am delighted to hear your Reverence enjoys such good health. But I
should not like to see you here during the hot weather. O! what a
solitude does not my soul feel day after day when I think at what a
distance I am from your Reverence, though it seems as if I were always
near Father Joseph; this reflection helps me to endure this life, though
I enjoy not the pleasures of the world: still I am happy. With regard
to your Reverence, I cannot consider you an inhabitant of this world,
since our Lord has taken away from you all temptation of attaching
yourself to it, and has given you such abundant opportunities of
arriving at Heaven. Truly, the more I think of this persecution, and of
the means our Lord has made use of to deliver you from it, the more am I
surprised. If God should please to make the Andalusians return to their
duty, I should consider it a very particular favour. But do not put
yourself to much trouble in pressing them, as matters have taken a
better turn; and this is what I always desired.

I was much pleased on reading the letter which Father Nicalo wrote be me
on this matter, and on this account I send the letter to your
Reverence. All the sisters desire to be kindly remembered to you. The
thought of my going away is the only thing which grieves them. I will
let your Reverence know the result. Recommend, for love of us, this
matter earnestly to our Lord. You remember now what people used so
unkindly to say against my journeys, undertaken for the foundations of
the convents, and you know who those people are. Consider what a life
mine has been! Still this matters but a little.

I mentioned to the Father Vicar[103] the
inconveniences that would arise from my being prioress because I could
not follow the rules of the community; but that as regards all the rest,
I had no difficulty, for I should be willing to go to the end of the
world if obedience commanded me: nay, I believe that the greater the
labour and trials were, the more should I rejoice in doing something for
this great God to whom I am so much indebted; and above all, I know
that what is done through obedience, is the best means of pleasing Him.
As to obeying Paul, it were enough to know I gave him pleasure, to make
me do with joy all that he commands me. I could mention several with the
same disposition; but I am afraid of saying too much in this letter,
especially on matters relating to the soul. I send your Reverence those
verses which the nuns of the Incarnation composed; they may make you
laugh a little, though the afflictions of that house may rather make you
weep. The poor creatures endeavour to lessen their troublesâ€“by amusing
themselves with writing verses. My journey to Malagon they consider as
something very important, for they (as well as myself) hope to see that
convent established in peace and tranquillity.

The nuns of Valladolid have very willingly given 200 ducats,[104]
and the prioress would have borrowed this sum had it been necessary:
she sent me 200 ducats also, making altogether 400, which I have
received. She has done a great deal for us, and is an excellent manager
of the affairs of her convent. I have written to thank her. SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a
Juana made me laugh, and at the same time surprised me by telling me in a
letter, "that she felt some uneasiness in giving the money without
having first told you." She had no reason, I am sure, to be afraid, for,
as regards Sister Mary of St. Joseph, I have always known her to be
just and upright: she has a great esteem for your Reverence.

May God preserve you, my Father. Amen. Amen. Give my respects to the
Father Rector, and to the father who wrote to me the other day.
Yesterday was the last day of the feast of Pentecost. Mine is not yet
arrived.

Your Reverence's unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXVIII. To the Reverend Father Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

This letter was written while the Saint was engaged in the foundation of
Palencia. The chronicles of the Order inform us of a great difference
which arose between the nuns of Alva and their foundress. Of this the
Saint speaks in the present letter. As a chapter was also about to be
held at AlcalÃ¡, in order to establish a separate province, the Saint
wrote to several of the superiors who intended to be present, and gave
them very important advice on several points. This is one of the letters
she wrote to Father Gracian on that occasion. Date, 1581. Carta XXVI.
Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS be with your Reverence. Amen.

By this letter your Reverence will be made acquainted with the
difference which has arise between the nuns of Alva and their foundress.
They begin to fear her, because she has made them receive novices, who
have reduced them to great want. I see, therefore, it will be difficult
to restore tranquillity amongst them; hence, it is necessary your
Reverence should be made acquainted with everything that has passed.

Do not forget to command all our Houses to observe the constitutions
with regard to the opening of the grate; and they should also be
informed what kind of persons may be admitted, that so it may not appear
you wish to put the nuns under more restraint than is necessary. I fear
more the loss of that great joy which our Lord gives them than all the
rest, for I know what a discontented Religious suffers. There is no
necessity to require more of them than they have promised, provided they
give no more occasion for using severity than they do at present.

They should not see the confessors with the grate open, nor the
Religious of any order, much less those of our reform. But they may
explain the constitutions in favour of an uncle or some near relation,
who acts as a father towards them: the relaxation would then be just.
They may plead also in favour of a duchess, countess, or a person of
high dignity; in a word, where there can be no danger to themselves, and
where others may derive some spiritual profit. Excepting these cases,
the nuns should never speak with the grate open. But if any other case
should occur, where there may be a doubt, they ought then to consult the
provincial and ask his leave; otherwise they should never open the
grate. I fear, however, the provincial will easily give them leave. But
it seems not to be a difficult matter to speak on spiritual matters,
without opening the grate. Your Reverence will judge what should be done
for the best.

I earnestly hope the nuns of Alva may soon receive some novice, that
will help them to repay the money they have spent in the building. May
God so order this, as He sees their wants. The nuns here are all well,
for they have abundance of everything, I mean exterior goods: but as far
as regards interior pleasure, these temporal goods contribute but
little hitherto: far greater comfort is to be found in poverty.

May His Majesty make us understand this truth: I beseech him also to make your Reverence a great saint. Amen.

Your Reverence's unworthy Servant and Subject,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXIX.To the Reverend Father Ambrosio Mariano, of St. Benedict, Carmelite.

Father Mariano was one of the first founders of the reform. On account
of his great talents he was employed by King Philip II. in many
important affairs of state. It seems by this letter, that he had been
requested by Father Olea, a Jesuit, to write to St. Teresa in favour of a
novice, whom the Saint's own Religious had refused to profess, because
they did not consider her fit for their Order. In this letter the Saint
displays great tact, judgment, and firmness, and by various powerful
reasons she tries to convince Father Mariano that it would be wrong to
comply with his request. Other matters are also discussed, which clearly
show us what rare talents the saint had for business, and with what
prudence and good sense her advice was always seasoned. Date, 1576.
Carta XXVIII. Spanish ed.

JESUS. MARY. The grace of the Holy Spirit be with your Reverence.

It clearly appears that your Reverence is not aware of my obligations to
Father Olea, and of the affection I have for him, since you write to me
respecting an affair of which he has already spoken to me, and still
speaks about. I think you know I am not ungrateful, and therefore I
assure your Reverence, that if this business could have been
accomplished by the loss of my health and restâ€“it should have been done.
But when it is a matter of conscience, no friendship is sufficient,
because I owe more to God than to any one else.

Would to God there were no other inconvenience than not having a dowry,
for your Reverence knows well (and if not, you may be informed), how
many Religious there are in our monasteries, without any fortune; but
five hundred ducats is a good sum, and with this she might become a
religious in any convent. Father Olea does not know the nuns of our
houses, and hence I am not surprised at his incredulity. But I, who am
convinced they are the servants of Godâ€“I, who know too the purity of
their souls, do not believe they would ever deprive a person of the
habit, without they had sufficient reasons for doing so, for I know the
scruples they are accustomed to have in things of this nature. As they
were resolved not to admit her, they must have had good reasons.
Moreover, as we are so few, the trouble which such persons give, when
they are unfit for the Order, is so very great, that even a wicked conscience would be scrupulous in admitting such; with how much greater reason, then, would a soul refuse, who wishes not to displease our Lord in anything. I beg your Reverence to tell me how I can force the sisters to receive a person, if they refuse her their votes? No superior can possess such power.

Do not imagine that Father Olea has a personal interest in this matter,
for he tells me she is no more to him than a stranger in the street. My
sins have caused him to think of exercising his charity in an affair
which cannot be accomplished; and I am very sorry I cannot serve him
therein. Even were the thing feasible, it would not certainly be showing
any kindness to the young woman, to make her live amongst people who
had no regard for her. I have done more than was reasonable in this
matter, as I have obliged the nuns to keep her another year, much
against their will, in order to try her a little more; and that when I
shall pass through Salamanca and go to the convent in which she is, I
may be informed of everything about her. This I have done to oblige
Father Olea, and that he may be more satisfied. I know well the
Religious do not tell lies; and your Reverence also must know, that
lying, even in trivial matters, is abhorred by our sisters.

Your Reverence must also know, that it is no new thing for novices to
leave our houses; this is very common; hence she will not lose anything
by saying, that her health would not allow her to support the rigour of
our Order; and I have never known any one lose her good name by leaving
our Houses.

This affair will teach me henceforth to consider well beforehand what I
do. For example, the lady recommended to us by SeÃ±or Nicolao cannot be
received, though she would receive your approbation, for I know from
another quarter she is not a proper subject; and I do not wish to make
enemies, in order to please my friends and supporters.

It seems strange your Reverence should ask me why I began to speak on
the matter at all. We should never receive any Religious, if we did not
first correspond on the subject. And besides, I spoke about it, because I
was desirous of obliging SeÃ±or Nicolao. But I was told things quite
different from the truth, as I afterwards learnt; and I am sure he is
more solicitous for the welfare of our Houses than for the good of any
one person; for this reason he did not insist on the lady being
received.

I beg of your Reverence, for the love of God, not to trouble yourself
any more about this matter; for as she has a good fortune, she may
easily be received in some other convent: this will be much better for
her, than to enter our Order, where, as the sisters are so few, they
ought all to be select. And if hitherto we have not been so
particular in this respect with regard to some, whose names could easily
be mentioned, we have acted thereby so ill that we shall take more
pains for the future. Do not be the cause of our quarrelling with SeÃ±or
Nicolao, for his request will certainly be refused.

Your Reverence made me smile by saying, that you could tell her
character by only seeing her. But we women are not so easily known; for,
after having been for so many years under the direction of our
confessors, they are often surprised to see how little they know about
us. This proceeds from our not knowing how to confess our faults
properly, and confessors only judge of us by what we tell them. In a
word, my father, when you wish to bestow any favours on our Houses,
recommend proper subjects to us,[105] and
your Reverence will see we shall not quarrel about the dowry. But if
they should not be suitable for our Order, I cannot be of service to you
in anything,

Your Reverence should know that I consider it very easy to have a house
here for the accommodation of religious men; and I believe it would not
be difficult (even without its being a monastery) to obtain leave to
have mass said there, just as leave is often given to a private
gentleman who has an oratory in his house. I have mentioned this to our
father:[106] but he repliedâ€“"I must not
think of such a thing, for it would injure the undertaking." I think he
was right: and as your Reverence now knows what he wishes, you should
not allow so many Religious to be together, and much less prepare a
church for them, as if you had obtained leave: this has made me laugh.
As for myself, I should not even purchase a house, if I had not the
permission of the bishop. As I had not taken this precaution at Seville,
you know what it cost me. I often told your Reverence not to do
anything, without having obtained a letter from the Nuncio to give you
permission.

When Don GerÃ³nimo told me you were going to see the Calced [107]
Fathers, I was quite surprised. I am far from having (at least just
now) the same confidence in them that your Reverence seems to have. I do
not allude to Valdemoro [108] only. I
suspect him much, for I believe he is not at all well disposed towards
us; for, under the mask of friendship, his only object seems to be to
pry into our affairs and make them known to his friend. I wish your
Reverence had the same mistrust, so as not to put any confidence in him:
do not desire to make use of such friends in this business. Leave it in
the hands of God, for it is His affair, and His Majesty will accomplish
it in His own good time. Do not hurry yourself, for thus you might do
harm.

I assure your Reverence that Don Diego Mexia is a very good gentleman,
who will perform what he says: and as he has determined to speak on the
matter, his cousin is almost sure not to refuse him anything: be assured
that what his cousin does not do for him, he will not do for his aunt.
It is useless, then, to write to her, or to any other person, for they
are very near relations; and the friendship of Don Diego Mexia is
greatly to be esteemed. It is a good sign that the archdeacon has
offered to present our request, for had he not fair hopes of succeeding,
he would not have undertaken the commission. The business is now in
very good training: do not hasten it, or be too anxious about it, for
this might do more harm than good. Let us leave the management of it to
Don Diego and the archdeacon.

I shall not fail to enquire here if there be any one who could make the
request; and also if the dean can do anything in the matter. Madame
Louisa will do all she can with him. I am delighted on seeing what a
favourable turn the matter has taken; and this makes me believe the more
that the foundation will be very pleasing to God, since He has done
everything without our having contributed anything thereto, for neither
the establishment, nor the permission to say mass, is in our power. It
is, however, a great thing that we have a house; and sooner or later we
shall obtain leave to say mass. If the Nuncio had given leave, the
business would soon have been accomplished. May our Lord grant him
health, for we stood in need of him. Father Tostado does not lose
courage; but I am afraid the Nuncio will not make use of him.

With regard to the affair at Salamanca, Father Juan de Jesus is so ill
with the quartan ague, that I know not how he can do anything, nor does
your Reverence mention in what way the Religious can be useful. With
respect to the college there, let us begin with what is necessary, viz.
to obtain leave from the Nuncio: had he given it the matter would have
been finished; but if we make a false step in the beginning, then
everything goes wrong. The object of the bishop, is, in my opinion, to
find some one to replace SeÃ±or Juan Dias, of whose imprisonment he had
heard. But I am sure our Order does not allow our Religious to act for
others, and I think it is not proper: and even though this could be
done, what good could be effected, since they would have to leave in
less than two months? Such a proceeding would only serve to provoke the
bishop. Besides, how do we know if our Father would succeed in this
matter? They might, perhaps, wish them to aim at great perfection and
mortification, and this might not be suitable for such persons: indeed, I
know not if the bishop would be pleased with the Religious, should they
undertake the office.

I assure your Reverence there is more to do than you imagine, and
perhaps we shall lose more than we gain. I think it is not very
advantageous for our Order to have Religious to act as confessors for
others, and the bishop does not wish them to be such. The world should
know them only as hermits given to contemplation, and not as persons
running here and there to confess women of that character. I think
people would be scandalized, even though the Religious had no other
object but to draw them from their evil life.

I mention all these difficulties, in order that your Reverence may
consider them well, and see what is best to be done. In this point I
submit my judgment to yours, which is so much superior to mine. Your
Reverence may allow Doctor Padilla and SeÃ±or Juan Diaz to read my
letter, because I know nothing more than what I have written to you. We
shall always be sure of having the bishop's leave. Without that I have
little confidence in SeÃ±or Don Teutonio[109] as a negotiator. I know his good-will, but I am certain he has but little influence.

I am expecting I shall have to go to Madrid, in order to give life to
the project of a foundation there, for I am a good negotiator when there
is occasion: (if you do not believe this, inquire of my friend
Valdemoro).[110] I should be glad to make a
foundation there, and I should be sorry if we did not succeed through
want of using our endeavours, and making use of the means that might
enable us to succeed. I often wished to have a convent in that city,
because of its proximity to the court. I am pleased that the other
design is given up of founding a house at Salamanca, for at present I
see no probability of succeeding. Should the worst come, the foundation
would be better at Malagon; and Madame Louisa has a great desire to go
there.

In the course of time she will bestow many charities upon us; and in the
neighbourhood there are many small towns, in which there is abundance
of food. This will serve as a good excuse to give up the other house,
for people will say we have transferred it to Malagon, and they will not
know you have abandoned it altogether: they may fancy you will return
to it again, when the house is built, for it does not look well to take a
house to-day, and to leave it to-morrow.

I gave Don GerÃ³nimo the letter which I wrote to Don Diego Mexia. He will
forward it, together with another that was sent for Count de Olivares. I
will write to him again when I see it necessary. I hope your Reverence
will take care to refresh his memory; for I assure you, once more, that
if he told you he would undertake the task and speak to the archdeacon
about it, you may consider the matter as accomplished, since his word
can be depended upon.

I have just received a letter from him about a young person to whom he
begs I will give the habit, and the mother of the Father Visitor speaks
very well of her. Would to God that those whom we refuse had the same
good qualities as this person seems to have: we should then not fail to
receive them. While I am now writing, I have thought I should not do
wrong were I to say something to Don Diego respecting this other affair,
under pretext of speaking to him about the young woman, and recommend
it again to his care: this I shall certainly do. Will your Reverence
please to give him this letter, and may God be ever with you. I have
written such a long letter, as if I had nothing else to do; I have not
written to the prior, because I have so many other letters to send off;
and also because the good father may consider this as written to
him. Give my very kind regards to Father Padilla: I praise God for the
good health he enjoys. May His Majesty be ever with your Reverence. I
will endeavour to procure the writing, even though I should be obliged
to speak to Valdemoro, and I cannot express myself more strongly, for I
don't believe he will do anything for us. This is the Feast (of the
eleven thousand[111]) Virgins.

Your Reverence's unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

P.S. Before Diego arrived, I received the other letters from your
Reverence. I beg you would send by the first opportunity this letter,
addressed to our father (Gracian): it is to obtain permission. I have
told him nothing about the business, but I trust your Reverence will do
so.

In order that you may see how much more active my nuns are than your
Reverence, I send you a few lines written by Mother Annie of Jesus,
Prioress of Veas. Well, you see she has found a good house for our
fathers of PeÃ±uela. She has given me great pleasure. I'll engage your
Reverence would not have done the business so quickly! She has given the
habit to a young lady, who has brought for her dowry seven thousand
ducats. She is soon to receive two others, who have as great a fortune
as the former. A lady of rank, niece to Count de Tendilla, has also
taken the habit. She has brought with her a great quantity of plate,
consisting of candlesticks, table services, reliquaries, crosses, and
many other valuable things which it would take too long to mention. But a
law-suit is now going on, as you will see by these letters. I trust
your Reverence will consider what is to be done in the matter. Perhaps
it would be the best to speak of it to Don Antonio, and to convince him
that the height of the grates, while useful to us, cannot be injurious
to them. In a word, see what can be done in this matter. May His Majesty
be ever with your Reverence.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXX.To SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother to the Saint.

Letter 3. Two other letters, which the Saint wrote to her Brother, have
been translated, and may be read at the end of the "Interior Castle,"
among several other letters. This letter will be considered very
valuable and interesting. She confirms her brother in his intention of
returning into Spain from the West Indies, where he had been living for
some time. She gives him an account of the progress her reform had made,
and tells him some news about his family. She also consoles him for the
loss of his wife, &c. Date, 1575. Carta XXX. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. May the Holy Spirit be ever with you. Amen.

I wrote to you by four different ways, and in the third I sent a letter
to SeÃ±or GerÃ³nimo de Cepeda. As then you must have received some of my
letters, I do not think it necessary to answer all you said. Neither
shall I say anything now, respecting the good resolution with which our
Lord has inspired you, and for which I praise His Majesty exceedingly, I
certainly think you have done quite right. I judge by the reasons which
you mention as having induced you to take this resolution, that there
may be many others also. I trust in our Lord it may tend to His greater
glory. We continually pray in our monasteries for your safe return: for
since your intention is to serve God, may His Majesty direct everything
for your greater good, and the welfare of your children.

I have already informed you that six convents for the nuns of our Order,
and two monasteries for the fathers, have been founded, in which great
progress is made towards perfection. The houses for the sisters are
founded on the model of St. Joseph's at Avila, so that they seem to be
one and the same establishment. I am exceedingly comforted on beholding
how truly and perfectly our Lord is served by them, and with what purity
of soul they praise Him.

I am now at Toledo, and on the eve of the Annunciation of our Lady; it
will be a year since I came here, though I made a journey to a town
belonging to Ruigomez, Prince of Eboli, called Pastrana: here were
founded a monastry for our fathers, and a convent for nuns, both of
which are going on well. I returned here to arrange what remained to be
done in this house, for it is in a fair way of becoming one of our
principal establishments. I have enjoyed much better health this winter
than I have for a long time, because the air of this part of the country
is so pure. If I did not see it would be inconvenient for you to
educate your children here, I was thinking of inviting you to come and
settle in this place, on account of the mildness of the climate. But
there are many small towns around Avila, where you can pass the winter
as several others do. With regard to my brother GerÃ³nimo de Cepeda, I
think that if God should conduct him back to this country, he will enjoy
better health here. However, all depends on the will of our Lord. I am
confident I have not had such good health for these last forty years, as
I have just now; for I observe the rules as all the rest do, and never
eat flesh-meat, unless compelled to do so by great necessity.

It is now about a year ago since I had the quartan ague; but it left me
in a better state than it found me. I was then engaged in the foundation
at Valladolid, where I was almost killed by the kindness of SeÃ±ora
Maria de Mendoza, widow of the Secretary Cobos:[112]
she has a great affection for me. Hence, God gives us health when He
sees it necessary for us: but if it be not necessary, He sends us
sickness. May He be praised for all things. I was sorry to hear you had
sore eyes. Thank God you are now better.

Juan de Ovalle [113] has already informed
you of his journey. One of my friends gave him such good directions,
that he drew the money the same day he arrived there. He has brought it
here, and at the end of this month of January it will be given to those
you mentioned. In my presence was made out the amount of duty which must
be paid to the king: you will find it in this packet. I have used no
small diligence to gain a knowledge of these matters; and I have become
such a woman of business, by means of these foundations, and other
business belonging to the Order, that I know a little of everything. And
as I consider your affairs to be the same as those of our Lord, I
am glad to have something to do with them. Lest I forget, I must tell
you that since I wrote to you last, Cueto's son has died: he was quite
young. You see then there is nothing certain in this life. It gives me
great comfort every time I reflect, how deeply persuaded you are of this
truth.

After I shall have finished the business which detains me here, I should
be glad to return to our convent at Avila, of which I am still
prioress, in order not to offend the bishop, to whom both I myself and
the whole Order are so much indebted. But I know not how our Lord will
dispose of me; and I am also uncertain whether I shall return to
Salamanca, where a house is offered to me; for though I suffer great
fatigue in these journeys, yet the benefit which the people derive in
all the towns where our convents are established is so very
considerable, that my confessors oblige me in conscience to found as
many as possible. Our Lord too assists the undertakings in so wonderful a
manner, that I am thereby encouraged to persevere.

In my other letter I forgot to tell you how many advantages you could
have in Avila, to give a good education to your children. The Fathers of
the Society[114] possess a college there,
in which grammar and other useful things are taught: the scholars go to
confession every eight days, and they become so virtuous, that I am
thereby excited to praise our Lord. Philosophy and theology are also
taught in the College of St. Thomas; and hence without leaving the
place, you can find every help requisite for the acquisition both of
virtue and of learning. The people there are in general so devout, that
those who come from other places are quite edified. Great numbers are
devoted to mental prayer, and frequent the sacrament of penance: several
of them are lay-persons, and yet they lead lives of great perfection.
Among them is the good Francisco Salcedo.

You have bestowed a great favour upon me, in sending Cepeda such a fine
present; he cannot thank you sufficiently for it. He is truly a holy
man, and in calling him such, I only speak the truth. It is now about a
year ago since Pedro de el Peso died; he was very old, and his career
was praiseworthy, Ana de Cepeda is much obliged for the alms you sent
her: with that she will be rich, for as she is so very good, many other
persons are kind to her. There are many places in which she could live;
but her character is so strange as to make her unfit for society. Still
this is the way along which God leads her. However, I could never
venture to take her into any of our houses, not that she is wanting in
virtue, but because I thought that the state in which she lives is
fitter for her; hence I assure you, that she will not remain either with
DoÃ±a Maria, or with any one else; and this suits her purpose very well.

Her life seems to resemble that of a hermit, and she has the goodness and austerity of one.

The son of SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Maria, my sister who, is married to Martin de
Guzman, has made his profession, and makes great progress in holiness. I
have already informed you of the death of DoÃ±a Beatrix, and that her
daughter, DoÃ±a Madalena, who was the youngest, is now a pensioner in a
convent. I earnestly wish God would call her to the religious life; she
is a very excellent young woman. It is now a long time since I have seen
her. At present her friends talk of marrying her to a widower, who is
the eldest in his family;[115] but I know not how the affair will end.

I believe I also told you that the favour you bestowed on my sister was
done just at the time she stood in need of it, for I have been quite
astonished at all the troubles and afflictions our Lord has been pleased
to send her; but she has borne them very patiently, and I believe that
for this reason our Lord now wishes to give her some relief. As for
myself, I want nothing, for I have more than is necessary. I shall
therefore give my sister part of the alms you sent me, and the rest I
shall spend in good works for your intention. I was, however, very glad
to receive part of this money, on account of certain scruples which I
had, for in these foundations many circumstances happen which require me
to spend something, however careful I may be, and sometimes I spend all
I have on these foundations; yet I know I might give less than I do in
certain matters, about which I consult learned men (for, to such I
always mention the affairs of my soul), though no doubt I often consult
them about mere trifles. The money you sent me was a great relief to me,
for it spared me the unpleasantness of borrowing, though many would
have assisted me. When I owe nothing, I am more at liberty to act with
these individuals and to explain my affairs to them. The world is
self-interested, that for this very reason I have a horror of riches,
and I am glad I possess none. If I give something to our Order, my
conscience will not reproach me, for I shall give it with a good
intention: besides I have received permission from the general and the
provincial both to receive nuns, to change them, and to help one house
with the means belonging to another.

People are so blind as to have a good opinion of me, and I know not the
reason of it: but I stand so high in their esteem, that they would lend
me any sum of money, however great.[116]
Hence at the very time that I have the greatest aversion both to money
and to business, our Lord seems to wish to encumber me with it more than
ever, and this is no little cross to me. May His Majesty be pleased
that I may serve Him in everything, for all will one day come to an end.

It will be a great pleasure for me to see you here, for I receive so
little from everything in this world, that our Lord will perhaps be
pleased to grant me this comfort, that so we may both unite together, to
labour for his honour and glory, and the good of souls, for I am quite
grieved to see so many souls lost; and these poor Indians[117]
cost me many tears. May our Lord enlighten them, since there and
everywhere there are many miseries. This I know too well; for as I
visit many places, and speak to many persons, I am often able to say,
that we are worse than beasts, because we know not the high
dignity of our Lord, which we debase by being too much attached to the
things of this world. May our Lord give us grace to do better.

You may consult Father Garcia of Toledo, who is nephew to the viceroy,
and whom I regret much not having here for my affairs. If you should
want him for anything, you may easily have recourse to him, for he is an
excellent Christian: I consider it a great blessing that he accepted
the charge and went there. I have enclosed a letter for him in the
packet I sent you, together with some relics for your journey: I
sincerely hope they will arrive safe.

I did not think of writing such a long letter. I am anxious you should
understand what a favour God has bestowed upon you, in having beheld the
holy death which SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Juana made.[118]
All of us here have recommended her to the mercy of our Lord: and
obsequies have been performed for her repose in all our houses, so that I
hope in God she now stands in no need of our prayers. Try as much as
possible to drive away your sorrow; and take care you be not of the
number of those who, do not remember there is another life which endures
for ever: grieve not then for those who, being delivered from the
miseries of this life, go to enjoy the happiness of the next. Remember
me very kindly to my brother GerÃ³nimo de Cepeda: tell him he must
consider this letter as written to himself. I am much pleased to hear
that he is making arrangments to return here in a few years: I hope he
will be able, if possible, to bring his family with him, and not leave
his children there. It would be much better to have them all together,
so that we may help each other (to serve our Lord), and then we shall
one day be united for ever in heaven.

Most of the masses have already been said, and the rest will be offered
as soon as possible. I have received a young person as a religious,
though she had no dowry; and I have willingly given up my bed to her,
and offered this charity to God, that He would please to bring you and
your children here in safety. Remember me to them. I have received
another also, and have offered the charity to God for GerÃ³nimo de
Cepeda, I have received several in this way, because they are spiritual
persons, and thus our Lord sends us others to supply for those who have
no money.

Some have entered our house at Medina, who brought eight hundred ducats, and another has been received here,[119]
who had nine thousand, and this sum she gives to the convent, without
my having asked her for anything. There are so many like these, that I
praise our Lord exceedingly. As soon as a young person begins to be
devoted to prayer, she has no other desire than to come amongst us. But
in all our houses, we never have more than thirteen sisters, because our
constitutions do not allow us to ask for anything, and we live only
upon what we receive at the grate,[120] and this is sufficient for us, hence we cannot have many religious. I am sure you would be much pleased to see our convents.

Your unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS, Carmelite.

January 17th, 1570.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXXI.To SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother of the Saint.

Letter 4th. The Saint blames her brother for promising to yield
obedience to her in the government of his soul, and answers several
questions concerning prayers, penances, &c. She also explains some
verses which she sends him. Date 1577. Carta XXXII. Spanish ed., vol. i.

JESUS be with you.

With regard to the secret, so far as it concerns me I did not mean to say it obliges under sin,
for to this I am very much opposed, nor need you pay any attention to
such a thing. It is sufficient for you to know that it gives me pain.
With respect to your promise, my confessor has told me it is invalid,
and this has made me very glad, since I have been in some anxiety.

Concerning the promise of obedience which you made me I told him it
seemed to me very extravagant. He replied, "it was good," provided you
did not bind yourself by vow, either to me or to any one else. I accept
of it, therefore, only on this condition, though not without some
dislike. But I will not dwell on this matter, in order, to console you. I
am much pleased to see how Father John of the Cross understands all
that you mention to him, for he is a man of great experience: even
Francisco[121] has a little, but he has no
knowledge or experience of these favours which God bestows upon you. May
He be blessed for ever and ever. We are both in good health at present.

Our Lord still continues His mercies. Methinks He is pleased to show His
greatness by exalting to such high favour such wretched creatures, for I
know none so wicked as you and I. You must understand that for these
last eight days I have been in such a state, that should it continue, I
could hardly attend to so many affairs. Just before I wrote to you, my
raptures have come on again; and this gives me great trouble, because
they sometimes happen in public, and while I am at matins. To resist is
not sufficient, nor can they be concealed. I am so ashamed that I could
hide myself I know not where. I earnestly beg of God to deliver me from
having them in public; and do you also pray for me, for they are
attended with many inconveniences, and it seems to me that prayer does
not consist in having them at all. On those days I am almost like one
drunk:[122] still I am well able to perceive
that the soul is in a good state, and thus, as the faculties are not
free, it is painful to attend to anything more than to what the soul
wishes.

For about a week before these happened, I was in such a state, that
often I was not able to have one good thought, but rather was filled
with very great aridity. But yet, in some respect, I felt much pleasure,
for I had been some days before just as I am now; and it is an extreme
source of delight, so clearly to see what little we can do of ourselves.

Blessed be He who can do all things. Amen. I have said enough. The rest
cannot be written in a letter, nor spoken. It is just that we praise our
Lord, one for the other; at least you must do so for me, since I am unable to give Him all the thanks which I owe Him, and therefore I require great help.

With regard to what you say you have felt, I do not know what advice to
give you; it is certainly more than can be well understood, and is the
beginning of great good, except you should lose it again by your own
fault. I have already passed through that kind of prayer in which the
soul sometimes enjoys repose, and then, at other times, it excites her
to perform some penances. Especially, if it be a strong impetuosity, it
seems intolerable, unless the soul employ herself in doing something for
God. It is a stroke of Divine love[123]
which He gives the soul; and if this goes on increasing, you will then
understand that part of the stanza which you say you do not now
comprehend. It is a violent pain and grief, without our knowing why
we feel it, and yet it is a very delicious pain. And though it must be
in reality a wound which Divine love makes in the soul, yet she knows
not whence, nor how it comes, nor whether it be a wound,
nor what it is. Only a pleasant pain is felt, which makes her complain,
and therefore she says:â€“

"Thou woundest, yet not offendest,

And without pain away takest

All love we have for creatures "[124]

And when the soul is in reality wounded with this love of God, the love
she has for creatures is removed without any pain (I mean in such a way,
that the soul is not tied by any love for them): but this could not be
done, did not the soul possess this love of God; for if we love
creatures too much, anything connected with them gives us pain, and much
more when we part with them. But when God takes up His abode in the
soul, He begins to give her dominion over all created things; and though
this presence and delight pass away (which is the thing you complain
of), as if there had been nothing with regard to the perception thereof
by the senses, to which God has been pleased to give some part of the
soul's joy; yet God does not abandon her, nor does He fail to enrich her
with His graces, as may in course of time be seen by the effects.

Make no account of those troubles which you mention; and though I have
never experienced them, because God in His goodness has always preserved
me from such trials, yet I conceive they must proceed from this cause,
viz., the delight of the soul being so great, it causes some emotions
outwardly: but these, with the Divine blessing, will grow less and less,
provided you make no account of them. Some persons have spoken to me on
this matter. Those tremblings[125] will
all go away, for the soul is terrified, because they are new to her, and
she thinks she has reason to be so: but the oftener these things
happen, the better disposed will she be to receive favours. Do all you
can to resist these tremblings or perform some exterior action, lest you
should contract a habit, which would only hinder, instead of helping
you.

With regard to the heat which you say you feel, it neither does
good nor harm: if it be too much, it may rather injure your health
somewhat. But this also may perhaps leave you, like the tremblings.
These things are (as far as I can judge) in a great measure
constitutional; and as you are of a sanguine temperament, the powerful
emotions of the Spirit, joined with the natural heat which mounts up and
gathers round the heart, may be the cause of these effects. But, as I
have said, these can add nothing more to your prayer.

I believe I have already given you an answer as to what you said about
remaining afterwards as if nothing had happened. I know not if it be St.
Augustine who says: "That the Spirit of God passes without leaving any
mark, like an arrow which leaves none in the air." I remember now that I
sent you an answer, for I have received a great number of letters since
I read yours: and even now I have to write so many answers, that I can
hardly find time to send this off. At other times, the soul continues in
such a state, that she cannot return to herself for many days, and she
seems to resemble the sun, whose rays give heat, and yet the sun is not
seen: thus it appears as if the soul dwelt somewhere else, and animated
the body without being in it, because some faculty is suspended.

Thanks be to God, you go on very well in the method you employ for
meditation,â€“I mean when you do not enjoy quietude. I know not if I have
answered everything, for I am always obliged to read your letter over
again, which is so small loss of time, and now I cannot read it except
by little and little. You need not take this trouble with the letters
which you write to me. I never do it with mine. If some letters or words
should be wanting, put them in, as I shall do the same to yours, for we
can easily understand what each other wishes to say; hence, to peruse
the letters over again, would be loss of time for no purpose.

When you cannot recollect yourself properly in the time of prayer, or
when you are desirous of doing something for our Lord, I send you this
hair-shirt, which will powerfully revive your love. But I send it on
this condition, that you do not wear it after you have dressed yourself, nor when you go to bed.

It may be applied to any part of the body, in such a way as to give you
some pain. But I recommend mortification with some fear. As you are of a
sanguine temperament, anything might heat your blood; but yet the
pleasure is so great which is produced by doing something for God (even
should it be a mere nothing, like this is), that I earnestly wish you to
try this penance. When the winter is over, you shall do a little more,
for I intend taking care of you. Write, and tell me how you like this "trifling"
mortification,â€“such I call it, for when we sincerely desire to exercise
judgment against ourselves, and remember what our Lord suffered for us,
it is indeed trifling. I cannot help smiling, to see how you send me
sweetmeats, delicacies, and money, and I send you a hair-shirt!

Our Father Visitor is in good health, and visits the convents. It is
wonderful to see how quiet he keeps the province, and how much he is
beloved. The method of prayer, the virtue, and the talents which God has
given him, shine pre-eminently. May His Majesty be with you, and
preserve you, for I can hardly stop when I am speaking to you. All send
their very kind regards to you, and I the same. Always consult Francisco
de Salcedo concerning my affairs. You have reason to love him, for he
is a saint. My health is very good.

Your unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

January 17th.

P.S.â€“Send to the bishop, and ask him for the book, for I may perhaps
wish to finish it, together with what our Lord has since given to me.
This would make matter enough for another book, and a large one, too, if
our Lord should wish me to finish it: if not, the loss will be but
small.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXXII.To Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother of the Saint.

Letter 5th. In this letter the Saint gives her brother an account of her
health, and also some spiritual advice. Several other matters are
likewise mentioned. Date, 1577. Carta. XXXIII. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS be with you.

I have recovered from the weakness which I felt the other day; but since
then, as I thought I had the bile, and I was afraid lest this might
prevent me from fasting during Lent, I took some physic. The same day
there came so many letters, and I had so much business on hand, that I
was obliged to be writing till after midnight. This gave me the
headache; however, I may gain by it, for the doctor has ordered me never
to write beyond midnight, and sometimes to get others to write for me.
Indeed, the trouble which I have had in this way during the winter has
been very great, and I am much to blame; for, in order not to be
disturbed in the morning, my sleep paid for it;[126]
and then, as I had to write after my vomiting, everything helped to do
me harm. But though on that day I took the physic my sickness was very
violent, yet I think I am now getting better. Do not then trouble
yourself, for I take great care of myself. I mention this circumstance,
in order that if you should receive some of my letters not in my
handwriting, and much shorter than usual, you may know what is the
reason.

I treat myself as well as I can, and I am displeased with the present
you sent me: I had much rather you had eaten it yourself, as sweet
things are not good for me; still, I eat some of them. Do so no more,
for I shall be angry: is it not sufficient that I send you no sweets?

I don't know what "Pater Nosters" those are which you say you recite in
taking the discipline, for I never mentioned any such thing. Read my
letter over again, and you will see what I said. On no account use it
oftener than I prescribed, viz. twice a week. In Lent you may
wear the hair-shirt once in a week; but upon this condition, that in
case you perceive it does you harm, you leave it off; for, as you are of
a sanguine temperament, I fear it might injure you. I cannot allow you
to use it oftener, for it will, when thus limited to a certain degree,
be a greater penance for you after you have begun to use it, because it
will teach you to subdue your will. Let me know, after you have worn it,
whether you find it does you any harm.

The prayer of repose which you mention is the prayer of Quiet, which I
spoke of in the little book. As to those emotions caused by the senses, I
have told you all that is necessary to be done respecting them; I see
plainly they are of no consequence, and that it is best not to heed
them. A learned man once told me that a person came to him in the
greatest affliction, because every time he communicated he fell into a
certain desponding stateâ€“a much greater affliction than yoursâ€“and that
on this account he was allowed to communicate only once a year, merely
to fulfil the command of the Church. But this learned man, though not
very spiritual, perceived it arose from weakness, and he accordingly
told him not to pay any attention to it, and to communicate every eight
days. When he lost his fear, this complaint went away: therefore, make
no account of your case.

You may speak to Juan de Avila about anything, for he is a very good
man. You tell me he often talks to you: I am glad of it. Visit him
sometimes, and when you wish to do him a kindness, do it by way of alms,
for he is very poor, and exceedingly disengaged from riches; he is, in
my opinion, one of the best priests you have at Avila: it is good to
have such conversations, for one cannot always be engaged in prayer.

With regard to sleep, I tell you, and even command you, not to
take less than six hours. Consider how necessary it is, that we who are
advanced in years should take care of our body, lest the spirit should
grow weak, for this would be a terrible affliction. You cannot imagine
what a misery it is to me now, when I can neither pray nor read, though
(as I have said) I am certainly better: but I shall learn wisdom by
experience. I advise you to be more careful of your health, and to do
what you are commanded, for hereby you will be fulfilling the will of
God. How simple you are to think, it was such prayer as mine that would
not let me sleep! There is no resemblance, for I would have done much
more to have been able to sleep, than to have kept awake.

Truly do the favours which our Lord bestows upon you excite me to praise
Him exceedingly as well as the effects which you find come from them.
Hereby you may see how great He is, since He gives you such virtues
which you could never attain by any diligence of your own. Remember that
the weakness in your head does not arise from eating or drinking: do
what I told you. Our Lord does me a great favour in giving you such good
health. May His Majesty preserve it for many years, that so you may
spend it in His service.

The fear you mention must, I think, certainly arise from your soul perceiving the presence of an evil
spirit; and though the eyes of the body see it not, yet the soul must
see it, or feel it is near. Keep holy water by you, for nothing sooner
drives the devil away.[127] This has often
helped me. Sometimes he has not only terrified me, but tormented me
greatly: this, however, I mention in confidence between ourselves. But
if the holy water should not touch him, he will not depart; therefore
sprinkle it all about the place.

Think not that God bestows a small favour upon you, by giving you such
good nights' rest: know that this is a very great favour. I say again,
you must not try to prevent sleep, for at your age you require it.

It seems to me great charity to desire troubles for oneself, and to give others pleasure: it is a high favour from God, even to think
of doing so. But, on the other hand, it is great stupidity and little
humility, to think of arriving at this degree without prayer, even with
the virtues possessed by Francisco de Salcedo, or with those which God
gives to yourself. Believe my words, and leave the matter to the Lord of
the Vineyard, who knows well what every one stands in need of. I never
asked Him for interior trials, though He has given me many during my
life, and these were very great. Our natural disposition and
constitution contribute much to increase these afflictions. I am glad
that you are pleased with the company of that holy man, and earnestly do
I hope you may imitate him.

I wish you to know that I foresaw what would happen from the judgment I
gave: I knew you would not be satisfied; but I could not treat the
matter seriously. On consideration, you will see I have given you some
praise; though without telling an untruth to you. I cannot give a
different answer, and I am still of the same opinion.[128]
I have had such a violent headache, that I really know not how I could
have said so much, for on that day I had so much business to transact,
and so many letters to answer, that sometimes it seems as if the devil
brought all these upon me, in order to trouble me: this was particularly
the case the night I took my physic, which made me very ill. It was
quite a miracle I did not send to the bishop of Carthegena, a letter
which I had written for Father Gracian's mother, for I had it directed to his lordship and had even put it in the packet (before I found out my mistake).[129]
Thanks be to God, I discovered my error. I had however written to that
bishop (whom I never saw), because his vicar-general had interfered with
our nuns of Caravaca, and had forbidden their confessor to say mass for
them. The matter, however, is now settled, and the rest will soon be
arranged; I mean, the bishop will agree to the foundation of the
monastery. His lordship cannot do otherwise, for my letter was
recommended by several others. But only fancy what confusion for me, if I
had sent the letter to the bishop which I had intended for the lady!
Did I not do well to stop there?

We are in dread of Father Tostado, who has now returned to court:
recommend the matter to God, and read this letter from the prioress of
Seville. I was much pleased with the one you wrote to her, and which she
sent to me. I was also amused with the one you wrote to our sisters,
for it is very interesting. They were all delighted with it, and now
send you a thousand thanks and regards, especially my companion, who is
the nun that came with us from Malagon: she is fifty years old, and is
extremely good, and has an excellent understanding. I speak from
experience, for she is exceedingly kind to me and takes great care of
me.

The prioress of Valladolid informs me, that they do all in their power
with regard to the business you speak of, and that Padre de Ahumada was
in the city to attend to it. You may rest assured, that the merchant who
has undertaken it will acquit himself well of the charge. Do not
trouble yourself about it. Remember me to the children, but particularly
to Francisco; I should much like to see them. You did right to send
that person away, though you may have had no reason to be dissatisfied.
When there are so many, they are only in each other's way. Give my very
kind regards to DoÃ±a Juana, Pedro Alvarez, and to all the rest of the
family. I assure you, my head is now much better than when I began this
letter. I think it must proceed from the pleasure I feel in writing to
you.

My confessor, Doctor Velasquez, has been here to-day. I mentioned to him
what you said about the plate and tapestry; for, through want of my
assistance, I should not wish you to grow negligent in the service of
God, and hence in some things I do not rely on my own judgment, though
in this matter mine agreed with his. He says "that it will neither do
good nor harm, provided you know how little it signifies, and that you
be not attached to it." This is good advice, for you must marry your
children and furnish your house in a proper way. For the present, then,
you must have patience, for God is always accustomed to provide times
and seasons for the accomplishment of good desires: and so He will act
with you. May God preserve you, and make you a great saint. Amen.

Your Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

February 25th.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXXIII. To Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother of the Saint.

Letter 6th. The Saint sends him some spiritual advice, and speaks on
several matters, the nature of which will be seen by the letter. Date,
1579. It seems to have been written from Valladolid. Carta XXXIV.
Spanish ed. vol. i.

THE grace of Christ be with you.

This relation of ours is quite tiresome:[130]
thus we must pass our time. But though it is proper we should be
entirely separated from the world, yet we must not altogether give up
attending to the civilites of life. Believe me, however, that during all
the time I have been here, I have not been able to write to the
sisters, I mean to every one in particular, though some earnestly wish
me to do so. But, please God, I will speak to them without fail next
Thursday. I will leave a short little note for you, that she who brings
the money may take the letter also, together with the money.

I have been informed that three thousand reals[131]
are now ready, besides a very good chalice, which need not be richer;
the weight is about twelve ducats and a real, and I think the value of
the workmanship amounts to forty reals, making in all sixteen ducats and
three reals less. It is all silver, and I think you will be pleased
with it. They showed me one of the metal you spoke of: but though it has
not been long made, and is even gilt, a person can easily see what it
is in reality. It is quite black inside the foot, and this makes it look
disagreeable. I immediately resolved not to purchase it; and it really
did appear to me unbearable, that you who use so much silver at your
table should wish to buy brass for the service of God. I think I
shall not find another so cheap, nor of so good a size. The prioress is
so well skilled in these matters, that she has made the bargain with one
of her friends, who knows it was for this house. She sends her very
kind regards to you; and because I am writing, she thinks it unnecessary
for her to write. It is wonderful to see how well she governs the
house, and what a talent she has for this purpose.

I enjoy better health here.[132] The best
thing you can do, is to avoid the company of those persons of whom you
speak. It is better your melancholy should discharge itself in this way
(for it is nothing else) than in another, which might bring still
greater inconveniences. I was delighted to hear that Avila was not dead,
for he is a good man. God granted him a favour, in allowing his illness
to come upon him in such a place, where such great care was taken of
him.

I am not surprised at your trouble: but I am surprised to see you
so very desirous of serving God, and yet that you find such a light
cross so very heavy. You will soon say, "you wish it were lighter, in
order to be the better able to serve our Lord." O brother! we know not
what we ask. All such desires show a little self-love. Do not wonder at
wishing to change your cross, for your age demands this. In spite of
this imperfection, do not imagine that every one is as exact as you are
in fulfilling their duties. Let us praise God that you have not other
faults.

I shall stop at Medina three or four days at most, and at Alva about
eight. It will take two days to go from Alva to Medina, and thence I
shall proceed to Salamanca. By this letter, received from Seville, you
will see the prioress has been re-established in her office, at which I
am much pleased. If you wish to write to her, send your letter to me,
while I am at Salamanca. I have already informed her she must come to
pay you, as you want the money. I shall take care that you receive it.

Father Juan de Jesus is now in Rome. The business goes on very well; it will soon be finished.

Canon Montoza, who transacts our business, has returned, and has brought the cardinal's hat for the Archbishop of Toledo.[133]
He is one of whose services we shall stand in need. Do me the kindness
to visit Francisco de Salcedo, and tell him how I am. I was very glad to
hear he was better, and that he could say mass again.[134]
God grant he may perfectly recover his health. Our sisters here
continually recommend him to our Lord, and may His Majesty ever be with
you. If you think well, you may safely mention anything to Sister Maria
de San GerÃ³nimo.

I sometimes wish to have Teresa here, especially when we are walking in
the garden: may God make you both saints. Give my respects to Pedro de
Ahumada. Yesterday was the feast of St. Anne: I did not forget you,
knowing how devoted you are to her, and that you will build a church, if
you have not already done so, in her honour; the thought of this gives
me great pleasure.

Your Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXXIV.To Don Diego de Guzman y Cepeda.

The Saint consoles him upon the death of his wife. He was her nephew,
being the son of her sister, DoÃ±a Maria de Cepeda. The date of this
beautiful and tender letter is uncertain. Carta XXXV. Spanish ed. vol.
i.

THE Grace of the Holy Spirit be with you, and give you all the
consolation you stand in need of to support the great loss you have
sustained, though it is only great because it seems so to you now. But
our Lord who permits it, and who loves us more than we do ourselves,
will one day make us understand that it is the greatest happiness which
could have been granted to my cousin, and to all those who loved her,
because He has taken her out of this world to enjoy far greater
happiness in the other.

Do not suppose that you may yet live a long time for everything is short
which so soon comes to an end: but remember that whatever length of
time you may survive your departed spouse, it is but a moment. Put all
your affairs then into the hands of God, and His Majesty will do what is
the best for your welfare. It ought to give you abundant consolation to
have seen a death, which gives us such great hope that she will live
for ever in Heaven. Be assured, that as our Lord has now taken her to
Himself, you and your children will receive greater graces and blessings
from Him, because she stands before His presence.

May His Majesty hear my prayers for you, to whom we continually
recommend her dear soul: may He also give you resignation to whatever He
may be pleased to send you, and enlighten your understanding, that you
may know how short are all the pleasures and troubles of this life.

Your unworthy Servant, TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXXV. To a person who was afflicted at the death of his wife.

It is not known to whom this letter was addressed, neither can the date
be ascertained. It is as beautiful and tender as the preceding. Carta
XXXIX. Spanish ed. vol. vi.

JESUS. The Grace of the Holy Spirit be with you, and give you strength,
both spiritual and corporeal, to bear patiently the great affliction
which you have received. I feel for you so much, that did I not know
this trial came from a just and merciful hand, I should not be able to
comfort you. But as I know well how truly this great God loves us, and
since I know also how deeply convinced you are of the miseries and
instability of this wretched life, I hope His Majesty will enlighten you
more and more, that so you may understand the particular favour our
Lord bestows on those who have the happiness of knowing Him, when He
takes them from this life: and especially you may be assured, in
accordance with what our Faith teaches, that this holy soul is now in a
Kingdom where she will receive a reward due to the numerous afflictions
which she endured in this life with such admirable patience.

I have very earnestly begged of our Lord this favour for her, and have
told our sisters to do the same. We have also requested him to comfort you,
and to give you health to recommence the good fight in this miserable
world. Happy they who are already in a place of security. I think this
is not the time to write a longer letter to you: it had better be spent
in praying to God to console you, for creatures can do but little in
such an affliction as yours, and much less can I do anything who am so
wicked. May His Majesty, then, being so powerful, comfort you, and
henceforth be your friend and companion, that so you may no more regret
the good soul whom you have lost.

Your unworthy Servant and Subject,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Eve of the Transfiguration.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXXVI. To Diego Ortiz, Citizen of Toledo.

Our Lord had inspired this good man to found a Carmelite monastery in
Toledo, and the Saint in this letter expresses her gratitude for such a
favour. It seems to have been written from Salamanca. Date, 1572. Carta
XXXVII. Spanish ed. vol. i.

MAY the Holy Spirit ever dwell in your soul, and give you His holy love and fear. Amen.

Father Doctor Pablo Hernandez has written to inform me of the kindness
and charity which you intend showing me, in wishing to found a house of
our Sacred Order. I firmly believe that our Lord and His Glorious
Mother, my Advocate and Mistress, has moved your heart to do so holy a
work, which I hope will greatly promote the honour of His Divine
Majesty, and draw down upon you many spiritual advantages. May His
Majesty give you what I desire for you, and what all the sisters pray
you may possess. Henceforth the whole Order will be indebted to you.
Your good design has given me great consolation; and I am also very
anxious to become acquainted with you, in order to offer you by word of
mouth my sincere gratitude; and I beg you will consider me for the
future as your servant.

Our Lord has been pleased to take away the fever which I had. I am doing
all I can to make this convent such as I wish it to be, and I think
that by the assistance of God I shall soon accomplish my object. I
assure you I shall lose no time, but hasten directly to meet you: even
should the fever return, I shall not mind it; for it is only just that,
as you do everything, I should do all I can on my part, and this is
little or nothing. We should indeed take some trouble, and we ought to
aim at nothing else but to follow Him who always lived in sufferings, without in any way deserving them.

I think I shall derive more than one benefit from this business; for,
according to the letter I have received from Father Pablo Hernandez, I
shall gain much by becoming acquainted with you; for up to this
time I have been supported by the prayers of good people, and therefore I
beg of you, for the love God, not to forget me in yours.

If His Majesty should not ordain otherwise, I hope to be at Toledo in
the second week in Lent; for as I shall pass near those monasteries
which our Lord has been pleased to found during these last few years, I
shall be obliged to remain with the sisters there for some days, though
the visits will be as short as possible. As you desire, I shall depart
as soon as I can, though in a matter so well arranged, and which one may
say is already accomplished, I shall have nothing else to do but to
admire and praise our Lord. May His Majesty ever preserve you, and give
you health and a long life, and an increase of that grace which I desire
for you. Amen.

Your unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS, Carmelite.

January 9th.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXXVII. To Alonzo Ramirez, Citizen of Toledo.

This letter is written with great force and tenderness. She makes
excuses for not having arrived sooner at Toledo, on account of the frost
and cold, for Don Ramirez had intended to found a convent there. This,
however, did not take place for some time, as both he and Diego Ortiz
(who was his brother-in-law) put some obstacles in the way. This letter
was written from Valladolid. Date, 1569. Carta XXXVIII. Spanish ed. vol.
i.

THE Holy Ghost be with you, and repay you for the consolation which I
received from your last letter. It came just at the time in which I was
troubled at not being able to send you an account of myself, for it is
proper I should not be wanting in this respect. I have delayed a little
longer than I told you in my letter I should, though I assure you I do
not lose an hour, at least so it seems to me. It is not a fortnight ago
since we took possession of our new monastery, with a solemn procession
and great devotion. May our Lord be praised in all things.

Since Wednesday I have been staying with SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Maria de Mendoza:[135]
she could not see me sooner, as she was very ill, though I was
exceedingly anxious to communicate some things to her. I thought of
remaining only one day with her; but the weather has been so very cold,
and there has been so much hail and snow, that it was quite impossible
to commence my journey, and so I was obliged to remain here till
Saturday. I shall depart on Monday, without fail, if our Lord so please,
on my way to Medina, and thence to St. Joseph's at Avila. Whatever
diligence I may make, I shall be obliged to remain at these two houses
for more than fifteen days, as I have some business to arrange there, so
that I shall not be at Toledo so soon as I promise you: but I trust you
will excuse me if I do not make greater haste: it is not my fault, as
you will see by the account I send you of my affairs; and after all, the
delay is not long. I beg you will not think of purchasing a house till I
come, because I wish to have one that is suitable for us, such as you
and your departed friend kindly intend bestowing upon us.

With regard to the leave which we must have, we shall, I think, easily
obtain it from the king, by the Divine assistance, though it may cost
some trouble. I know by experience that the devil cannot endure these
our houses hence he always persecutes us; but our Lord can do all
things, and sends the enemy away in conclusion.

We have met with great opposition here: some of the principal persons in
the place were against us: but now all opposition has ceased. Do not
think of giving our Lord merely what you were intending to
bestow: give much more, for His Majesty rewards good works, by giving us
grace to do still greater. To bestow money is nothing, for this gives
you little trouble. But should people stone you, and your
brother-in-law, and all those who have been connected with this business
(as was near being the case when we were engaged in the foundation of
St. Joseph's at Avila), then the undertaking would prosper; and I
believe that neither the monastery, nor we who endured those troubles
would lose anything, but rather we should gain a great deal. May our
Lord direct everything as He knows best. Do not trouble yourself about
it. I am sorry to hear that my Father Hernandez is not at Toledo: if it
be necessary, I will endeavour to send him there. The devil already
begins to disturb us. God be praised, for if we are not wanting to Him, He will not fail to protect us.

I really have a great desire to see you, for I think your presence will
give me great comfort: then will I thank you for all the kindness you
express towards me in your letters. May our Lord grant that I may find
you and your brother-in-law in good health: to his and your prayers I
recommend myself. Remember that I have need of them, considering with
what bad health I commence this journey, though the fever has not
returned. I will take care to execute your commands, and our sisters
will do the same. They all recommend themselves to your prayers. May our
Lord always be your guide. Amen.

Your Unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS, Carmelite.

Valladolid, Saturday, February 19th.

P.S.â€“Give this letter to SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Luisa de la Cerda, and present also
my sincere regards to her. I have not time to write to SeÃ±or Diego de
Avila, for even this letter which I now send to SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Luisa is not
written by my own hand. Please to give her an account of my health, and
tell her that I hope to see her soon. Do not trouble yourself about
obtaining leave, for I trust in our Lord everything will go on well.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXXVIII. To DoÃ±a Isabel Ximena, at Segovia.

The Saint confirms this lady in her resolution of becoming a Carmelite,
which she eventually did at Salamanca. She became a great servant of
God, and was called in religion "Isabel de Jesus." Date, 1570 or 1573.
Carta XL. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The Holy Ghost be ever with you, and may he give you grace to
know how much you are indebted to our Lord, since being exposed to such
great dangers (which arise from your youth, fortune, and the liberty you
have), He has inspired you with a desire to withdraw yourself from all
these temptations: and while penance, enclosure and poverty quite
terrify other souls, He has made you understand the value of the one,
and the deceit of the other; and how you might have lost yourself
therein, had you allowed yourself to be led away by their allurements.
May our Lord be blessed and praised in all things. A proof has now been
given me of the goodness of your soul, and this makes me easily believe
that you are fit to be a daughter of our Lady, by entering this her
sacred Order. May God give you grace so to advance in your holy desires
and good works, that I may have no cause to complain of Father Juan de
Leon (for I am quite satisfied with the account he has given me of you):
I am also so consoled by the hope of seeing you one day become a great
saint, that I am perfectly content with you, without making any other
inquiries.

May our Lord reward you for the alms which you have resolved to bring to
the convent, for it is very considerable. The circumstance ought to
give you great comfort, because you thus follow the counsel of our Lord,
of giving to the poor, for His sake, both yourself and all that belongs
to you. It is true that, considering the favours which you have
received from His Majesty, it seems you cannot discharge the obligations
you owe him without acting as you do; and since you do all that lies in
your power, I assure you, you do a great deal, and on this account you
will not fail to receive abundant blessings.

As you have read our rules and constitutions, I have nothing more to say
but this, viz., that if you continue in your resolution, you may enter
any of our Houses which you like best: for the least favour which I can
do for my Father Juan de Leon, is to let you have your choice. It is
true, I should like you to take the habit where I am, because I have a
great desire to know you. May our Lord order everything as He sees best,
for His honour and glory.

Your unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS, Carmelite.

The Letters of St. Teresa

PART II.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XXXIX. To Mother Catherine
de Christo, Prioress of the Discalced Carmelites of the Convent of the
Most Holy Trinity at Soria, and to the Religious of the said House.

The Saint thanks them for the assistance they gave her when she was in
great affliction at Avila:, from which city this letter was written,
before her departure from Burgos. Date, 1581. Carta XLIII. Spanish ed.
vol. i.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be with you all, my daughters.

You will, I am sure, readily believe that I was anxious to write to each
of you in particular; but I am now so much engaged, and I have besides
such a multitude of letters to write, and especially as I am on the
point of commencing my journey, you will see what little leisure I have.
Beg of our Lord that we may serve Him in all things, and pray in
particular for the success of the Foundation at Burgos.

I received great consolation from your letter, and much more from
knowing by your works and words the tender love you bear me. However, in
spite of the kindness which you have so generously shown towards me, I
firmly believe that your love cannot equal the affection I feel
for you, though I have every reason to esteem it, as my wants were
great. Our Lord will reward you for it; and it clearly appears you serve
Him, since you have rendered such good service to the Religious of this
convent.[136] They all sincerely thank you
for such kindness, and pray for you to our Lord. I continually do the
same, for I have nothing else to offer you.

I was much pleased to hear how well everything succeeded, and especially
that some persons began to speak against you, without your having given
them any occasion to do so. This ought to be very pleasing to you, as
you have had so few opportunities of meriting it since your Foundation.
With regard to our Father Vallejo, I can only tell you that our Lord
repays the great service he has done for Himâ€“by sending him many
afflictions; and as he has conferred several important benefits on this
House, I do not wonder at our Lord sending him troubles, in order that
he may gain the more.

Take care, my daughters, how you act when this holy lady[137]
enters the house. It is proper that the mother-prioress and all the
sisters should treat her with civility and affection. But as she
possesses such solid virtue, it is unnecessary to be too strict with
her. It will be sufficient for her to see what you do; and then, on the
other hand, she will have such a good father, that I think she will soon
learn everything necessary. May God preserve you all, and give you
health and a long life, for these are what I wish you may have.

I am very glad to hear that the mother-superioress is better. If
necessary, she must always have meat, even in Lent; for when there is
occasion for such a dispensation, no sin is committed either against the
rules of the Church, or against ours. I beg of our Lord, that He will
give you virtue above everything else, and especially humility and love
one for another; for these are of the greatest importance. May His
Majesty grant that I may see you all far advanced in these, and I desire
you will beg the same for me.

The Servant of you all,

TERESA DE JESUS.

P.S.â€“This is the eve of King David's day,[138]
and the day which we commenced the foundation of Palencia. Pray for
Sister Teresa de Jesus, and for mother sub-prioress. Both of them are
confined to their bed, and the sub-prioress is dangerously ill.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XL. To Mother Catherine de Christo, Prioress of the Carmelites at Soria.

This holy Religious was the first prioress of the Convent of the Most
Holy Trinity at Soria. St. Teresa had the highest opinion of her
sanctity, and the bishop of Osma commends her exceedingly in his remarks
on this letter. The contents of this letter are various, but at the
same time both interesting and important. Date, 1582. Carta XLII.
Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS be with you, my daughter, and preserve you in His grace.

The letter I received from you gave me great comfort. I should be glad if that
could be done, about which you spoke to me, respecting the kitchen and
refectory; but as you know better than I how the matter stands, do what
you think best. I am much pleased to hear what you say about the
goodness of De Roque de Huerta's daughter. With regard to the profession
of the novice, I think it better to defer it till the time you mention.
She is young yet, and it is of no consequence if she stay a little
longer. You must not be surprised at her having certain fancies,[139]
for these are peculiar to her age. She will get the better of them in
time; and such as she are usually the very persons who afterwards become
more mortified than others. Tell Sister Eleanor de la Misericordia,
that I would willingly do more for her welfare. Would that I could
attend her profession: I should be very glad to do so, for this would
give me more pleasure than the other matters which now engage me here.

With respect to the Foundation you speak of, I cannot consent to its
being established without some revenue be provided, because as charity
is now so cold, we must act thus; and, besides, it is impossible to have
a house at such a distance from the others, unless it have the means of
support, for those already founded there help one another when they
stand in need of assistance. However, I am glad to hear of such good
beginnings, and how well this business has been managed. By this means
they will find out some charitable person, who may perhaps contribute
something towards it. If God be pleased with it, He will inspire some
good soul to give more assistance than we have at present.

I shall not remain long at Avila, for I shall be obliged to go to
Salamanca, and there you may write to me. Still if the Foundation at
Madrid should succeed (as I hope it may), I should then be nearer your
house: recommend the matter to Almighty God. I should be glad if the
Religious you mention would come to Palencia, for that House is in want
of her.

I will write to Mother Inez de Jesus on the subject, so that you may
both make arrangements for her coming. With regard to those fathers, I
shall be glad if you do all you can for them: it is quite necessary to
neglect nothing on our part, for the good we do them and the kindness we
show them may be of service to us, when we stand in need of assistance.
Say what you think proper, as coming from me, to SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Beatrix. I
should be glad to write to her; but we are just on the point of
departing, and I am so overpowered with business, that I hardly know
what I am doing. May God be served by all men.

If I have advised you to defer the profession of the novice, do not
suppose it has been done for the view of giving any preference to
another with respect to age, or superiority in religion. These are
worldly points of honour which I cannot endure, nor do I wish you to
give way to such things. The only reason why I consented was, because
she is so young, and it is good to make her a little more mortified than
she is. If there were any other motive than this, I would immediately
order her to make her profession; for it is proper that the humility
which we profess should be made manifest by our actions. I mention this
matter to you in the first place, for I am so convinced of
humility of Sister Eleanor de la Misericordia, that she will not care
for any of these points of honour. This being the case, I am willing for
the young lady to defer her profession a little longer.

I can write no more, for we are just on the point of commencing our
journey to Medina. My health is about the same as usual. My companions
send their respects to you. It is not long since Ana told us of the
state of matters there. Remember me most kindly to all the Religious of
your House. May God make them and you also saints.

Your Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

Valladolid, September 15th.

P.S.â€“We have just arrived at Medina. But I am so busy, that I only have
time to inform you we are all well. With regard to the profession of
Isabel, conduct the matter with such prudence that no one may suspect it
has been deferred, in order to give any preference to another, because
this in reality is not the motive.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XLI. To Sister Leonor de la Misericordia, Carmelite in the Convent of the Most Holy Trinity at Soria.

The Saint comforts and strengthens this sister against certain scruples
which she had. Bishop Palafox styles this letter "very spiritual and
judicious"â€“"Esta carta, es muy discreta y espiritual." Date, 1582. Carta
XLIV. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. May the Holy Spirit be with you, my daughter.

O! how I wish I had no other letter to write but this, that so I might
have more leisure to answer the letter which I have received from you,
as well as that which was sent to me through the hands of the Jesuit
Fathers. Believe me, my daughter, that every time I receive a letter
from you, it gives me particular consolation; for this reason,
take care the devil does not tempt you to discontinue writing to me.
With regard to your being afraid, least you should be going backward,
instead of advancing in virtue, you may derive very great profit from
such a temptation. Time will make this known to you, for God treats you
like one whom He has taken into His palace, and who He knows will not
depart from Him: hence it is, that He wishes to give you opportunities
of meriting more. It may be, that as He was desirous of disengaging you
from all earthly things, He treated you up to this time with more
tenderness,[140] of which you stood greatly in need.

I remember a virtuous lady,[141] with whom I
was acquainted at Avila, and who certainly led the life of a saint. She
had given away all she had for the love of God, so that she had nothing
left in the world but one blanket to cover herself with: this
also she gave away. Immediately after, God afflicted her for some time
with many most severe interior sufferings and aridities, which obliged
her now and then to complain of them to our Lord, and to thus
exclaim:â€“"O God, how wonderful art Thou! After having deprived me of
everything, dost Thou treat me in this manner?" Thus, daughter, does His
Majesty act towards those who love Him, for He repays their services
with sufferings; and surely no reward can be greater, since by them the love of God is acquired.

I praise God for the advancement you have interiorly made in virtue.
Place your soul in the hands of God: it is His spouse: He will take care
of it, and conduct it along that road which is the best for it. It
seems the new life you lead and the exercises you practise may remove
from you that peace after which you sigh. But be not troubled, for it
may afterwards come all at once. Place all your happiness in carrying
the cross of Christ, and make no account of consolations: such things
belong only to soldiers, who wished to be paid by the day. Serve God gratis,
as great men do their king. May our Heavenly King be with you. With
regard to my departure, I shall tell SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Beatrix what is
necessary.

DoÃ±a Josefa is truly a good soul, and very fit for our Houses. But she
advances so much where she is now, that I think she would do wrong to
leave, and for this reason I have done all I could to prevent her. I
also fear that if she were to leave, it might cause something
unpleasant. But if our Lord wishes, it will be done. Remember me to your
brothers, whom I know. May God preserve you, and make you what I wish
to see you.

Your Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XLII. To Sister Teresa de Jesus, Carmelite in St. Joseph's Convent at Avila.

This holy Religious was the daughter of the Saint's own brother and
consequently she was St. Teresa's niece. When this letter was addressed
to her she was only a novice, but soon after she made her profession at
Avila in 1582. St. Teresa wrote to comfort her for some troubles which
she had, on account of certain aridities to which she was subject, and
through which she imagined the Spouse of her soul had left her. Date,
1582. Carta XLV. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The Grace of the Holy Spirit be ever with you, my daughter.

Your letter gave me great pleasure, and I am glad to hear that mine
produced the same effect: this ought to comfort us both exceedingly,
since we cannot live together.

With regard to the aridities you speak of, it seems to me that
our Lord deals with you as if He considered you one of the strong, since
He wishes to try you, in order to see how much you love Him, and
whether your love is the same in aridities, as when you abound in
consolations. Consider, then, those aridities as very great favours from
our Lord. Do not allow them to trouble you, for perfection does not
consist in having delights, but in possessing virtue. And besides, your
devotion will return when you least expect it.

Respecting what you say of the sister, endeavour to drive away such a
thought from her mind, that so she may think no more about it. Do not
suppose that when such a thought comes into the mind, it is always
sinful; even should it be more evil than what you mention, still it
would be nothing (unless wilfully indulged in.)[142]
I wish she had the same aridities that you have, because I doubt if she
knows what she does, and we may desire such trials for her greater
good. When any bad thought presents itself, make the sign of the cross,
recite the "Our Father," or strike your breast, and try to turn your
thoughts to something else: the more you resist, the more merit you will
have.

I should have sent an answer to Isabel de San Pablo had I time to write.
Give her my kind regards, for she knows well you ought to be the most
beloved. Don Francisco[143] is well, and
leads the life of an angel; he and all his household communicated
yesterday. To-morrow we leave for Valladolid, and from there he will
write to you: I have not as yet given him any information about the
bearer of this letter. May God preserve you, my daughter, and make you a
great saint: this is what I pray for. Amen. Remember me to all the
sisters.

TERESA DE JESUS.

This is the Feast of St. Albert.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XLIII.To Mother Maria
Bautista, Prioress of the Discalced Carmelites belonging to the Convent
of the Immaculate Conception at Valladolid.

Letter 1st. This "valiant woman" was niece to the Saint. Before she
thought of being a Religious, she offered to give a thousand ducats to
this convent. The Almighty rewarded her charity; for, having
accomplished her good and noble intention, she became afterwards, by her
prudence and rare judgment, one of the most illustrious instruments in
the foundation of this convent. This letter was written from Segovia, in
the year 1574. Carta XLVI. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. May the Holy Spirit be with you, my daughter.

You will see, by the letter I send to Father Domingo,[144] what has happened here, and how our Lord has disposed matters in such a way, that I cannot come and see you.

I assure you I am very, very sorry for this disappointment, because of
all things in the world such a visit would have given me the greatest
comfort and consolation. But still, this pleasure would have passed away
like all the pleasures of this life do: and so when I remember this,
all troubles are borne patiently.

I likewise regret not being able to see my beloved Casilda: but I beg
you will remember me most kindly to her, and to Maria de la Cruz. Some
other time our Lord may so order things, that I shall have more leisure,
to be able to come and see you. Take care of your health, for you know
how necessary it is, and what trouble I am in when you are not well:
try also to become a saint, for I assure you you ought to be one, in
order to be able to bear all the labours of your office. The
quartan-ague has left me now. When our Lord wishes me to do any thing
for His Honour, then He gives me better health.

I shall depart at the end of this month,[145]
though I am afraid the sisters will not yet enter their House, for we
are obliged to pay immediately to the chapter the sum of six hundred
ducats: and though we have received a sister who has brought with her
six hundred and thirty ducats, yet as this money is to serve only in the
way of principal, we can find no one to lend us anything upon it or
take it up. Recommend the matter to God, for I should be delighted if
the sisters could be established in their House. If SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Maria
could pay what she owed, you might then easily take up the loan, for the
security is very good. Let me know if this can be done, or if you know
any one who could do it, or who would lend us some money on good
security worth more than a thousand ducats. Pray for me to our Lord, for
I am about to undertake a long journey, and this, too, in the winter.

At the end of this month I shall leave here for the monastery of the
Incarnation. If you wish to send any commands by me to Avila, write
before I depart. Do not be troubled at being unable to see me. Perhaps
you would be grieved, were you to see me looking so old and care-worn.
Remember me to all the sisters. I am very anxious to see Isabel de San
Pablo. Those canons have given us a great deal of trouble. May God
forgive them.

If any one in your neighbourhood could be found who could lend me some money[146] (I should indeed be grateful).[147] I do not wish the sum should be given
to me, for I would repay it as soon as I received what my brother is
sending me; and I am informed that the order has really been sent. Be
this as it may, I hope you will endeavour to obtain this favour for me,
for at present I am not worth a farthing: and hence I know not how I
shall return to the monastery of the Incarnation. The convent here has
not the means of assisting me, for it can hardly support itself.

Thank God, Father Domingo has arrived in good health. If Father Medina
should chance to come near you, give him this letter which I have
written, for he thinks I am angry with him, if I may judge from a letter
which I have received from the father provincial. But I am far from
being displeased with him; he rather deserves my thanks than my anger.
It is not long since I wrote to you, and I know not if you received my
letter; if you did, you do wrong in not having written to me
before now, as you know what pleasure I feel in reading your letters.
God be with you. I assure you again I am exceedingly grieved that I
cannot see you; I had once indeed some hopes I might be able.

Your Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

September 10th.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XLIV. To Mother Maria Bautista, Prioress of the Carmelites at Valladolid.

Letter 2nd. The Saint mentions the persecutions she endured at Seville
by means of a novice who, having left the house, lost her senses, and
spread many false reports about the convent there, &c. Date, 1576.
Carta XLVII. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be with you, my daughter.

The courier leaves to-morrow: I did not intend writing to you, because I
have no good news to tell you, except that he who lived in the house
(to which we were going) has consented to our taking possession the day
after to-morrow, which is the Feast of St. Philip and St. James. This
makes me believe that our Lord is now desirous of calming the storm of
our troubles.

Send this letter to the Prioress of Medina as soon as you possibly can,
for she will be uneasy at my not having written to her, and given her a
short account of our troubles. I assure you that of all the
persecutions which we have had to endure since the foundation of St.
Joseph's, none can bear the least comparison with what we suffered at
Seville.[148] When you know what has taken
place, you will see I had reason for what I said, and that it will be a
mercy of God if we can escape from these troubles with safety; at
present we have every reason to expect a favourable issue. May our Lord
be blessed, who knows how to draw good from evil: as for myself, I feel
the greatest joy that so many troubles have befallen us. Had not my
brother been here, we should not have been able to do anything whatever.

He[149] has suffered much, and has
generously spent his money, and has borne every affliction with such
great courage, as to excite us to praise our Lord for it. It is, then,
with great reason that our sisters esteem him, for they have no one else
to help them, and at present all the city is against us. He has now
taken refuge in a convent, for it was very fortunate that he was not
taken to prison, which is a kind of hell on earth. But the worst
of all is, they persecute us without justice or mercy; they ask from us
what we do not owe them, and demand that he should be given up as a
security. If the matter should be laid before the court, it will soon be
settled, otherwise I cannot see the end of it. He is in the Carmelite
convent with our father, and is quite delighted to have something to
suffer for God, though the troubles which he endures come upon him like
hail. I do all I can to hide our sufferings from him, for I see that ours are much more afflicting to him than his own, and with reason.

I will now tell you something more. I informed you in one of my former
letters how ill the novice that left us behaved towards us: but this was
nothing in comparison with the lies she afterwards published about us.
You will soon hear of them. But as regards myself, I must say that God
bestowed a great favour upon me, for I was then as calm as if I had
abounded in delights; and though I knew well what harm these false
reports might do, still this thought did not afflict me, for my joy
exceeded my sorrows. A good conscience is everything, and a conviction
that one is not guilty of the crimes laid to our charge.

The other novice entered another convent. Yesterday I was assured that
she lost her senses, merely because she left our house. Behold herein
the depth of God's judgments, who always defends the truth; and now He
makes it manifest, that what she reported about us was all false. The
following were some of the lies she told:â€“"That we used to bind the
hands and feet of the nuns, and then whip them," &c.; would to God
all the rest of her tales were no greater than these, for she said
things a thousand times worse, and of far greater consequence! I now
see, however, very clearly, how our Lord wished to afflict us, in order
that in the end we might gain the more benefit, and so it has happened.
Do not then be troubled on our account, but rather rejoice; for I hope
in our Lord that we shall soon be able to enter our house, for the
Franciscans make no more opposition; and even should they do so, it
would be all useless, after we have once taken possession.

The sisters here[150] are most holy souls, and above all, the prioress,[151]
whose courage quite astonishes me, and which is far greater than what I
possess. It seems that my presence here has been of some help to them,
for the whole weight of the persecution has fallen upon me. Her
understanding is very solid. I often tell her that in my opinion she is
fit for the province of Andalucia. Was it not necessary to make a good
choice of the Religious who were to be sent to Seville? I am quite well
now, though I have not been so for a long time: the syrup did me the
greatest good in the world. Our father is unwell, though he has no
fever. Recommend him to God: he does not know I am writing to you. Let
us beg of our Lord to deliver us safely through our troubles, and I am
sure He will. Oh! what a miserable year I have spent in this place.

Let us now come to your advice. As to the first point, respecting the title of Don,[152]
I wish to tell you that all those who have slaves and servants in the
Indies are called by this title. Still, when his father came here, I
begged of him not to give his son this title, and I gave him my reasons.
He followed my advice, so that every one then seemed satisfied. But
when Juan de Ovalle and my sister came here, my reasons were not
considered sufficient. My brother was not there then, for he had been
absent for some time, and on this account I could not speak to him. But
they told him so many things on his return (I know not if it were to
authorize what they themselves practised), that all my advice went for
nothing. It is quite true, that every one in Avila is now speaking about
this matter, which I think is very shameful. I am often reproached with
it, and it is a point affecting his reputation. With regard to myself, I
think I have never given him that title: but do not trouble yourself
about the matter, for they say other things of me which I care nothing
about. On your account, I shall speak again to his father on the
subject: but I believe that his relations will never consent to it, and
they are now quite accustomed to call him "Don." I am quite mortified
every time I hear him called so.

With regard to what you say about Teresa writing to Pavilla, I could not
have believed she would have written to any one, except to you and to
the prioress of Medina, in order to give you both a little pleasure. It
seems, however, she has written to him only two or three words. He
imagines that I am occupied with nothing else but with her and my
brother, and it is difficult to drive this idea out of his head. This
would indeed be natural, were I different from what I am. But be assured
that though I am so much indebted to my brother, I am glad he is about
to retire (among the Carmelites), for then I shall not see him so often,
since his visits were really troublesome to me. Sometimes when he was
with me, I was obliged to tell him to go away, when our father or any
other person came to visit me, and he always obeyed me like an angel.
This I did, not because I had no love for him, since I love him
tenderly, but because I wished to be alone, and to be free from every
distraction of this nature. This is the real truth: whether you believe
it or no, is of little consequence to me.

Father Padilla was joking with you when he said he was appointed
visitor. I have known him for some time. Notwithstanding, he is of great
assistance to us, and we are much indebted to him. No one is free from
imperfections. What do you wish? I am glad that the leave I gave pleased
SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Maria.[153] Say everything kind
to her from me, for as it is now so late, I have not time to write to
her. Tell her also that though I am sorry she does not enjoy the company
of the Duchess,[154] yet as I see our Lord wishes she should have no other company but Himself, I am consoled.

I have heard nothing more from Avila, except what you told me in you
letter. May God be with you. Remember me very kindly to Sister Casilda,
to all the community, and to Father Domingo (BaÃ±ez). I wish he would
not set out for Avila till I arrive there: but it must be so, as he
wishes everything should be a source of mortification to me. Do not fail
to write to me. Do not turn away that novice, who you say is so good:
would that she could come here, for I am very anxious to have some
persons like her, if possible. Tell all the sisters, that in my opinion
they need not fear anything now, for I think everything will go on well.

Do not forget to send this letter to the mother prioress of Medina, and
the other to the prioress of Salamanca, so that it may serve for all
three. May God make you a saint. I own that the people of this place are
not very obliging, and I desire more and more to see myself in the Land
of Promise, if such should be God's good pleasure, though if I knew He
would be more pleased at my remaining in this life, I would willingly do
so. Our Lord's will be done.

Your Reverence's Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS

P.S.â€“Remember me to Maria de la Cruz and to the sub-prioress. Read this letter to Maria de la Cruz, and recommend us all to God.

Dominica in Albis.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XLV. To the Mother Prioress of the Carmelites at Malagon.

The Saint in this letter shows her love for this superioress, and the
esteem she had for Father Gracian. Date, 1575. Carta XLIX. Spanish ed.
vol. i.

JESUS. The Grace of the Holy Spirit be with you, my daughter. Praise be to God that I have received your letters here,[155]
for I was very anxious to hear from you: hereby I see that I love you
more than many others who are near relations of mine, and I always
think your letters are too short. I was quite comforted to hear you were
in good health. May our Lord grant you such as I pray you may have. But
I am very sorry to hear that besides the trouble inseparable from your
charge, you are also subject to this pain you speak of. It seems to me
that as this your infirmity has now become so frequent, you ought really
to have recourse to some remedy. May our Lord find one for you.

O! my mother, how I wish you had been with me these last few days. I
tell you without any exaggeration, that during my whole life I never
passed such agreeable days. Father Gracian remained here more than three
weeks. I assure you, that though I have spoken with him so often, I am
still unable sufficiently to appreciate the worth of this good man. In
my opinion he is perfect in everything, and one more adapted for us we
could not have asked of God. What you and all the sisters should now do,
is to beg of His Divine Majesty to make him our superior. By this means
I could free myself from the government of our houses, for never did I
witness such perfection united with such admirable sweetness. May God
preserve and protect him; on no account would I have missed the
opportunity of seeing him and speaking to him. Father Mariano was
expected, but we were glad he did not come so soon. Julian de Avila
loves him tenderly, and indeed so does every one. He preaches admirably
well; and I think he has greatly improved since you saw him last; the
severe afflictions he has suffered have advanced him much in perfection.
Our Lord has so arranged our affairs, that with His assistance I shall
depart for Seville on Monday next. I shall send Father Diego a more
detailed account respecting the reasons why I make this journey.

The reason is, because this house is in Andalucia, and as Father Gracian
is the provincial thereof, I found myself, without thinking of it,
under his jurisdiction, and hence he might give me any command as his
subject. What still more induced me to undertake the journey was, that
we were ready to go to Caravaca; but as the permission which we had
received from the council was drawn up in such a way as to make it invalid,
we could not go, so we then resolved immediately to commence the
Foundation of Seville. It would give me great consolation to take you
with me: but I see it would ruin the house to take you away now, besides
being attended with many other inconveniences.

I think Father Gracian will see you before he returns this way, for the
Nuncio has recalled him, and he will be at Madrid before you receive
this letter. I am much better than usual since I have been in this part
of the country. But how much more pleased should I be to pass the summer
with you, rather than endure the burning heat of Seville! Recommend us
all to God, and tell the sisters, to whom I send my regards, to do the
same for us.

At Seville, however, I shall have more opportunities of writing to you
oftener, and so I shall say no more at present, except to beg of you to
remember me kindly to the Father-Rector, and to your confessor: let me
know what has happened, and tell them to remember me in their prayers.
Give my regards to all the sisters. May our Lord make you a saint.
To-day is the Feast of the Ascension. Sister GerÃ³nimo desires to be
remembered to you. I shall take her to Seville, together with five other
Religious, of very good talents: and she who is to be the prioress is
perfectly adapted for her office.

Your Reverence's Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS

P.S.â€“I know not why you are in such a hurry to have Sister Juana Bautista professed.
Wait a little, for she is yet young. But if you think otherwise, and
are satisfied with her, let her be professed. But I believe it would be
no harm to give her a little longer trial, for when I saw her, she
seemed to be of a weak constitution.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XLVI. To the Mother-Prioress and Religious of the Convent of St. Joseph del Salvador, at Veas.

This letter is remarkable for what the Saint says about St. Joseph
having assisted and encouraged her. She speaks of her journey to Toledo,
&c. Date, 1576. Carta L. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. Mary. Joseph. May they embrace the souls of my dear daughters in the convent at Veas.

Since I left your house, I have not had a moment's rest. God be praised
for it. In order to comply with your commands, my mother-prioress, and
for the consolation of my daughters, I now write to inform you that a
short time after I had arrived at the house of SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Maria, I
found all my body in such violent pain, that it seemed as if my very
soul were torn in pieces. But in the midst of my affliction I received
the greatest consolation from seeing, at my side, the glorious St.
Joseph, who comforted and encouraged me to pursue my journey in virtue
of holy obedience.

To-morrow, then, daughters, I shall set off without fail, though the
devil is enraged to see me going on my journey, because I am about to
snatch from his hands two souls whom he has held in captivity and who
will be useful to the Church.

For this reason, my daughters, have recourse to God in prayer, that so
you may help me on this occasion. Do your best, mother-prioress, that on
Thursday next we may give the habit to the physician's daughter, for
her virtue will supply the want of a dowry. I also recommend the sick to
your care. See that they are well attended to: and believe me, my
mother, that when you have no sick, you will lose every opportunity of
meriting. Tell the sisters to communicate during the whole of this month
for my intention, since I am a wicked creature: if you think otherwise
you are deceived.

I am very sorry my companion has got sore eyes. I send you this little
present of fruit, that you may all rejoice and be glad on Thursday next,
on the reception of the new sister. Let her be called Maria de San
Joseph. May God make you all saints, such as I desire you may become.

TERESA DE JESUS.

From the house of DoÃ±a Maria Faxardo, at Toledo. Monday, August 6th.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XLVII. To the Carmelites of St. Joseph's Convent at Seville.

Letter 1st. The Saint encourages and consoles them on account of a
violent persecution which had been raised against them and the reform.
She disapproves of the conduct of some of the sisters.
Date, 1579. Carta LI. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be with you, my daughters and sisters.

Be assured that I never loved you so much as I do now, neither have you
ever had such a good opportunity of serving our Lord as you have now;
for He bestows a great favour upon you, by making you taste something of
the bitterness of His cross, and of that abandonment which He felt when
hanging upon it. Happy the day on which you entered this city,
considering what a favourable time for meriting has been prepared for
you! I really envy your happiness; and, to tell you the truth, when I
heard of all the changes (which were told me without any exaggeration):
but above all, when I was told they wished to drive you out of your
house, together with other particular circumstances, and so far from
being afflicted at these trials, I felt the greatest interior joy,
seeing that without making you cross the sea, our Lord wished to show
you those mines of eternal treasures with which His Majesty is desirous
of enriching your souls, that so you may distribute part of them to
those who are around you. I trust in His mercy that He will help you to
bear your troubles, without offending Him in anything. Be not troubled
on account of your sufferings, for our Lord permits them, in order to
make you understand that you are not so strong as you supposed, when you were so desirous of sufferings.

Courage, my daughters, courage. Remember that God does not send us more
troubles than we can bear, and that His Majesty is ever with the
afflicted; since, then, this is certainly the truth, you have nothing to
fear, rather should you hope in His mercy, that the truth will be truly
discovered: then will be known what artifices the devil makes use of to
cause these trials, which have pained me more than all the troubles you
now endure.

Pray, pray, my sisters: let your humility and obedience now appear; and
may none be found more submissive to the newly-appointed superioress,
than you, sisters, and the late mother-prioress. O! what a favourable
opportunity you now have, for gathering the fruits of those good
resolutions which you made to serve our Lord! Remember that our Lord
often wishes to try us, in order to see if our works agree with
our words. Extend your hand to the children of Mary, who are your
brethren, in order to draw them out with honour from this terrible
persecution. If you assist them, our good Jesus will assist you: and
though He may sometimes seem to sleep at sea, yet when the storm rages,
He commands the winds to be still.[156] He
wishes us to invoke His assistance, and He loves us to such a degree,
that He is always seeking for our advancement in virtue. May His name be
blessed for ever. Amen. Amen.

All the Religious of our houses continually pray for you; this
encourages me to hope in the goodness of God, that everything will soon
be settled. On this account I wish you all to be cheerful, considering
that whatever you suffer for so good a God is but little, for One
too who has endured so much for us: remember you have not as yet shed
your blood for Him; that you are living among your sisters, and not
among the Turks. Let your Spouse, then, do whatever He wills, and in a
short time you will see how the sea will swallow up all His enemies,
just as it did Pharaoh and his army: then you who are God's own people
will be delivered. Hence you ought to feel desirous of suffering new
troubles, considering the great advantages you have already gained from
your past afflictions.

I received your letter, and I wish now I had not burnt what you wrote,
because it might have been useful to us on this occasion. You need not
have given up mine, according to the opinion of learned men in these
parts; but it is of little consequence. Would to God that all the faults
which they say have been committed were laid to my charge, though I
have deeply felt for those who have suffered so unjustly.

But that which grieved me the most was to find, that in the
"verbal-process" which the Father-Provincial drew up, certain things
were asserted which I know to be exceedingly false, because I was then
on the spot.[157] For the love of our Lord,
strictly examine and inquire if any of the sisters gave their
depositions either through fear or passion; for when God is not
offended, all the rest is nothing. But to tell lies to the prejudice of
our neighbour, this it is which wounds my heart. I cannot imagine
how people can do such things, since every one knows the candour and
virtue with which Father Gracian conversed with us, and the great profit
we derived from his instructions, and how much he helped us to advance
in the service of our Lord. This being the truth, it is a great crime to
publish such accusations, even though they were of little consequence.
Charitably remind the sisters of the fault they have committed. May the
Most Holy Trinity remain with you, and preserve you. Amen.

All the sisters tenderly commend themselves to you. They hope that when
the clouds have been scattered, Sister San Francisco will give them an
account of everything which has happened. Remember me to good Sister
Gabriella, and beg of her to be content. She must have felt great pain
on beholding Mother San Joseph[158] treated
in the way she was. I pity Sister San GarÃ³nimo, if her desires be
sincere: if they are not, I should have more compassion for her than for
all the rest.

I should have felt much more pleasure to have spoken with SeÃ±or Garcia
Albarez, than to have written to him; but I will not write to him now,
because I cannot say what I wish in a letter. Remember me to all the
sisters, to whom you may show this letter.[159]

Your unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XLVIII. To the Carmelites of St. Joseph's Convent at Seville.

Letter 2nd. The Saint congratulates the sisters on the choice they had
made of a prioress, and exhorts them to forget all they had suffered
during the persecution. Those also who had committed any faults, she
exhorts to amendment. This letter was written only two years before the
Saint's death. Date, 1580. Carta LII. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be ever with you, my sisters and daughters.

I received great consolation from your letters, and should have been
very glad were I able to answer each one in particular. But my
occupations are so numerous that I have no time, and therefore I trust
you will kindly excuse me, and take my will for the deed. It would give
me much pleasure to become acquainted with those who have lately made
their profession, and with those also who have taken the habit. I
congratulate them on the happy espousals they have contracted with so
great a King. May His Majesty make them such as I desire and pray they
may become, that so they may enjoy His presence in that eternity which
knows no end.

Tell Sister GerÃ³nimo, who signed herself "The Dunghill,"[160]
that she must take care her humility be not in words only. Inform
Sister Gabriella likewise that I received the picture of Saint Paul
which she sent me: it is very beautiful. I smiled when I thought how she
resembles him in her littleness. I hope in God that He will make her a
great saint in His sight. To tell you the truth, it seems His Majesty
wishes you all to be more perfect than the Religious here, since He
sends you such severe afflictions, that it will be very meritorious if
you make a good use of them. Praise be to God that you have succeeded so
well in the election. It has been a great consolation for me.

In our convents here we find by experience that our Lord seems to help in a particular manner the first superioress who is established in a new Foundation; that He gives her
more love for her Religious and the welfare of the house, than to those
who come after her; and thus the sisters are able to advance more in
perfection. In my opinion, then, the superioress ought not to be changed
in these (new) houses, unless some notorious fault be discovered in
her; for, in doing so, more inconveniences arise than one can imagine.
May our Lord so enlighten you, that you may be able to do His will in
all things. Amen.

I request Sister Beatrix de la Madre de Dios, and Sister Margarita also
(as I have before begged of you all), to forget what is past, and to say
no more about it, except to our Lord or your confessor, in order that
if they have been in any way deceived, or have not spoken with that
candour and charity which God requires of us, they may be on their guard
for the future to speak the truth with candour. If it be necessary to
make satisfaction, let it be made, for otherwise they will be very
uneasy, and the devil will not cease to tempt them. Provided they are
pleasing to our Lord, they have no cause to fear, even though the devil
should employ all his art against them, and run quite mad lest these
good beginnings should prosper. The only thing which ought to surprise
us is, that he has not done us greater harm in every way possible.

God often allows a soul to fall, that so she may become the more humble.[161]
And when she rises again, acknowledging her fault, and has a sincere
intention (of pleasing God), she makes afterwards greater advances in
the service of our Lord, as we see by the example of many of the saints.
On this account, my daughters, as you are all sisters, and all under
the protection of our Lady, endeavour to love each other tenderly, and
forget the past as if it had never been. I speak to all in general.

I have been particularly careful to recommend to our Lord those who
thought I was angry with them. But I am grieved, and shall be still more
so, if they do not fulfil what I beg of them, for the love of God, to
accomplish. I ever have before me my beloved sister Juana de la Cruz,
and have always thought she gained a great deal of merit (in this
persecution). As she took the name of "the Cross" at her profession, so
she has had to bear a good part for her share. Beg of her to remember me
to our Lord, for be assured that if there were a question of her sins
and mine (as mine are the greater), God would not have given such a
sharp penance to all. I hope all the sisters, too, will be of the same
mind, and not forget me in your prayers, since you are more obliged to pray for me than the sisters here. May our Lord make you such saints as I desire you may become. Amen.

The Servant of you all,

TERESA DE JESUS, Carmelite.

1580.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. XLIX. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of St. Joseph's Convent at Seville.

Letter 1st. The Saint wrote many valuable and edifying letters to this
holy Religious. The present letter was written from Malagon, when the
Saint was on her way to Toledo. By a decree of the General Chapter she
was forbidden to go on with her Foundations, and commanded to retire
into any convent she might choose. She chose that of Toledo. Date, 1576.
Carta LIII. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be with you.

O! how glad I should be to write to you more at length. But I have no
time, as I am obliged to write many other letters. I have, however, told
Father Gregorio to send you a full account of our journey. It is true
there are not many things worth mentioning; for we succeeded very well,
and were not much troubled by the heat. Thank God, we arrived[162]
in good health on Easter Tuesday. I found mother-prioress better,
though she is not quite well yet. Be very careful to recommend her to
God. I was much pleased with my interview with her. I beg of you to
write to me as often as possible, that so I may always know how you are
going on. Remember me kindly to Garcia Alvarez,[163]
and tell me something about the lawsuit, and about everything else,
but, above all, if it be true that our father has arrived: let me know
how he is.

I strongly recommend you not to allow any stranger to eat in the
locutory. Such a custom must not be introduced, though a dispensation
may be allowed in favour of our father,[164]
who is so very infirm: but it should be done without the knowledge of
any person. Should it, however, be known, people must remember there is a
difference between a superior and a subject; and as his health is so
necessary for us, all we can do for him is but little. For this object,
mother-prioress will send you a small sum of money, through the hands of
Father Gregory: she will also furnish whatever else he may require,
since she has indeed a great regard for him, and this induces her
willingly to assist him. It is proper he should know this, for, let me
tell you, you must not expect to receive any abundant alms in your
place, so that if you give to others what you receive, you will perhaps
have nothing for yourself to live upon. I earnestly wish, however, that
you should not trouble yourself about anything; but try only to serve
our Lord in peace. May His Majesty be pleased to hear my prayer for this
object. I hope Sister San Francisco will be a good historian, by giving
a correct account of all that has passed.

On leaving your house, this seemed poorer than ever. The sisters here suffer a great deal. Teresa[165]
was very sad during the journey, especially the first day. She said,
"this her sadness arose from leaving the sisters." But as soon as she
came here, she was so delighted that she could eat no supper the night
we arrived; she conversed with the sisters, as if she had been living
with them all her life. This gave me great pleasure, for I believe it is
very natural for her to have such affection for them. I will send you a
letter by Father GerÃ³nimo, and therefore I shall say no more at
present, except to beg of our Lord to protect you, and make you a saint,
that so all your Religious may become saints likewise. Amen. Be so good
as to give this letter into the hands of Father Gracian himself; if he
is not in Seville, do not send it to him, except by some trustworthy
person, for it is a letter of importance.

Your Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

Friday in Easter Week, 1576.

P.S.â€“Teresa does not write to you, because she is very busy. She says she is prioress, and desires her regards to you.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. L. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

Letter 2nd. This letter, as the bishop of Osma well remarks, is full of
good sense and admirable piety. The Saint assures the mother-prioress
that she has a great regard for her, and tells her to take care of her
health, &c. Date, 1576. Carta LIV. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS be with your Reverence.

I assure you, I feel the same regret for your absence as you say you do
for mine. I received your letter after I had written the one which I
send with this. I was so delighted on reading it, that I was affected
even to tears, and above all, on seeing you so humbly begging my pardon.
Provided you love me as much as I love you, I not only willingly pardon
whatever you may have done, but also whatever you may hereafter do.[166]
The greatest complaint which I now have to make is, that you seemed to
have but little pleasure when you lived with me. I know, however, it was
not your fault, as I told the prioress of Malagon, but that it happened
by the permission of our Lord, who, in the midst of the afflictions
which I suffered during my stay at Seville, was pleased to deprive me of
the consolation which otherwise I might have received from your
friendship.

But be assured that I consider those trials as abundantly recompensed,
and would have been willing to suffer still greater, provided thereby I
could obtain some repose for you and our sisters. Believe me, I love you
tenderly; and provided you have the same affection for me, I
shall consider the rest as mere trifles, to which not the least
attention is to be paid. But I must acknowledge that when I was at
Seville engaged in arranging your affairs, though I conversed with you
as my beloved daughter, I was pained to observe that you did not show
the same candour and love towards me. Your letter, however, has now
blotted out every unpleasant feeling from my heart; there only remains
an affection for you, so tender and sincere, that I am obliged to
remember something of what has passed, in order to lessen its intensity.

I am exceedingly delighted to hear how well your affairs have succeeded.
Be sure to arrange the agreement you spoke of, even though you should
not have very good security for the future. It is very dangerous and
unpleasant to enter into lawsuits, especially at the beginning (of a
Foundation). Be assured that the agreement will be more advantageous;
even should we gain our cause, lawsuits are dreadful things.

Endeavour as soon as possible to repay my brother, I mean, what he
advanced for the possession of the house. I am very anxious to have the
money paid, though he has received part of it. O! how delighted he is
with your letters! He can never stop speaking in your praise. The
letters pleased me likewise: but they were not well written, for
the more you try to write legibly, the worse you seem to get on! I shall
say no more about my brother or Teresa, for they both intend writing to
you.

I have written to the father-prior of the Carthusians; and to-day I must
write to Malagon on business, and also to our father (Gracian). I am
afraid I shall not be able just now to write to the sisters, for I am
occupied with numerous visits.

I am well aware of the kindness good Garcia Alvarez shows us, for great
is his charity. Tell him how much obliged I am to him. I was quite
delighted on receiving a letter from father-prior. My friends
exceedingly oblige me in acting as they do towards you. Take care to be
on terms of friendship with them; and if an opportunity present itself,
do something for Mariano and Brother Antonio,[167]
(for I do not wish them to fall out with you): but let it be done in
moderation. God forgive them, for all the disturbance which has taken
place among our fathers might easily have been avoided, and the matter
settled in some other way. Our father is quite grieved about it. He is
in good health, and the Nuncio has approved the step he took in not
returning to Andalucia.

You cannot say I write seldom to you. Often write to me, for I am always
pleased with your letters. I know nothing about what has taken place in
your part of the country, for our father sends me very short letters. I
suppose he has no time to write longer ones. God be with you, and make
you a great saint. After I had written the greater part of this letter,
Sister Gabriella wrote to inform me that she was very unwell with a pain
in her stomach.

May God keep her from being worse. I do not remember to whom I left you
in charge. I think it was to the sub-prioress. Be sure to obey her, and
as you love me, take care of your health, for I should be exceedingly
grieved if you had not your health. May our Lord grant it to you, as I
beseech Him to do. Remember me kindly to Mother Beatriz and Delgado. The
prioress here sends her regards to you. All the nuns rejoice at the
prosperity of your affairs. God grant it may continue. The priest[168]
came while I was at mass, and went away after saying mass himself. I
only had a moment to speak with him. Had he remained in the town I would
have done something for him. He told me he had company, so he went away
immediately.

Gabriella tells me likewise that you have fitted up the house very well.
I should much like to see it. I have not had time till now to read your
letters. I received great comfort from Father Garcia Alvarez's letter. I
shall write to him with great pleasure. I hope my daughters at Seville
will pardon me if I give the preference to one who has done so much good
for them.

Your Reverence's Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

Feast of the Visitation, 1576.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. LI. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

Letter 3rd. In this letter the Saint says she prefers in her houses
simplicity to knowledge. She also praises economy, &c. Date, 1576.
Carta LV. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. My daughter, may the Holy Spirit be with your Reverence.

I safely received your letter, dated November 3rd. I assure you your
letters never tire me; on the contrary, they give me comfort and ease
amidst my labours. I was quite pleased to see the date written in full,
though I hope in God this was not done through want of humility.[169]

I must tell you, lest I forget it, that the letter which was sent to
Father Mariano would have been very good, had there been no Latin in it.
May our Lord deliver all my daughters from presuming to write Latin. I
trust you will never do this again, nor permit others to do it. I am
much more anxious they should pride themselves on appearing ignorant and
simple, as many saints have been, rather than learned. See what you
have gained by sending your letters open to me. But as you have already
confessed this fault to our father, you will be more mortified for the
future (than to do such a thing).

Tell him (Father Gracian) that I made almost a general confession the
other day to the person of whom I spoke, and that I had not the
twentieth part of the trouble with him, that I used to have when I confessed to his Reverence. What a horrible temptation is this!

Recommend this my present confessor to our Lord, for he comforts me
exceedingly, and it is no easy matter to satisfy me. O! how well you
acted, in not choosing for your confessor the person who gave me so much
trouble in this place,[170] that I could
not find the least comfort in anything; for the pleasure I received from
our father was accompanied with a great deal of uneasiness, while you
who could have given me some consolation if you had been willing,
because you were one whom I loved, refused to do so. I am glad you now
know the affection I have for you. What shall I say of that other
Religious at Caravaca? May God forgive her; she, is however, now very
sorry for what she has done. Truth is powerful.

To-day a woollen habit was sent to me, which suits me better than any I
ever wore: it is coarse, but very light. I have already thanked them for
it; my old one was quite worn out, and not fit for the cold: they also
sent me some shifts of their own spinning, though we wear none here, not
even in summer. The sisters fast very rigorously. I now begin to think
myself a nun: pray to God that I may persevere.

The health of the mother-prioress of Malagon is much worse than it used
to be, though I am somewhat comforted in being assured that the disease
is not in her lungs, nor is she consumptive. They say that AÃ±a de la
Madre de Dios, a nun in the same convent, had the same complaint, and
recovered. God can do her the same favour also. I know not what to think
or say regarding the numerous afflictions which God sends that house;
for besides the sick, the rest are in great want: they have neither corn
nor money, and what is worse, they are greatly in debt. Our father has
ordered four hundred crowns to be sent them from Salamanca, which were
due to them for the house. God grant this sum may relieve them in their
necessity. I have already sent them part of it. Where they are, they
have had expenses of every kind, and on this account I really wish that
the prioresses of these houses which are endowed, and even of the others
also, would not be so liberal, nor spend so much as they do, for this
is the way to ruin everything. Poor Beatriz has had the care of the
whole house, she being almost the only one who was well, for
mother-prioress committed it to her charge, "through not having any
better person," as the saying is, May His Majesty preserve you, and make
you all saints. I must conclude, for I have many other letters to
write.

Your Reverence's Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

November 19th.

P.S.â€“I am very glad you bear so patiently the poverty of your house, and
that God tries the sisters in this way. May He be blessed for ever.
With regard to what you say about a mixture of linen and woollen, I
would much rather their dress should be of linen, when necessity
requires it, otherwise we might find it difficult to observe our
constitutions: but we fulfil them by wearing linen. The other stuff you
speak of would be almost as warm: neither one nor the other will do, and
so you must be content with that (which I mentioned).

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. LII.To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

Letter 4th. The Saint testifies great joy on receiving a novice who
brought with her sufficient to pay for the house in which they lived.
Other subjects are also mentioned. Date, 1577. Carta LVI. Spanish ed.
vol. i.

JESUS be with your Reverence.

O! my daughter, I cannot express to you the joy your letter gave me,
both on account of the good news it contained about your health, as well
as regards the novice who will do such a charitable work, by paying for
your house. God grant no obstacle may arise: this I beg of Him with my
whole heart. It would give me the greatest pleasure to see you enjoying
some repose. If she come among you, I entreat you to pay every attention
to her, for she deserves every kindness should be shown her. I wish I
had time to write more at length to you. But having written to-day to
Avila, Madrid, and several other places, I have such a pain in my head,
that I know not what I am saying now. I have received all the letters
you mention. But as you say nothing about the one I wrote to my father
the prior of the Carthusians, and which I sent open, that you might read
it, I fear it is lost. You must feel very lonely without our good
father.

Tell SeÃ±or Garcia Alvarez that he is now more than ever obliged to be
our father. I was very glad to hear one of his relations had entered our
Order: remember me kindly to him, and also to the sisters of Paterna,[171]
to whom I should be glad to write, if I had time. Send them this
letter, that they may see I am in good health, and that I was glad to
hear from them, and to know that Margarita and her confessor were going
on well.

The sisters there must not be surprised at their being unable
immediately to become like us: it would be foolish to require such a
thing from them. They must not be so scrupulous about speaking to one
another, and with regard to many other things which in themselves are
not sinful. This would tend to lead them into the danger of sin, instead
of taking it away from them, because they are accustomed to quite a
different life. Time and patience are necessary till God is pleased to
work in them, for otherwise we might make them fall into despair. Let us
pray earnestly for them.

I do not approve of the prioress allowing the Religious to be
disrespectful to her: if it could be done, she might appear as if she
heard nothing against her. Those who are in authority should know that
after they have entered the convent, God permits many things to happen
to them, that so they may bear them with great meekness. May our Lord be
with you, my daughter: and may He direct you and all the Religious, to
whom I beg to be remembered.

Tell the prioress of Paterna that I am astonished she makes no more
mention, in her letters, of Sister San GerÃ³nimo than if she were not in
the house, though she may perhaps be more holy than herself. Tell her
also to let me know how she is going on, and that I wish Sister San
GerÃ³nimo to write to me. Exhort them both from me to put all their
confidence in God, that so they may succeed in their undertakings, and
that they must not imagine they can do anything of themselves.

I am well. The prioress of Malagon is about the same as usual. Tell me
if our father brought with him sufficient money for the journey, for I
have heard he has not. Be so good as to send him this letter by a trusty
messenger, and as soon as you possibly can. I am very sorry that Fiscal
is about to leave Seville. It seems to me God wishes it to be known,
that He alone can do all things. Remember me to the prior of the
Carmelites, and tell my good brother Gregorio to write to me,

Your Reverence's Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

January 17th, 1577.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. LIII.To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

Letter 5th. The Saint thanks her for the presents she had sent her,
approves her method of prayer, and that of another sister in the same
convent, but at the same times blames the indiscretion of two other
Religious, &c. Date, 1577. Carta LVII. Spanish ed. vol. i

JESUS. The Grace of the Holy Spirit be with your Reverence, my daughter.

Since your letter contains such good news, and is accompanied, too, with
the kind presents you have just sent me, it is only reasonable I should
write to you at some length, at least to thank you. But as I wrote
yesterday to you, I trust it will be sufficient: besides, the number of
letters which I have written this winter has so fatigued my mind, that I
have been very ill, though now I am a little better. However, I seldom
or ever write any letter myself, because the doctor tells me I must not
do so, in order that I may regain my strength.

I am much pleased with your method of prayer. It is no want of humility
to know that God gives you this, together with other favours, provided
you remember this gift is not yours. He makes us understand when our
prayer comes from Him. I continually praise our Lord that you make such
great progress, and I shall endeavour to provide for you all the help
you require. Beg of Him I may become such, that my petition may deserve
to be heard.

With regard to the method of prayer used by Beatriz, I find that it is
good and proper; but prevent as much as possible her conversing about it
with others. Know that you are bound to do so as prioress. Sister San
GerÃ³nimo does not speak of such things here, for once, when she began,
the prioress stopped her immediately, and even threatened her, so that
then she was obliged to be silent; and you know that when I was at
Seville, she did not hesitate to go on the same way. I know not if we
did wrong in allowing her to leave us. God grant she may go on well.
What a thing it would have been, if the other nuns had found the note
she sent to the prioress! God forgive those who commanded her to write
such a letter. If your father chose, he might write to her on the
subject with great severity. Read this letter I now write to you, and,
if you think proper, you may send it to him. You do quite right in not
allowing the sisters to speak to any one.

The prioress of Veas informs me, that her nuns mention nothing but their
sins to their confessor, and by this means they can all finish their
confession in half an hour. She tells me she should do the same in all
the rest of our convents, adding that, as they consult only her, they
enjoy the greatest consolation, and have a tender love for their mother.
Your Reverence may tell them, that as I have some experience in matters
relating to prayer, why should they seek among others that which
perhaps they do not possess? Why not write to me? In this country such a
precaution is more necessary than in any other. Tell Sister San
Francisco to allow the other Religious to eat meat after Lent is over,
and not to let her fast. I should like to know what she means by saying,
"God gives her such great strength that she cannot explain herself."
What a trouble it is to see her always weeping in presence of the other
sisters, who cannot help noticing how often she writes. Endeavour to
procure some of her letters, and send them to me: but, above all, give
her no hopes of speaking with any other person on the matter, except
with our father, otherwise she will be ruined.

Let her know that such language is less understood in Seville than she
imagines, although there can be no harm in speaking at confession with
Father Acosta.[172] Still, I am confident that even this is not so suitable for her
as it is for the others. I warmly approve the order given to allow a
little more liberty to the nuns at Paterna; but it would have been
better not to have begun with anything which they were obliged to
observe; for then they would not afterwards have required a
dispensation. You have done very well in exhorting them to live up to
the rules of the community, for in matters of reform, when people obtain
any concession, however small, by force of clamouring, they immediately
imagine that they have only to continue in order to obtain everything.

As I am not writing this letter all at once, I know not whether I have forgotten to answer all your inquiries. I send you some bolts,
which are like those we have to our choir-grates: I consider it
unnecessary they should be finer than ours, though I foresee you will
not be pleased with them. But try and conform yourself to the nuns of
this convent, who have been no less delicately brought up than yourself.
After all, these little bolts are more convenient than any other sort,
for I do not know what other kind you mean. The crucifixes are now being
made: they will cost about a ducat each.

You will find in this packet the different explanations which have been
given of the words which at first I had proposed to my brother, that so
he might ask an explanation of them from others. The persons consulted
agreed to send their answers to St. Joseph's convent, and to abide by
the decision of the Religious there. The bishop, who was present,
commanded the answers should be sent to me, and that I was to give my
opinion of them. My poor head, however was not in a fit state to read
them. Show them to the father-prior and to Nicolao; but you should
inform them of all the circumstances connected with them, and that they
must not give any judgment till they have read the answers. If possible
return them to me, because our father will be will pleased
with them, and the Religious of Avila have begged of me to let them see
them, though the courier would have to go out of his way.

I send you the letter which my brother wrote to me, in order that you
may see what great favours our Lord bestows upon him: he has written
many others also to me, but this was the first that came to hand. I
think you will be pleased to see it, as I know you love him. When you
have read it, tear it up, and remain with our Lord. I should never come
to an end, did I not feel my head getting bad, May His Majesty make you a
saint.

Your Reverence's Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

March 2nd. 1577.

P.S.â€“You may feel obliged to me for having written this letter myselfâ€“a thing which I have not done of St. Joseph's Avila.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. LIVTo Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

Letter 6th. This letter seems to have been written before the
persecution at Seville had terminated. She shows the greatest affection
for the prioress and sisters of that convent. Date 1579. Carta LVIII.
Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be with you, my daughter.

I feel more love than ever for the Religious of your Order, but especially for yourself, because you
have suffered the most. Be assured, however, that even though I should
hear of your being deprived of a voice in the elections, and of every
office connected with your charge, I should still feel the greatest
consolation, because, though I know my daughter is a great sinner, yet I
know well she fears God, and that she is not capable of doing anything
against His Majesty, which could deserve so severe a punishment.

I hope our Lord may so dispose things that the truth may be discovered,
and your innocence likewise. They have not acted with sincerity in this
business. I was extremely grieved when I heard the dispositions of the
"Verbal Process" which were drawn up, and in which were accusations that
I know were perfectly false, for I was at Seville at the time. Now that
I know what has passed between these sisters, I heartly thank our Lord
that He has not allowed any more calumnies to be spread about. Those two
souls give me much trouble, and it is quite necessary that we should
pray for them in particular, that so it may please our Lord to enlighten them. From the moment I saw how Father Garcia Alvarez[173] acted, I feared the consequences which I now behold.

I was quite pleased with that part of your letter, in which you mention
the compliments that have been paid to you about the bell-tower. You
have reason to be pleased, if it is as fine as you say. I hope in
God your house will prosper more and more, for you have all endured
great trials. You explain yourself so well in all you write to me about,
that if my superiors were of my opinion, they would elect you as
foundress after my death: even during my life I wish with all my heart
you were considered as such, for you both know much more than I do, and
are better adapted for the office.[174] What
I say is really the truth. I may perhaps have a little more experience
than you have; but henceforth no attention should be paid to me, for you
would be surprised to see how old and feeble I am becoming: I am fit
for nothing. Remember me to all the sisters. May His Majesty preserve
you, my daughter, and make you a great saint. Amen.

Your Reverence's Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. LV. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

Letter 7th. This letter was written at the time when the persecution was
still raging at Seville. The Saint exorts the prioress to patience, and
speaks on several other topics. Date, 1578. Carta LIX. Spanish ed. vol.
i.

JESUS be with your Reverence.

I assure you, my daughter, I derive such great pleasure from your
letters, that I am continually wishing to hear from you. I know not how
it is, that I have such a particular love for your house and for the
Religious who dwell there. It is, perhaps, because I have suffered so
much for them: thanks be to God, I am now nearly well for the fever has
left me, though I am still troubled with a bad cold.

I knew well you would suffer from those evil reports, and the conduct of
the Calced fathers. They must have given you a great deal of trouble.
But as God has delivered us from Father Tostado, I hope His Divine
Majesty will favour us in everything. But we must pray continually and
earnestly, that so our Lord may deliver us from this persecution, and
our houses may enjoy some repose. But while our Most Reverend
Father-General is so indisposed towards us, I can tell you we shall not
want opportunities of meriting. As you know everything about our father,
I shall say nothing now respecting our affairs. I only beg of you, for
the love of God, to be very punctual in sending me an account of every
thing, when our father has no time to write himself; take care also to
give him the letters I shall write, and to send me his letters. Though
he is at Seville, you know the fears we have with regard to the letters:
what will it be then when he is further off?

The postmaster of this town is cousin to one of our nuns at Segovia. He
came to see me, and assured me he would do great things for her. His
name is Fiqueredo. We made an arrangement about the letters: he told me
that provided you were careful to give the letters directly to
the chief postmaster, I might hear from you almost every eight days. O!
how very agreeable and convenient this arrangement would be! He also
said that if you put on the coverâ€“"For Fiqueredo,"â€“the Head Postmaster
at Toledo,â€“the letters would never be lost. All this will give your
Reverence some trouble: but I know you are willing to bear still greater
for my sake, just as I should do for you.

Be assured I often feel a great desire to see you; and it seems, when I
have this desire, as if I could do nothing else. I assure you this is
the truth. Inquire what is the title by which we are to address the
postmaster; whether we are to call him "Magnifico" or not. I see he
lives quite in grand style. On account of the opportunity I shall have
of hearing from you so often, I shall be pleased to remain at Toledo;
for at Avila I should not have the same advantage, either in this
respect or in other ways. I am only sorry on my brother's account, for
he will feel my absence exceedingly. You do wrong in not writing to him
sometimes. By this letter of his you will see how ill he is: but thank
God he has no fever.

I never think of keeping those letters which they write to me about
Teresa. All the nuns assure me that her virtues cover them with
confusion, as well as her fondness for the most humble offices. She
continually tells them they must not esteem her (the more) for being the
niece of the foundress, but rather despise her. All the sisters love
her much. They say a thousand kind things about her. I tell you these
things that you may praise God for them, since it is to you all she is
indebted for the good sentiments she has imbibed. I am very pleased to
hear that you commend her to His Divine Majesty.

I have a great regard for her father: but I must tell you that I feel
much comfort in being at a distance from him. I cannot understand the
reason of this, unless it be that the pleasures of this life only cause
disgust in me (which I think proceeds from the fear I have of being
attached to any earthly thing), and so I think it better to avoid the
occasions. Now, however, I should wish to be a little nearer my brother,
so as not to show any ingratitude for the favours he has bestowed upon
me, and in order that he might be able to arrange certain matters, for
which he thinks my presence necessary: he intends to wait till my
arrival.

Though I sent away the postulant which Father Nicolao had recommended,
yet as he wrote to me again about her, I examined the matter still more;
and though our father saysâ€“"she is not fit for the Order," yet I did
not like to turn her away a second time, because you may see it
necessary to try such a person well. She might perhaps make a good nun.
Speak on this subject with our father if you are really in want, and try
to discover her faults, for I shall say but little about her to him,
because I see your affairs are in a bad way.

I was much pleased to hear that you knit stockings, and gain something by your labour. God will help those who help themselves.[175]
With regard to the question which you ask, viz., if it would be proper,
in order to pay the rent you owe, to sell the annuities, I think it is
clearly for your advantage to get out of debt. With regard to the other
points, it is a sad thing for your house (which is now so poor)â€“to take a
person without having any dowry. To receive her, however, solely for
the love of God, is allowable. As yet you have never received any one
for charity; if you receive this person, God will help you, and perhaps
send you others who are rich, and then they will make amends for her.
Receive her then, as our father is so earnestly importuned to speak to
you about her; you must not refuse him, only take care not to be too
hasty in receiving nuns, for it is of the greatest importance to know if
they are fit for us. I believe the only defect in the postulant
recommended by Father Nicolao is, that she is a little too simple.

What I told you about the niece of Garcia Alvarez, is I believe quite
true: Cavallar also mentioned it to me. I do not think it is DoÃ±a
Clemencia, but the other lady. You may candidly tell Garcia Alvarez that
you have been told she is very subject to melancholy. Cavallar plainly
told me she was mad, and therefore I spoke no more about her to him:
even were this not the case, you must not at present add to the
expenses of the house, but, on the contrary, try to get out of debt as
soon as possible. Let us have a little patience, for considering the
disturbance the Calced fathers have raised, I am not surprised that no
one offers to enter the Order.

Write down what you spend in the postage of letters, that so you may
repay the forty ducats which the nuns of St. Joseph's at Avila sent you.
To act otherwise would not be civility, but foolishness: it is with
reason I give you this advice. But how could you think of sending me
money now? Your liberality made me smile, for I was pained to know what
difficulty you had in procuring the means of subsistence. However, the
money came very opportunely: it will help to pay the postage of my
letters: may God reward you. I thank you for the orange flower water:[176]
it came quite safe. I am also obliged to Sister Juan de la Cruz for the
veil she sent me. However, I do not wish you to do the like again: when
I wish for anything, I shall be sure to let you know it: with greater
freedom I will ask it of you than from those with whom I am more
intimate, because I am persuaded that you and all the Religious will
willingly grant what I ask.

The person who had such a good voice did not return. I am using every
means to find you some suitable subjects. O! how anxious I am that you
should receive the water! So anxious am I that I am afraid you will not
obtain it. Still I have some hopes that Father Mariano, or our father,
may prevail over Father Buenaventura, who is the superior of the
Franciscan fathers. May our Lord provide it for you: it would be a great
comfort for you. You judge right in supposing that our father is about
to depart for Avila; I should much rather be there than here, even
though I should spend some unpleasant hours with the bishop. I am quite
surprised to see you all so happy, God has brought things round more
wonderfully than ever we expected. May He be praised for all His favours
and grant your reverence a long life.

In order not to afflict you I did not wish to tell you how grieved I am
on account of the illness of the prioress of Malagon, though our Lord
can cure her. But independent of the love I have for her, the loss which
her death would cause just at this time would be very great indeed. I
should like to have her brought here, but our doctor tells me she would
not live a month in this place: whereas she may live a year in her
present abode. May our Lord restore her to her health: I trust you will
not forget to pray for her, for she is given up by the physicians, who
say she is in a deep decline. Be careful how you drink the mineral
waters, however good they may be for taking away pains in the stomach.
The prioress and all the sisters desire their kind regards. I am very
sorry to hear of the illness of my good father the prior. We do not
forget to pray for him. Let me hear how he is, and tell me also what has
become of Delgado. Remember me to all the Religious and to those
fathers you think fit. May God be with you. What a long letter I have
written! But I was glad to hear all the sisters were well, and above all
your Reverence: since I am ever anxious for the health of our
prioresses, of whom we stand so much in need. May God protect you, my
daughter. I sometimes hear from Caravaca and Veas. They are full of
troubles at Caravaca; but I hope in God they will soon be free from
them.

Your Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS

September 7th, 1578.

P.S.â€“Now that we write oftener to each other, how is it you never say a
word about Brother Gregorio? Remember me kindly to him, and tell how
your affairs are going on. If you do not write and let me know
how everything is going on, no one else will. I should like to hear on
what terms you are with Father Antonio de Jesus. I will not write to
Father Nicolao, till I hear from you. When you send three or four
letters together, you must pay half a real for the postage; if there be
more than four you will have to pay more. As I know by ex-experience
what a misery it is to be in want, and how difficult it is to get money
at Seville, I dare not at present absolutely refuse Father Nicolao.
With regard to the postulant, our father must hear what both parties
have to say, and then he will be able to form a judgment: but as he is
now so much occupied, he may not advert to the matter.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. LVI. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

Letter 8th. The Saint complains of the prioress neglecting to inform her
how affairs were going on. She also praises Father Nicolao de Jesus
Maria, who was the first General of the Discalced Carmelites, though
once he was a secular priest. He was a very holy and prudent man. The
prioress to whom the Saint addresses this letter, had been deposed from
her office during the persecution at Seville; and as she refused to be
elected a second time, St. Teresa sweetly exhorts her to agree for the
good of the convent, &c. Date, 1579. Carta LX. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be with you, my daughter.

I know not the reason why you are so long silent, especially at a time
when I am so anxious to know how affairs are going on. I assure you I am
not silent here, respecting the welfare of your house. I wish to inform
you that Father Nicolao is now prior of Pastrana: he came to see me,
and his visit gave me great comfort. I praised our Lord for having given
us and our Order such a fit subject, and a man of such eminent virtue.
It seems as if His Majesty has chosen him to be the instrument of good
to our house, considering how many labours and troubles he has endured.
Recommend him frequently to our Lord, for you are bound to do so.

You must not refuse, my daughter, to accept again the office of
prioress; to do so would be a foolish kind of perfection. We all desire
you would accept it, and we try our utmost to accomplish this object;
the reasons you give are mere trifles. It is not a matter relating to
your Reverence alone: the whole Order feels interested in it, and the
glory of God also so strongly requires your consent and acceptance, that
I wish the business was already accomplished, both for the honour of
the house, and for the consolation of our Father Gracian. Even were your
Reverence not suitable for the office, you could not help accepting it:
how much more, "when we have nothing better," as the proverb says? If
God shall do us this favour, you must be silent, and obey, and not say a
word, otherwise you will make me very angry with you. What I have said
will, I trust, be sufficient to let you know that we are quite aware you
do not desire the office. It is, indeed, a heavy cross: this I
know by experience, so that no one need tell me. But God will help you,
and I already foresee the storm will blow over.

I should be very glad to know if those sisters are sensible of their
fault, or if they oppose you in anythingâ€“in a word, how they are going
on, for I am in great trouble with regard to their souls.[177]
I beg of you, for the love of God, to give me a full account of
everything. By means of the archbishop, you may send your letters to
Roque de Huertas, and he will forward them to wherever I may be. Sister
Isabel de San Pablo will write and let you know all that happens here,
because I have no time myself to do so. Give my kind regards to my
daughter Blanca, and tell her I am quite pleased with her, and very
much obliged to her parents, for the kindness they have shown your
Reverence. Thank them on my part.

I assure you, that what has happened in your convent is quite a history
which astonishes me, and makes me desirous of hearing the whole affair
related with truth and clearness. Write and tell me how those two nuns
especially are going on; for as I said before, I feel quite concerned
for them. Remember me to all my sisters, particularly to my Gabriella,
and Sister San Francisco: and tell the sub-prioress, she must consider
this letter as written to herself.

Just this moment I have been called to speak to Father Nicolao.
To-morrow I shall depart for Valladolid, for our father the
vicar-general has commanded me to go there as soon as possible; thence I
shall go on to Salamanca. There was no great necessity for my going to
Valladolid: but SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Maria and the bishop requested me to come.
It is, however, absolutely necessary that I should go to Salamanca, for
the house there which the sisters occupy is very unhealthful, and they
have a great deal of trouble with the person from whom they bought the
house: he really torments the life out of them, and day after day they
suffer some vexations: what they have already endured has been very
afflicting. Beg of our Lord that we may be able to purchase another more
convenient house, and one that may be got cheap. May His Majesty
preserve you, my daughter, and allow me to see you once more before I
die.

I depart to-morrow: hence I am now so busy, that I am unable to write to
all my daughters, nor have I time to say more. Let me know if they
received my last letter.

Your Reverence's unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

June 24th.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. LVII. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville

Letter 9th. This letter was written after the mother-prioress had been
re-established in her office by the command of the Vicar General, Fray
Angel de Salazar, who had received power for this object from the Pope's
Nuncio. Date, 1579. Carta LXI. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be with your Reverence.

My daughter,â€“It is with great reason that I give you this title, for
though I have always loved you tenderly, I now love you so much more,
that I am surprised at myself: hence, I feel extremely desirous to see
you and embrace you. May our Lord be praised, from whom comes every
blessing, because He has made you victorious in a battle which has been
so terrible. I do not attribute the victory to your virtue, but to the
fervent prayers which all the nuns have been offering up for your
success.

God grant we may be such, that He may accept the thanks we give Him for such a great blessing.

Father Provincial sent me the letter which the sisters wrote to me, and
Father Nicolao gave me yours; by these I find that you are
re-established in your office; and this gives me the greatest
consolation, because this was the only thing which could have calmed our
mind. Have patience: and since God has given your Reverence such a
desire for suffering, you should be glad to have the opportunity of
seeing it fulfilled in that, which I know has no small labour attached
to it. If we were allowed what we liked and to leave other things which
we disliked, that would not be imitating the example of our Spouse, who
suffered so much for us in the garden during His passion: thus did He
conclude His prayer: "Not my will, but Thine be done." This will we must ever accomplish, by doing whatever He requires of us.

I have requested Father Nicolao to give your Reverence what advice he
thinks best for you, because he is very prudent, and he knows you.

I shall give my consent, therefore, to whatever he shall command your
Reverence to do. All I beg of you is, that you will allow your Religious
to speak as little as possible with any one, except with our Discalced
fathers: I mean in matters relating to their souls. You must not be
troubled you do not have them often to hear confessions, and that on
this account your communions are less frequent. I tell you again, you
must not trouble yourself about this matter, because it is of more
importance not to have the trials you lately have had to endure.

If any of the fathers or nuns wish to change their confessors sometimes,
you may grant them this favour. I have so little leisure, that I did
not think of writing to you now. Remember me very kindly to all the
nuns, and thank them for me for having entered so willingly into my
views, so as to have given me such pleasure (by having re-elected you).[178] May our Lady reward them and give them her benediction, and make them all saints.

I think you can hardly refuse to receive the eldest daughter of Henrique
Freyla, considering how much we are indebted to him: however, do just
as Father Nicolao shall tell you: to him I refer you. With regards to
the youngest, it is not at all proper you should receive her now,
because she is yet too young, and also because three sisters seldom
agree together in the same house, and above all in ours, where the nuns
are so few. But we must try and satisfy the parents, and say that her
reception is deferred on account of her youth: we must not give them any
pain.

O! if you did but know what great grief my brother felt when he heard of
your sufferings! May God give you that rest and peace which are so
necessary for you, for then my brother will be consoled. Send me the
full particulars of everything, and especially how those two poor
Religious are going on, and who must be in such trouble. Show them all
the kindness you can, and endeavour to bring them back to a sense of
their fault. Please God I shall leave here[179]
on St Ann's Day. I shall remain for a few days at Salamanca. You may
direct your letters to Roque de Huerta. All the Religious here desire to
be kindly remembered to you and the sisters. We are greatly indebted to
them.

Our houses here are in such a good state, that we have reason to praise
God for it. Recommend to His Majesty our affairs at Malagon, and also
the business which brings me to Salamanca: and do not forget, especially
at this time, every one to whom we are in any way indebted. To-day is
the feast of St. Mary Magdalene. I am so engaged just now, that I know
not how I find time to write to you. I have been obliged to do so at
intervals: for this reason I cannot write at present to Father Gregorio,
though I had some thought of doing so. Write and send him my respects,
and tell him I am glad to hear the good part he took in the late war
against you, and I hope that he will share in the spoils. Tell him how
our father-prior of the Carthusian is going on, in order that I may be
able to write to him about our affairs.

Your Reverence's Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

1579.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. LVIII. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

Letter 10th. This letter is very admirable, and treats of several
subjects the nature of which will be seen by its perusal. Date 1580.
Carta LXIII. Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The grace of the Holy Spirit be with your Reverence.

My Daughter,â€“To-day being the eve of the Presentation of our Lord, I
received your Reverence's letter, and also the one sent by my sisters. I
was quite pleased with them, and I cannot think the reason; for though
you have given me many crosses, still I cannot help loving you very
much, since I can easily forget all that is passed. And now, as I see
your house has improved so much by your late sufferings, this makes me
love it the more. God be praised that everything has ended so well. I
think you must find yourself a little better,[180] since your Religious do not now complain so much of you, as they used to do.

With regard to the tunic you wish to wear during the summer, if you will
do me a favour, as soon as you receive this letter, take it off, and
never mind the mortification you may feel. As all the religious know of
your illness, they will not be scandalised; and you will also please God
by complying with my wish. Do not act otherwise, for I know by
experience the great heat of the place, and it would be much better for
you and the sisters to follow the rules of the community, than to be all
ill. What I say, applies to all those who are in the same necessity.

I thank our Lord that the election was conducted so well, for they say
that when it is carried on in this way, the Holy Spirit always presides.
You should rejoice in the sufferings (attached to your office[181]),
and never give the devil an opportunity of making you dislike your
dignity. You amuse me by saying you shall be glad to know if I recommend
you to our Lord; I assure you, it is more than a year since not only I,
but all our houses, have done so: I requested them to pray for you, and
hence it is perhaps that your affairs have succeeded so well. May His
Majesty prosper them still more.

I knew that as soon as Father Nicolao arrived, everything would go on
well. But a short time before your Reverence was requested and commanded
to accept the office of prioress again, you were very near ruining us
all: you regarded only your own interest, but Father Nicolao had the
welfare of the whole Order at heart, and this depended on your
Reverence. Almighty God, however, has done the work. I wish he[182]
could remain here or at Seville, until this important affair was
concluded. I also wish he could come here for a time, that so I might
have an interview with him. It cannot be done now.

You already know that a few days ago, our father-vicar sent me a
"letter-patent" to go to Villanueva de la Xara, for the foundation of a
house; the place is near Roda. It is now almost four years since the
magistrates of that town requested us to go there: other persons also,
and especially the inquisitor of Cuenca, who was the procurator at
Seville, begged of us to make the Foundation. But I saw many obstacles
in the way, which prevented me complying with their wish. But Father
Antonio de Jesus and the prior of Roda have been there and have done so
much that I have resolved to go. It is twenty-eight leagues from this
place. I should consider it a great happiness if Seville lay in the way,
that so I might have the pleasure of seeing your Reverence, and
quarrelling with you, or rather of speaking with you; for I suppose your
sufferings have now made you an accomplished person.

I must return here before Easter, for I am allowed to remain only till
the Feast of St. Joseph. Tell the father-prior that if he should come
this way I shall be glad to see him. I wrote to his Reverence by the way
of Madrid; and I should have written much oftener both to you and to
him from this place, but I was afraid, lest the letters might be lost.

I was very glad to find my letters were not lost, for I told you what I
thought about the election of a sub-prioress, though you know much
better than I do what is the most suitable for your house. But I must
tell you it is very inconvenient for both the prioress and sub-prioress
to be ill. It is also just as inconvenient that the sub-prioress should
not know how to read well, or be unable to conduct the choir: this is
against our constitutions. Who can hinder you from sending to the
Locutory any one you like, when any business has to be settled? And whom
could you send if you were unwell yourself? I am persuaded that
Gabriella will do nothing but what you command her; and if your
Reverence should place her in authority over the sisters, she has virtue
enough not to give bad example. I should be glad, then, to see you make
choice of her. May God order everything for the best.

You make me laugh by telling me I must not believe all that Sister San
GerÃ³nimo says, as if I had not often said the same thing myself. You
know well that in a letter I once wrote to Garcia Alvarez (and which
your Reverence tore up) I said many things about her, in order that he
might not give any credit to her extravagances. However, I assure you
she is a good soul, and though she may now and then be a little foolish,
there is no comparison between her and Beatriz; for if she errs, it is
more through want of judgment than through malice. I may be deceived.
Provided you allow her not to confess to any one except to our Discalced
Fathers, I assure you she will come to herself. Sometimes she might
make her confession to Rodrigo Alvarez, and tell him my opinion about
her: always remember me very kindly to him.

I was quite delighted to see by the letters the great love the sisters
have for you, and this meets with my sincere approbation. Your letter
gave much pleasure and delight: would that I could say the same of the
one which Sister San Francisco wrote to me! hers gave me nothing but
sorrow, for in it seems to have had but little humility and obedience.
Take great care, then, that she advance in these virtues, for she must
have learned something wrong at Paterna. Forbid her to use such
exaggerations, for though she thinks she does not tell a lie by these
quibbles, yet such a style is quite opposed to religious perfection, and
particularly when she writes to people with whom she should always
speak with candour and clearness, for otherwise a superior may fall into
a thousand mistakes. Tell her what I have now said in answer to her
last letter: you may also tell her that when she corrects herself, I
shall be satisfied with her.

But I would much rather she would endeavour to please our Lord: it is of
little consequence whether she pleases me or not. O my daughter! would
that I had leisure, and that my head was well enough, to give you a long
account of all the things which have happened in this house. Thereby
your Reverence would learn experience, and you would even beg pardon of
God for not having informed me of everything, for I know you were
present. A good intention may free some of the Religious from blame, but
it will not be sufficient for others. Learn wisdom from experience; and
since you have such respect for the constitutions, be resolved to
observe them, unless you wish to gain a little in this world, and to
lose God in the next.

All the sisters here now see, and acknowledge, too, the perdition to
which they were hastening. Beatriz of Jesus is the only one who, though
she sees everything is discovered, yet loved the sister to such a degree
that she never informed me of anything, nor will she give me any
information now: hence, she has lost all the good opinion I once had of
her. Since my arrival, the father who used to hear their confessions has
not done so, and I believe he will not hear them any more, for he was
obliged to desist in compliance with the wish of the people, who were
terribly excited against the convent. He was certainly a person very fit
for his office, had he had reasonable people to deal with. God forgive
those who took him away from this house, in which he might have advanced
himself, as well as all the rest, in perfection.

He knew very well we had a right to do what we did: he sometimes comes
to see me. I returned him many thanks, and it is only proper I should do
so now: his simplicity quite pleases me. Youth and little experience do
a great deal of harm. O my mother! the world is so full of malice, that
it puts a bad construction on everything. If by the experience we have
already had we do not take care of ourselves, everything will get worse
and worse. Since a great part of the government has been confided to
you, I beg of your Reverence, for the love of our Lord, to be constant
in your attention to all those entrusted to you. I will do the same on
my part.

I am surprised you did not send me the verses, for no doubt many were
made on account of the election. I was glad to hear you had such
merriment in your house, provided it was in moderation. If I said
anything (severe), it was for some particular reason: my Gabriella was
the cause of it. Remember me kindly to her. I earnestly wish I could
write to her.

I take with me, as sub-prioress, San Angel; and the prioress I shall
take from Toledo, though I have not yet determined whom to choose.
Earnestly beg our Lord that He will accept this Foundation. I also
recommend Beatriz to your prayers. I feel much compassion for her. I am
pleased with what Margarita tells me, if things are there in the state
she says they are. If the sisters only see your Reverence loves them,
everything will come right in time.

I am astonished, on considering how much we are indebted to the
father-prior of the Carthusians. Send him my sincere respects and
gratitude. Tell all the sisters to pray for me, and do not forget
yourself to remember me, for I am now very old, and quite worn out.[183]
It is nothing wonderful that the father-prior has a regard for me, for
he only returns the esteem which I have for him. May God preserve him,
since he is a great treasure to us: you are, therefore strictly bound to
remember him in your prayers. May His Majesty be with you also, and
preserve you. Amen.

Your Reverence's unworthy Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

P.S.â€“You may judge by the length of this letter the great desire I had
to write to you, for this letter is four times longer than any I have
addressed to the prioresses of our other houses, and seldom am I able to
write to them myself. I am pleased to hear of the good order in which
the father-prior has put your affairs, for what is due to my brother
will not now be lost, whatever distress you may be in. All the sisters
here are quite happy, and the prioress is extremely good. I assure you
she is one of the best we have, and what is most important, she enjoys
perfect health. The convent is like a paradise. Many kind remembrances
to Father Gregorio; ask him why he forgets me. Kind regards to Father
Soto also. His friendship has been vary useful to your Reverence.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. LIX. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

Letter 10th. The Saint sends the mother-prioress an account of the death
of her brother, Lorenzo de Cepeda. St. Teresa bore her brother's death
with heroic fortitude and submission to the Divine will, as this
affecting letter clearly proves. Date, 1579. Carta LXIV. Spanish ed.
vol. i.

JESUS. The Holy Spirit be with your Reverence.

My mother,â€“It seems our Lord does not wish me to remain long without
afflictions, for you must know that He has been pleased to call to
Himself His good friend and servant, Lorenzo de Cepeda. He was seized so
violently with the "bloody-flux," that he died under it in less than
six hours. Two days before, he had received the Most Blessed Sacrament.
He died in his perfect senses, recommending himself very devoutly to our
Lord. I hope in the goodness of God that he is now in the enjoyment of
eternal glory, for he always lived in such a way as to have no other
care but to serve Him: everything else soon tired him; and on this
account he retired to his country house, which was about a league from
Avila, in order to avoid the noise and gaiety of the world.

His prayer was continual, for he always kept himself in the presence of
God: hence, His Majesty filled his soul with so many graces and favours,
that sometimes I have been quite astonished at them. He was very fond
of doing penance: he even did more than ever I wished him to do. He gave
me an account of all his interior life, and it was wonderful to see the
attention he paid to whatever I said: this I think arose from the great
affection which he had for me. I now return such affection by rejoicing
that he has left this miserable life, and is now in a place of repose.
This I say not for the sake of saying it: but I assure you, when I think
of his happiness I feel great joy.[184] I feel much for his children: but I hope God will help them, through the prayers of their father.

I have given your Reverence this exact account, because I know you will
be grieved to hear of his death, and this account may help to console
you all; for he certainly deserves to be regretted by the sisters. It
was wonderful to see what he felt, on hearing of your afflictions, for
great was the love he had for your house. Now is the time to repay that
love, by commending his soul to God: on condition, however, that if he
should not stand in need of your prayers (as I think he does not,
considering the life he led), they may be applied to those souls who
have greater need of them, in order that they may find some relief from
them.

I must tell you that a short time before his death, he wrote to me at
St. Joseph's convent in Segovia, where I now am, and which is eleven
leagues from Avila. In that letter he said many things with regard to
the shortness of life, which quite astonished me. And then, my daughter,
it is certain everything passes quickly away, we ought continually to
be thinking how to die a good death, rather than of the means how we are
to live. Since I must still remain in this world, God grant it may be
that I may serve Him in something. I am four years older than my brother
was, and yet God has been pleased I should survive him. I have now
quite recovered from my late illness, though I still have my usual
indispositions, especially a pain in my head.

Tell my father Rodrigo Alvarez that his letter just came when I wanted
it, for it speaks of the great advantage of afflictions. Tell him also
that I think God works miracles through him, even during his life: what
then will He not do after his death?

I have just heard that the Moors of Seville are conspiring together to
get possession of the city. What a fine opportunity you will all have of
becoming martyrs! Inquire if the report be true, and order the mother
sub-prioress to send me an account of every particular. I was very
pleased to hear you were in good health, as I was grieved before to hear
you were ill. For the love of God, take great care of yourself. I have
been told a good remedy for your disease, viz., dog-roses beaten to
powder, when they are dry, and about half an ounce should be taken every
morning. But ask the doctor about it. Let me beg of you not to be so
long again, without writing to me.

Remember me very kindly to all the sisters, and to San Francisco.
Mother-prioress and all the community here send their regards. It must
seem to you very delightful to be among standards and the tumults of
war,[185] if you only knew how to profit and
to draw spiritual reflections from all the strange things you must see
in that place. It is very necessary, however, for you to be on your
guard, in order not to be distracted. I am very anxious you should all
become saints.

What should you say if the Foundation of Portugal were made? Don
Teutonio, archbishop of Evora, informs me that the town is not more than
forty leagues from this place. I should feel great comfort were the
foundation commenced. Since God spares my life, I desire to do something
for His honour and glory; and as I have not long to live, I will not
spend my time so idly as I have hitherto done in past years during which
I suffered so much in my interior. As to other things, what I have done
is not worth speaking about. Beg of our Lord to give me strength, that I
may employ my time in doing something for His glory.

I have already told you, you may show this letter to Father Gregorio: I
hope he will consider it as addressed to himself, for I certainly do
love him in our Lord, and I have a great desire to see him. My brother
died on the Sunday after the Feast of St. John. May His Majesty watch
over you, and make you what I desire you to be.

Your Reverence's Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

July 4th, 1579.

The Letters of St. Teresa

No. LX. To the Mother Prioress and Religious of the Convent of St. Joseph at Granada.

This letter is remarkable for its severity, vigour, and spirituality;
for, whether the Saint wrote in anger or in love, everything that came
from her pen bears the impress of her heroic soul, which was always on
fire for the good of her Order. This letter is also interesting from
having been written only four months before the Saint's death, in 1582.
When the Saint was on the point of departing for the Foundation of
Burgos, the Foundation at Granada was also proposed to her. As, however,
she could not attend to it in person, she entrusted it to Mother Anne
of Jesus, who was then at Veas. She sent her two nuns from Avila to
assist her in this Foundation, one of whom was called Mother Maria de
Christo, and the other was named Antonia del Espiritu Santo. The
Provincial, on the other hand, commanded her to take the rest of the
nuns belonging to the convent at Veas. It seems she took too many, and
for this the Saint blames her, and the other Religious likewise, for
leaving their convent. Besides, she reproves them for not having sent
either her or the father-provincial an account of what they had done at
Granada. The rest of the letter treats of several subjects. Carta LXV.
Spanish ed. vol. i.

JESUS. The Grace of the Holy Spirit be with you all.

Very strange are the complaints you have made against our
father-provincial, considering how negligent you have been in writing to
him, since your first letter, in which you had informed him about
having made the foundation: you have acted in the same way towards me.
His Reverence was here on the Feast of the (Exaltation) Cross, and said
he knew nothing about you except what I had told him: this I merely
learnt from a letter which I received from the prioress of Seville, who
told me you were thinking of purchasing a house for twelve thousand
ducats.

It is not at all surprising that rather severe rules should be made for a
convent, in which such great prosperity reigns. But the deep artifice
you made use of in order not to obey has sensibly afflicted me, on
account of the bad example it may give to the rest of the Order, and
because the prioresses will be able to introduce a custom of taking
liberties, for which they will find plenty of excuses. If, as you say,
those gentleman be so stingy, it was very unwise to have taken so many[186]
Religious with you, and to have sent so many others back who had only
just arrived. I cannot imagine how you had the heart to make them come
such a long distance.

You should have sent to Veas those who arrived, and others also with
them: you did very wrong in having so many in the house, especially as
you saw those gentlemen were against it; and yet you thought of sending
for more from Veas: how could you have done so, when you had no
house which you could call your own? I certainly am surprised the
gentlemen had such patience. The whole affair was badly managed from the
very beginning: and since you have no other remedy than what you
mention, I think it best your Reverence should make use of it; for since
you take so much precaution in receiving nuns, the same precaution, if
not greater, is necessary for this affair. However, it seems to me your
precaution is far too great for such a large place.

I could not help laughing at the fright you gave us, by saying that the
archbishop would suppress the convent. At present I see no sign of such a
thing, nor do I see why I should make so much of it. He will die
before he can accomplish such a deed. If any want of obedience should be
introduced into the Order, it would be much better there had never been
a convent, because our advantage does not consist in having many
houses, but in having Religious who are holy to live in them.

I know not when your letters can be sent to our father-provincial. I
fear it will be near six weeks before he can have them, and even then, I
do not know how I shall send them by a safe courier, because he
has left here for Soria, and thence he goes to so many places on his
visitation, that we cannot possibly tell in what town or city he may be
found: neither can we know for certain when we shall hear from him, or
of him. As far as I can learn, he was at Villanueva, when the poor
sisters arrived: I was in great affliction, when I thought of the
trouble and shame he would have on seeing them, for as the town is so
small, it is impossible to keep their arrival secret; and it will also
do us no small hurt, when every one shall be made acquainted with such a
foolish act. You might easily have sent them to Veas, until the
father-provincial has been informed of everything, for they have not had
leave to return to the house whence they were taken, having been made
by the command of the provincial conventuals of Veas. I think, however,
that some remedy may be found for the evil: but your Reverence is the
sole cause of it, through not having mentioned how many Religious you
took with you, or if you received any lay-sister: indeed, you seemed to
take as little notice of the provincial, as if he had no authority
whatever.

According to what he told me, and considering how matters stand at
present, it will be impossible for him to come to you before the winter.
God grant that the father (vicar) provincial may be able to undertake
the journey, for I have just received a letter from Seville, in which
the prioress tells me that he has caught the plague (which is in the
city, though the public do not yet know of it): brother Bartolomi is
also seized with it, and this afflicts me exceedingly. Should you not
already have heard the sad news, earnestly recommend them to our Lord,
for their death would be a great loss to the Order. The father-vicar
writes in the postscript of her letter that he is a little better, but
not out of danger. The poor nuns are in great affliction, and with
reason, because they suffer martyrdoms in their house, and far greater
labours than the nuns in your house: and yet they do not complain so
much as yours do! It is not so great a torment to be confined in such a
small space, as to want health and nourishment; and since you are in
such high esteem with so many grandees, I see not what reason you have
to complain: we cannot expect everything to happen just as we wish.

Mother Beatriz informs father-provincial, that she expects the
father-vicar will send back to their convents the nuns of Veas and
Seville. In Seville they are not in a condition to receive them, and the
distance is very great; besides, it is in no ways proper to send them
back: when, however, there is any necessity for such a step, our father
will see that it is taken.

As for the Religious of Veas, it is so proper they should return, that
if I were not fearful of being the occasion of your offending God by
some act of disobedience, I would send an express command to your
Reverence, because in everything relating to the affairs of our
Discalced Carmelites, I hold the place of our provincial. In virtue,
then, of my authority, I direct and command that all those who have come
from Veas shall return back as soon as possible, except the
mother-prioress, Ana de Jesus: even though they should have a house
suitable in every respect, what use would it be, unless they had a
revenue sufficient to keep them from want? It is not wise to begin a
foundation with such a large community; and for many other reasons it is
better.

For some days I have been recommending this matter to our Lord (for I
did not wish to answer the letters immediately), and I find it is God's
will this should be done; the more repugnance you feel, the more must it
be done. It is quite opposed to the spirit of our Religious to be
attached to anything, even were it to their prioress, for this would
always prevent them from advancing in perfection. God wishes His spouses
to be attached to no one but Himself. I do not desire the house should
commence in the same way as that of Veas did; for I shall never forget
the letter which the sisters wrote to me from that convent, when your
Reverence gave up office. Attachments are the source of disunion and
other disorders which are not perceived at first. On this account, I beg
of you, for the love of God, not to follow this time any opinion but
mine; for when afterwards you shall be more securely established, and
the Religious more disengaged, then they may return, if it should be
considered expedient.

I don't really know who those are that have followed you, for you kept
this a secret from me and your father (provincial). I did not think your
Reverence would have taken so great a number with you; but they were
those who were very attached to your Reverence. Oh! true spirit of
obedience, which makes us have no repugnance in loving those who hold
the place of God. I beg of you, through love of the same God, to
consider that you are bringing up souls to be the spouses of our
crucified Saviour; for this reason you ought to mortify them in their
will, so that they may be not attached to trifles. Remember that you are
beginning a Foundation in a kingdom newly conquered,[187]
and that your Reverence and all the other sisters are obliged to
advance the more in perfection, not as weak and timid women, but like
strong and valiant women.

What does it matter, my mother, whether the father-provincial style you
president, or prioress, or call you by your name, Ana de Jesus? It is
certain that if you were not at the head of the community, people would
no more apply to you than to another, for there have been prioresses
like yourself.[188] As you have so seldom
written, it is no wonder they are ignorant whether you have been elected
or not. I assure you, I am quite grieved to see the Discalced
Carmelites so soon become attached to such mean trifles, and that they
should even make them the subject of conversation, and above all, that
Mother Maria de Christo[189] should take
great notice of such things! This seems so strange to me, that I believe
either her imperfections have affected her head, or the devil has been
using all his art to introduce diabolical principal into the Order.

After all, your Reverence is praised for being very courageous, as if
submission would take away your courage! May God give my Discalced
daughters the grace to be humble and obedient and submissive; for
courage without these virtues is nothing but the source of numerous imperfections.

I now remember that in one of the letters which I received a few days
ago, I was informed that one of the nuns whom you brought from Veas had
some relations in Granada, who had helped her much on her journey. If
this be the reason she is kept there, I leave it to your prudence to
keep her, or send her back, just as you think fit: but I do not give you
the same liberty with regard to the others.

I can easily believe your Reverence must have many troubles in this
commencement of the Foundation. Do not, however, wonder at it, for so
important a work cannot be accomplished without them, since the reward
(they say) is very great. God grant that the imperfections with which
such works are performed, may not deserve punishment rather than
rewards: this consideration always makes me fearful.

I will write to the Prioress of Veas, that so she may contribute
something towards the expenses of the journey, for which you yourself
have such slender means. I shall tell her, that if Avila were as near
(as Veas) I should be very glad to take back my nuns. This may be done
in time, by the help of our Lord, and so your Reverence may tell them
that as soon as the Foundation is finished, and you shall have a
sufficient number of Religious to supply their place, they must return
to their own house.

It is not long since I wrote to your Reverence, to other
mother-prioresses, and to Father John of the Cross, giving you an
account of all that had happened here. I do not, then, think it
necessary to write any more: this letter will be sufficient for all. God
grant they may not be offended with me, as they were with our father
(provincial) for calling your Reverence president: I mean as matters go
on at present. In this part we call them so, and not prioress, until
they are elected on our father's arrival: after all, prioress and
president are both the same.

I quite forgot to mention this. I am informed that the Religious of
Veas, even after the chapter has been held, got out of their house to
adorn the church! I cannot understand how this can be done, because not
even the provincial himself can give them leave, since the Pope, by a
"motu proprio," has especially forbidden it under pain of
excommunication: besides, the constitutions expressly forbid it. In the
beginning of the Order, this was not of such consequence, but now I am
very glad it is otherwise. Now we are not allowed to go so far as to
shut the gate. The sisters of Avila know well such a thing cannot be
done: I cannot imagine why they did not tell you so. Look to this
matter, for the love of God, for I am sure His Majesty will provide some
one to adorn the church: He can find a remedy for everything.

I feel quite grieved every time I think of the inconvenience you have
put those gentlemen to. I told you the other day to use every possible
exertion in order to find a house, even though it might not be
convenient in every respect; for whatever inconvenience you might suffer
yourself, it is not proper they should suffer who have done you
so much good. I have already written to DoÃ±a Ana, and I only wish I
could find words sufficient to thank her for all the favours she has
bestowed upon us. Our Lord, however, will not fail to reward her for all
that she has done in this affair.

If you desire anything from our father, remember you have not written to
him: and, as I told you before, it will be very late before I can send
your letters to him; however, I will send them as soon as I can. He will
have to go from Villanueva to Daimiel, in order to take possession of
the monastery, and thence he will proceed on to Malagon and Toledo, and
afterwards to Salamanca and Alva. When these visitations have all been
made, he will have I know not how many prioresses to elect. He told me
at his departure, he did not think he should be at Toledo before the
month of August. I am quite grieved to think of the long journeys he has
to make in such hot places. Pray for him, and induce your friends to
try all they can to purchase another house for you.

The sisters I spoke of may stay till you have informed his Reverence of
everything, and he will do what he thinks for the best, though you have
not given him an account of anything, nor even so much as let him know
the reason why you kept those Religious. May God grant us His light,
without which we cannot succeed in anything, and may He ever be the
guide of your Reverence. Amen.

Your Reverence's Servant,

TERESA DE JESUS.

May 30th.

P.S.â€“I have written to the mother-prioress of Veas, respecting the
journey of the nuns, and I have commanded her to receive them as
privately as possible: but it is of little consequence, even should it
be known. Give this letter to the mother sub-prioress, and let her and
her two companions and Father John of the Cross read it; my head will
not allow me to write any more.

The Letters of St. Teresa

APPENDIX.I.
Advices which the Holy Mother Teresa de Jesus gave to her Children during her life.

ADVICE I.[190][191]

"Once(says the Saint), when I was in the hermitage of Nazareth at the
convent of St. Joseph in Avila, it being the Vigil of Pentecost, and
while I was reflecting on the exceeding great favour which our Lord has
bestowed upon me on that same day twenty years before, I was seized with
an ecstasy, and with strong impetuous and interior movements, which
quite suspended all my senses.

"While I was in this wonderful rapture, I heard the following words from
our Lord, saying: 'Tell all the Discalced fathers, in my name, that
they must endeavour to observe four things, which, as long as they
faithfully observe, their Order will continue to increase more and more;
but if they forget them, let the fathers be assured they will soon fall
from their first favour.

1. "'The Superiors should always be of one mind.

2. "'Though they may have many convents there should be few Religious in each.

3. "'They must speak but little with Seculars, and this little should be for the good of their souls.

4. "'They should teach more by their works than by their words.'" [192]

"This rapture happened in the year 1579; and because what I have said is most certain and true, I have signed it with my name.

"TERESA DE JESUS."

ADVICE II.

This comprises a short, but very beautiful and edifying, exhortation,
which the Saint addressed to the nuns of Avila when she was made
prioress. This house was not one of the reformed, and the nuns were
exceedingly annoyed at our Saint being appointed the prioress over them.
She was commanded to accept the charge by the Apostolic visitor, Padre
Maestro Fray Pedro Fernandez. The nuns at first refused to receive her.
When she entered the house, most of them refused to obey her, because it
was their convent she had left in order to commence the work of her
reform. One day, however, she assembled them all in the choir, and
having placed an image of our Lady in the chair of the prioress, she sat
down at the feet of it. The nuns began to tremble, for they expected a
most severe reprimand But their hearts were quite changed when they
heard the Saint deliver the following sweet exhortation.

"My daughters, mothers, and sisters: by the obedience which I owe to my
superiors, our Lord has been pleased to send me back to this house to
exercise the office of prioress: I never thought of such a dignity,
because I knew I was far from deserving it.

"I was grieved at my election, both because a charge was given to me,
the duties of which I know not how to fulfil, and also because they have
taken away from you the right you should have of making your own
choice, and thus they have given you a prioress against your will and
pleasureâ€“a prioress, too, who would think she had done a great deal
could she only learn from the least amongst you the virtues which are practised in this house.

"I come to serve and to please you in everything I can, and I hope our
Lord will assist me for this purpose; with respect to everything else,
the least amongst you is able to teach me and correct me. You must,
then, my dear sisters, let me know what I can do for each one of you,
for I shall be most willing to do what you ask, even were it to shed my
blood for you.

"I am a daughter of this house, and your sister too. I know the
disposition and wants of all the Religious, or at least of the greater
part of them; you have no reason, then, to fear being under the
government of one who is wholly yours by so many titles.

"And though I have till now lived amongst my Discalced nuns, and have
been their prioress, nevertheless I hope through the goodness of our
Lord to be able to govern those who are not discalced. My desire is that
we may all serve our Lord with sweetness and humility, and through our
love of Him to whom we are so much indebted, that we may perform
what our rules and constitutions command us. I know our weakness is
great; but if we cannot fulfil all our observances, let us at least have
strong desires of doing so: our Lord is compassionate, and He will give
us strength to execute by little and little those desires and
intentions."[193]

ADVICE III.

This short discourse the Saint addressed to the nuns at Valladolid before she left them, and only three weeks before her death.

"My daughters, I leave this house quite consoled by the perfection which
I observe in you, by the poverty which you practise, and by the charity
which I know you exercise one towards another. If you only persevere as
you have hitherto done, our Lord will help you exceedingly.

"Each one ought to regulate her life in such a way, as not to neglect anything which may help her towards acquiring perfection.

"Never perform the duties of a Religious through mere custom; but strive
to do heroic acts, and these with greater perfection every day.

"Endeavour to conceive ardent desires, since from these you may gain
great profit, even though you might never be able to execute them."

ADVICE IV.

These words were addressed to a Religious belonging to another Order.

"All those things will be so many crosses to him who loves God as you do, and if you consider often that God alone is with you in this house, it will contribute much to the profit of your soul.

"While you have no office which obliges you to take care of the convent,
do not mind what passes in it, endeavour to imitate whatever you see
perfect in each Religious, and to love her the more for it: profit also
by the imperfections which you may notice in the other sisters.

"So great was the profit I drew from this exercise, that though there
was a great number of Religious in the convent where I lived, they were
no more trouble to me than if there had been none: on the contrary, I
gained advantages. In a word, we may love our great God in all places;
nor can any one hinder us from doing so. May He be blessed for ever."

ADVICE V.

The object of this advice is to show what advantage may be drawn from persecution.

"In order that the soul may gain some advantage from persecutions, it is
good to consider that they are directed rather against God than against
ourselves, because though we may receive the stroke, yet His Divine
Majesty received the blow first, by the sins we committed against Him.

"We should also consider that a true lover has already made this
agreement with her Spouse, viz., to belong entirely to Him, and to wish
for nothing out of Him. If then he has already suffered persecution, why
should not we also endure them? If we feel any pain, it should
be for having offended His Majesty, and not for what we suffer, since it
does not reach the soul; what is done is directed against this body of
clay, which deserves so much to suffer.

1. "Our desire ought to be to die or to suffer.

2. "No one is tempted more than he can bear.

3. "Nothing happens without the will of God. 'My Father, my Father, the
chariot of Israel, and the driver thereof,' said Elias to Eliseus."

ADVICE VI.

Those exhortations were intended by the Saint, after her death,
for Father Gracian, the first provincial of the reform. They were first
spoken by the Saint to the Venerable Catherine of Jesus, foundress of
the convent at Veas, the Saint appearing to her often after her death.

For the Father-Provincial.

This day, being Low Sunday, our holy mother appeared to me, and
commanded me to tell your Reverence several things which she mentioned
to me more than a month ago. But as they related to you alone, I
neglected to mention them to you by letter, thinking it would be time
enough when I should see your Reverence, for it is impossible to inform
you in detail of all she said. However, I shall mention some of them
here, in order that they may not be forgotten. The first is: "That you
must not allow any of your Religious to write about revelations, nor to
make any account of them, for though some of them may be really
authentic, yet it is quite certain that many are false; and it is
very difficult to discover the truth amidst a hundred lies." The
subject itself is full of danger, for many reasons which she gave me.

The first reason is, that the more revelations of this kind there are,
the more we are liable to fall away from our faith, which is more
certain than any revelation. The second is, because men are very fond of
such supernatural things, and they highly esteem that soul which is
favoured with them. This, however, is contrary to the order established
by God for the sanctification of the soul; for this must be effected by
the practice of virtue, and fulfilling the commandments.

She said: "Your Reverence should use all possible diligence in putting a
stop to this abuse, for it was very necessary to do so: otherwise (she
said) the greater part of women would be led away by these imaginations;
and as they have neither the prudence nor the knowledge of men to be
able to form a proper judgment of things, so they expose themselves to
very great dangers (by giving credit to these revelations).

On this account she said, "That she did not wish her daughters to apply
too much to the perusal of the works she wrote, especially her 'Life '
fearing they might be tempted to believe that perfection consists
in these revelations; and thus they might feel desirous of having them,
and try to imitate her in this way." She said several things to me on
this subject, which are very true, viz., "That she did not acquire the
glory she now enjoys by means of the revelations which she had during
her life, but by her virtues; that your Reverence, though intending to
do good, quite ruins the souls of the Religious by allowing them to give
way to such things; that, though some of them should have true
revelations, yet it is necessary you should disapprove of them, and give
no more credit to them, as if they were nothing at all, because they
often hinder, rather than advance, the soul." Her reasons were so
powerful, that I have abandoned the intention I had of reading the
"Life" of our holy mother.

Our holy mother also said: "That a subtile deceit might be concealed
under these 'imaginary visions,' unless they were accompanied with the
'intellectual likewise' because that which is beheld with the interior
eyes has much greater power than that which is seen with the eyes of the
body, and though our Lord sometimes favours a soul with this kind of
vision, for her greater good, yet it is very dangerous, on account of
the cruel war which the devil wages against spiritual people who walk
along this supernatural way, especially if they should be attached to
any earthly thing. In that case we cannot be secure, unless we submit to
our director, and yield to his judgment." She also said: "That the soul
which is most separated from everything sensual is the most perfect."

ADVICE VII.

This advice was intended for the Father-Provincial.

A few days before the feast of St Andrew, while I was at prayer
recommending the affairs of our Order to God, our holy mother Teresa de
Jesus, appeared to me, and said "Tell the Father Provincial he must
command the Religious in his convents not to procure any favours,
spiritual or temporal, by those means which seculars employ, for, if
they do, they will obtain neither the one nor the other; but they must
trust only in God, and live in recollection. Sometimes they think they
do good to seculars, and to our Order, by frequently conversing with
them: but let them beware, for they rather lose their esteem, and their
own soul receives much harm. By thinking to make seculars spiritual,
they themselves become secular, and imitate their way of living, from
which the devil knows well how to gain advantage over them; for he sees
that temporal solicitude brings disorder and trouble into the Order, and
cools the spirit of recollection.

"Let them be very careful (she said) to remember these things, both for
their own good and that of others also. Before they resolve upon
anything, let them first recollect themselves by prayer, and then He
will give them so much of His spirit and intelligence as to make them
capable of performing what He may have taught and commanded them. Let
them be careful, too, to keep this spirit within themselves, and also to
teach it to others."

ADVICE VIII.

This was also intended for the Father-Provincial.

Our holy mother bid me also tell your Reverence: "That the priors must
not be re-elected; and this for many important reasons. The first is,
because the advancement of every one in particular is more important
than the assistance which a superior (who is re-elected) could give to
the others. The good of the community is also greater when the Religious
obey those who have been superiors: this cannot be practised without
good example. Moreover, new priors will accustom themselves little by
little to their duties; and though they may not have such great
experience as those who have been priors, they should gain profit from
their advice: but those who have been priors should not give their
advice, nor interfere with the government of others, without being
asked." I was also told: "It was very important that those who have been
superiors should become true subjects, and should show themselves as
such for an example to others, and that they may have no reason to think
they cannot live without having the power of commanding and governing.
They should show themselves subjects in such a way as if they had never
been superiors, and also as if they had no hopes of ever returning to
their office: they should, then, study only their own profit; and by
this means they will make themselves very useful to others, when they
themselves shall become superiors again."

ADVICE IX.

For the Father-Provincial.

This being the Feast of the three Kings,[194]
our holy mother commanded me to tell the Father-Provincial, "That among
the complaints made by the Religious, one is, he does not practise any
austerities, and that he wears linen. It is with reason they complain
thus, because many of his subjects, not being desirous of his good
living, take no notice of the labours and trials he endures in his
journeys: but if they should see him some day eat meat, or take a little
refreshment in his illness, then they are tempted to become superiors
themselves.

"Let the superior, therefore, be very fond of doing penance, and correct
the least excess in himself with regard to his food; because
mortifications, when they do not injure our health, strengthen the
spirit exceedingly.

"Let him banish with rigour (if it cannot be done with meekness)
whatever tends to relaxation, either in the rules or constitutions; for
in this matter the beginnings are generally small, but the end is
dreadful."

ADVICE X.

For her Daughters, the Discalced Carmelites.

To-day being the Feast of the Kings, as I was asking our holy mother,
who appeared to me, what books we should read, she took the "Catechism
of Christian Doctrine," and said: "Behold, this is the book which I
desire my Religious should read day and night, for in it is contained
the law of God." And then she began to read about the "last judgment" in
a tone that made me tremble, and that frightened me exceedingly; and
for many days after her voice sounded in my ears. I discovered in this
book a treasure of most sublime doctrine, and the perfection at which a
soul arrives who takes it for her guide. Hence, I cannot help teaching
sublime things to those souls who are under my charge: indeed, I have a
great desire to teach them all that is contained in this catechism, and
of making them learn it. As for myself, I am always anxious to read
whatever appears to me fit to be learnt. The catechism contains quite a
treasure for me. I endeavour to make my daughter love humility,
mortification, and hard labour. As for the rest, our Lord will give it
to them when He sees good.

MAXIMS.

Which the Saint delivered to one of her Daughters after her death.

MAXIM 1. "Love the more, and walk the more uprightly, as the way is strait and narrow (that leads to life)."

2. "Those in heaven and those on earth ought to be one and the same in
purity and love; those in heaven, by enjoying; those on earth, by
suffering. We, who are above, adore the Divine Essence; you who are yet
on earth should adore the Most Blessed Sacrament. Make these words known
to my daughters."

3. "The devil is so proud, that he tries to enter at the same door as
God does,â€“viz., by confession, communion and prayer. But he strives to
poison these fountains of health."

4. "We ought not to resolve to do anything of consequence, without having first recommended the matter to God by prayer."

5. "Let superiors be careful to bring up souls in a total disengagement
from all earthly things, both interiorly and exteriorly; for they are
intended to be the spouses of a king who is so jealous that He wishes us
to forget even ourselves for love of Him."

6. "Let all Religious be great lovers of poverty, and let them rejoice
in it, for while they continue such, the spirit by which they are led
will remain with them."

The Letters of St. Teresa

APPENDIX II.

Carta VI. vol. i. English Translation, No. XVI.

Al muy Ilustre SeÃ±or Don Sancho d'Avila, Obispo de Jaen.

JESUS. La gracia del Espiritu Santo sea siempre con V. M.

He alabado Ã¡ nuestro SeÃ±or, y tengo por gran merced suya, lo que V. M.
tiene por faltaâ€“dexando algunos estremos de los que V. M. hacia por la
muerte de mi SeÃ±ora la Marquesa su madre, en que tanto todos hemos
perdido.

Muy bien ha hecho V. M. en escribir su vida, que fue muy santa; y soy yo
testigo desta verdad. Beso Ã¡ V. M. las manos, por la que me hace en
querer enviarmela, que tendrÃ© yo mucho que considerar, y alabar Ã¡ Dios
en ella. Esa gran determinacion, que V. M. no siente en si de no ofender
Ã¡ Dios, como quando se ofrezca ocasion de servirle, y apartarse de no
enojarle, no le ofenda, es senal verdadera, se que lo es el deseo de no
ofender Ã¡ su Magestad. Y el llegarse V. M. al santisimo Sacramento cada
dia y pesarle quando no lo hace, lo es de mas estrecha amistad.

Siempre vaya V. M. entendiendo las mercedes que recibe de su mano, para
que vaya creciendo lo que le ama, y dexese de andar mirando en
delgadezas de su miseria, que Ã¡ bulto se nos representan Ã¡ todos hartas,
en especial Ã¡ mi.

Y en eso de divertirse en el rezar el oficio divino, en que tengo yo
mucha culpa, y quiero pensar es flaqueza de cabeza: ansi lo piense V. M.
fues bien sabe el SeÃ±or, que ya que rezamos, querriamos fuese muy bien.
Yo ando mejor: y para el aÃ±o que tiene el pesado, puedo decir que estoy
buena, aunque pocos ratos sin padecer: y como veo que ya que se vive,
es lo mejor bien lo llevo.

Al SeÃ±or MarquÃ©s y Ã¡ mi SeÃ±ora la Marquesa, hermano de V. M. beso las
manos de sus SeÃ±orias, y que aunque he andado lÃ©jos, no me olvido en mis
pobres oraciones de suplicar Ã¡ nuestro SeÃ±or por sus SeÃ±orias: y por V.
M. no hago mucho, pues es mi SeÃ±or, y Padre de Confesion. Suplico Ã¡ V.
M. que al SeÃ±or D. Fadrique, y Ã¡ mi SeÃ±ora DoÃ±a Maria mande V. M. dar un
recado de mi parte, que no tengo cabeza para escribir Ã¡ sus SeÃ±orias; y
perdoneme V. M. por amor de Dios. Su Divina Magestad guarde Ã¡ V. M. y
dÃ© la santidad que yo le suplico. Amen.

Indigna sierva, de V. M. y su Hija,

TERESA DE JESUS.

De Avila, diez de Octubre, de mil quinientos y ochenta.

Carta VII. vol. i. English Translation, No. XVII.

All Mismo Ilustrisimo SeÃ±or Don Sancho d'Avila.

JESUS. La gracia del Espiritu Santo sea siempre con V. M.

Si supiera que estaba V M. en ese lugar, antes hubiera respondido Ã¡ la
carta de V. M. que lo deseaba mucho, para decir el gran consuelo que me
diÃ³. Paguelo la Divina Magestad Ã¡ V. M. con los bienes espirituales, que
yo siempre le suplico.

En la Fundacion de Burgos han sido tantos los trabajos, y poca la salud,
y muchos ocupaciones, que poco tiempo me quedaba para tomar este
contento. Gloria sea Ã¡ Dios, que ya queda acabado aquello, y bien. Mucho
quisiera ir par donde V. M. estÃ¡; que me diera gran contento tratar
algunas cosas en presencia, que se pueden mal por cartas. En pocas
quiere nuestro SeÃ±or que haga mi voluntad: cumplase la de su Divina
Magestad, que es lo que hace al caso. La vida de mi SeÃ±ora la Marquesa
deseo mucho vÃ©n. DebiÃ³ de recibir tarde la carta mi SeÃ±ora la Abadesa su
hermana, y por leerla su merced, creo no me la ha enviado. Con mucha
razon ha querido V. M. quede por memoria tan santa vida. Plegue Ã¡ Dios
la haga V. M. de lo mucho que hay en ella que decir, que temo ha de
quedar corto.

O SeÃ±or! y quÃ© es lo que padecÃ©, en que sus Padres de mi sobrina la
dexasen en Avila, hasta que yo volviese de Burgos! Como me vieron tan
porfiada, salÃ con ello. Guarde Dios Ã¡ V. M. que tanto cuida de hacerles
merced en todo, que yo espero que ha de ser V. M. su remedio. Guarde
Dios Ã¡ V. M. muchos aÃ±os, con la santidad que yo siempre le suplico.
Amen.

Indigna sierva, y Subdita de V. M.,

TERESA DE JESUS.

De Palencia, doce de Agosto, de mil quinientos y ochenta y dos.

Carta XVI. vol. i. English Translation, No. XIX.

Al Reverendo Padre Maestro Fray Domingo BaÃ±ez, de la orden de Santo Domingo.

JESUS. La gracia del Espiritu Santo sea con V. M. y con mi alma.

No hay que espantar de cosa que se haga por amor de Dios, pues puede
tanto el de Fray Domingo, que lo que le parece bien, me parece, y lo que
quiere, quiero: y no sÃ© en quÃ© ha de parar este encantamiento.

La su Parda nos ha contentado. Ella estÃ¡ tan fuera de sÃ de contento
despues que entrÃ³, que nos hace alabar Ã¡ Dios. Creo no he de tener
corazon para que sea Frayla, viendo lo que V. M. ha puesto en su
remedio: y ansi estoy determinada Ã¡ que la muestren Ã¡ leer, y conforme Ã¡
como le fuere, haremos.

Bien ha entendido mi espiritu el suyo, aunque no la he hablado; y Monja
ha habido, que no se puede valer desde que entrÃ³, de la mucha oracion
que le ha causado. Crea, Padre mio, que es un delicte para mi cada vez
que tomo alguna, que no trae nada sino que se tomo solo por Dios: y vÃ©r
que no tienen con quÃ©, y lo habian de dexar por no poder mas: veo que me
hace Dios particular merced, en que sea yo medio para su remedio. Si
pudiese fuesen todas ansi, me seria gran alegria: mas ninguna me acuerdo
contentarme, que la haya dexado por no tener.

Hame sido particular contento, vÃ©r cÃ³mo le hace Dios Ã¡ V. M. tan grandes
mercedes, que le emplee en semejantes obras, y vÃ©r venir Ã¡ estÃ¡. Hecho
estÃ¡ Padre, de los que poco pueden; y la caridad que el SeÃ±or le dÃ¡ para
esto, me tiene tan alegre, que qualquier cosa havÃ© por azudarle en
semijantes obras, si puedo. Pues el llanto de la que traÃa consigo, que
ne pensÃ© que acabÃ¡ra. No sÃ© para quÃ© me la enviÃ³ acÃ¡?

Ya el Padre Visitador ha dado licencia, y es principio para dar mas con
el favor de Dios: y quizÃ¡ podrÃ© tomar ese lloraduelos sÃ Ã¡ V. M. le
contenta, que para Segovia demasiado tengo.

Bien Padre ha tenido la Parda en V. M. Dice que aun no cree, que estÃ¡
acÃ¡. Es para alabar Ã¡ Dios su contento y le he alabado de vÃ©r acÃ¡ su
sobrinito de V. M. que venia con DoÃ±a Beatriz; y me holguÃ© hasta de
verle. Porque no me lo dixo?

Tambien me hace al caso haber estado esta Hermana con aquella mi amiga
Santa. Su Hermana me escribe, y envia Ã¡ ofrecer mucho. Yo le digo, que
me enternecido. Harto mas me parece la quiedo, que quando era viva. Ya
sabrÃ¡, que tuvo un voto para Prior en San Estevan: todos los demÃ¡s el
Prior; que me ha hecho devocion verlos tan conformes.

Ayer estuve con un Padre de su orden, que llaman Fray Melchor Cano. Yo
le dixe, que Ã¡ haber muchos espiritus como el soyo en la orden, que
pueden hacer los monasterios de contemplativos.

A Avila he escrito, para que los que le quieran hacer no se entibien, si
acÃ¡ no hay recando, que deseo mucho se comience. PorquÃ© no me dice lo
que ha hecho? Dios le haga tan santo como desco. Gana tengo de hablarle
algun dia en esos miedos que trae, que no hace sino perder tiempo; y de
poco humilde, no me quiere creer. Mejor lo hace el Padre Fray Melchor
que digo, que de una vez que le hablÃ© en Avila, dice le hizo provecho; y
que no le parece hay hora, que no me trae delante. O quÃ© espiritu, y
quÃ© alma tiene Dios alli! En gran manera me he consolado. No parece que
tengo mas que hacer, que contarle espiritus agenos. Quede con Dios, y
pidale que me le dÃ© Ã¡ mi, para no salir en cosa de su voluntad. Es
Domingo en la noche.

De V. M. Hija y Sierva,

TERESA DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

APPENDIX III.

Lettres InÃ©dites. Lettre PremiÃ¨re.[195]

La grÃ¢ce du Saint-Esprit soit avec votre RÃ©vÃ©rence.

Mon PÃ¨re,â€“Je ne m'Ã©tonne pas que vous soyez malade, mais je suis
surprise que vous soyez en vie d'apres ce que vous devez avoir essuyÃ©
intÃ©rieurement et extÃ©rieurement. On m'a fait beaucoup de peine
lorsqu'on m'a dit que vous gardiez le lit, parceque je connais votre
RÃ©vÃ©rence; mais comme le mal n'est pas dangereux, je me suis Ã¡ moitiÃ©
rassurÃ©e, et j'ai pense que ce pouvait Ãªtre un rhume de la nature de
ceux qui rÃ¨gnent dans ce moment. Je supplie votre RÃ©vÃ©rence d'une
maniÃ¨re toute particuliÃ¨re de ne faire dire comment elle se trouve;
qu'elle n'y manque pas pour l'amour de Dieu, quand mÃªme ce ne serait que
par une lettre de la main du P. Miseria, je m'en contenterai.

Dites-moi aussi si vous avez besoin de quelque chose. Au reste, ne vous
inquiÃ©tez de rien, et persuadez-vous bien que quand il semble que les
choses sont mieux, c'est alors que je suis ordinairement plus mÃ©contente
que je n'ai lieu de l'Ãªtre dans ce moment. Vous savez que le Seigneur
veut toujours que nous voyions que c'est la MajestÃ© divine qui fait ce
qui nous convient; et afin que cela soit mieux compris et que nous nous
apercevions que alors que tout succÃ¨de mieux. On ne me dit rien de mon
P. Padilla, ce qui me fait la plus grande peine, il ne m'Ã©crit pas non
plus; je voudrais qu'il jouÃt d'une santÃ© parfaite, pour qu'il pÃ»t vous
soigner, puisque le P. Balthasar doit vous quitter. Je prie instamment
notre Seigneur de daigner vous remettre promptement en santÃ©. J'Ã©cris Ã
ces PÃ¨res-lÃ  pour leur faire part de ce que j'ai fait, et il me semble
que le messager n'a pas d'autre mission que cela. Sachez, mon PÃ¨re, que
j'ai pensÃ© que nous aurions bien besoin du bon nonce, car enfin c'est un
surviteur de Dieu; son dÃ©part, s'il a lieu, me fera la plus grande
peine. Je suis persuadÃ©e qu'il ne s'abstient d'agir que parce qu'on l'a
dÃ¨goÃ»tÃ© de ce que nous comptons faire: mais ce qui fait le sujet de ces
craintes, on le nÃ©gotie actuellement Ã  Rome oÃ¹ nous avons quelqu'un qui
s'en acquitte avec talent et sagesse, et qui lui donnera de
l'occupation. Je me rappelle que le bon Nicolaso disait Ã  son passage
par cette ville, que les Carmes DÃ©chaussÃ©s devaient avoir un Cardinal
pour protecteur. Un de ces derniers jours j'ai parlÃ© Ã  un de mes parents
d'un rang Ã©levÃ©, qui m'a dit qu'il y avait Ã  Rome un curial qui Ã  fait
prÃ©venir qu'il ferait tout ce que nous voudrions, pourvu qu'on le payÃ¢t.
Je lui avais dÃ©jÃ  dit combien je serais bien aise d'avoir Ã  Rome
quelqu'un qui pÃ»t traiter certaines affaires avec le PÃ¨re GÃ©nÃ©ral. Voyez
s'il est convenable que l'ambassadeur demande quelque chose pour les
Carmes DÃ©chaussÃ©s.

Je vous apprends que le P. Fray Pedro Fernandez a Ã©tÃ© ici, et qu'il m'a
assurÃ© que si le Tostado n'Ã©tait point porteur d'un titre en rÃ¨gle qui
lui donnÃ¢t pouvoir sur les visiteurs, celui des auteurs prevaudrait:
mais que s'il avait ce pouvoir, il fallait se taire, obÃ©ir et changer de
batterie, parce qu'il lui semblait que si les commissaires n'ont
d'autre autoritÃ© que celle qu'ils avaient, ils ne pouvaient pas
constituer une province et des dÃ©finiteurs. Il faut donc que nous
prenions d'autres mesures: adressons-nous Ã  Dieu, qui est celui qui doit
tout faire; qu'il daigne dans sa misÃ©ricorde vous rendre promptement Ã
la santÃ©, ainsi que nous l'en supplions tous. Le messager porteur de la
prÃ©sente n'est expÃ©diÃ© que dans la vue de voir ce que vous dÃ©sirez qu'on
passe, et d'avoir des nouvelles de votre RÃ©vÃ©rence. Je vous prie
d'avoir la bontÃ© de dire au P. Jean Diaz comment il doit s'y prendre
pour remettre quelques lettres au P. Soler. Il est trÃ¨s-important pour
moi que votre RÃ©vÃ©rence l'envoie chercher, et qu'elle les lui remettre
avec le plus grand secret, si elle ne peut pas faire autrement.

Indigne Servante de votre RÃ©vÃ©rence,

THERESE DE JESUS.

Ce 16 Fevrier.

LETTRE II.

Au Docteur Fray Mariano de Saint-BenoÃ®t Ã  Madrid.

JÃ©sus soit avec votre RÃ©vÃ©rence, mon PÃ¨re et qu'il vous accorde la
recompense que vous mÃ©ritez pour les bonnes nouvelles que vous m'avez
Ã©crites, et qui, Ã  ce qu'il paraÃ®t, nous sont extrÃªmement favorables par
plusieurs raisons. Le jeune homme ne tarda pas Ã  partir, que Dieu
conduise ses pas pour sa plus grande gloire, la seule chose Ã  laquelle
nous devons tous aspirer. Je me rÃ©jouirais que votre RÃ©vÃ©rence se trouve
si bien avec ces pÃ¨res-lÃ , qui au moins ne cherchent pas Ã  mettre des
entraves. On m'assure que le PÃ¨re Fray Anselmo a Ã©crit Ã  l'EvÃªque de
Salamangue pour l'engager Ã  n'accorder aucune autorisation pour fonder
aucun convent, ce que lui a suscitÃ© un procÃ¨s semblable Ã  celui d'ici,
ni plus ni moins. Oh! mon pÃ¨re, qu'on sait mal conduire ces affaires!
Celle en question serait maintenant terminÃ©e, si l'on avait su s'y
prendre, tandis qu'elle n'a servi, qu'Ã  dÃ©verser l'infamie sur les
Carmes DÃ©chaussÃ©s. Croyez que ce n'est qu'avec le temps que les affaires
peuvent avoir du succÃ¨s? Au demeurant, moi je pense que c'est par la
volontÃ© de Dieu que les choses vont ainsi, et que cela renferme un grand
mystÃ¨re. Nous verrons; et si l'on fait ce que vous dites, ce sera un
bonheur. Que Dieu vous tienne compte de la bonne opinion que vous avez
de ma maniÃ¨re de voir: Dieu veuille qu'elle soit durable; mais il me
semble que celui qui en a une aussi bonne ne doit pas faire grand cas de
la mienne. Je suis on ne peut pas plus contente de ce que les affaires
soient conduites par des moines aussi habiles: que celui qui le permet
ainsi, soit louÃ©. Amen! Comme vous ne me dites jamais rien du PÃ¨re Fray
Balthasar, et que j'ignore oÃ¹ il est, je vous prie de lui dire bien des
choses de ma part, ainsi qu'Ã  mon PÃ¨re Padilla et au PÃ¨re Juan Diaz. La
Prieure d'ici et celle de Malagombrianda se rappellent au souvenir de
votre RÃ©vÃ©rence. La premiÃ¨re se trouvait beaucoup mieux: mais depuis
qu'elle est arrivÃ©e ce soir, elle est devenue plus malade. Nous espÃ©rons
la conserver; que Dieu veuille lui prolonger la vie comme vous voyez
que nous en avons besoin, et avoir votre RÃ©vÃ©rence en sa sainte garde.
Faites attention, mon pÃ¨re, et songez bien toujours que ces amitiÃ©s
pourraient devenir trop violentes pour ne point se tenir sur ces gardes
en tout point; le vÃ©ritable ami, l'ami, dont volontÃ© il n'y a rien Ã
craindre. Je dÃ©sirerais bien connaÃ®tre le rÃ©ponse en question; je
voudrais aussi que votre RÃ©vÃ©rence et le PÃ¨re MaÃ®tre pussent rester lÃ
oÃ¹ ils croiraient Ãªtre bien accueillis, il est certain que, quoi qu'on
fasse, il ne peut pas manquer des croix dans cette vie pour celui qui
est du parti du CrucifiÃ©.

Quant Ã  Antonio Manuel, il se trompe: DoÃ±a Catherina d'Otalora n'est pas
religieuse chez nous, et elle ne l'a jamais Ã©tÃ©. Cette dame devint
veuve, aida Ã  la fondation de couvent en question, oÃ¹ je ne crois pas
qu'elle soit maintenant. Outre que je ne la connais pas, il ne
m'appartient pas de m'occuper d'elle: ma profession d'ailleurs me le
dÃ©fend. Je prie votre RÃ©vÃ©rence de le lui dire; on m'a mÃªme fait naÃ®tre
un scrupule sur ce que j'ai demandÃ© Ã  votre RÃ©vÃ©rence dans ce cas; mais
on verra combien je connais peu ce Monsieur-lÃ , qui quoique haut placÃ©,
et mon parent, je ne l'ai vu qu'une seule fois, et j'ignore ce dont son
Ã¢me peut s'accommoder; ceci soit dit entre nous. Je supplie donc votre
RÃ©vÃ©rence de ne rien faire dans cette circonstance que ce qu'elle croira
convenable aprÃ¨s avoir observÃ© sa porsonne. Ne lui dites rien de cela,
pour ne point le chagriner et lui faire de la peine; mais dites-lui bien
des choses de ma part, et que je ne lui Ã©cris pas, parce que j'ai mal Ã
la tÃªte, laquelle continue toujours d'Ãªtre assez mauvaise. Dites-lui
aussi que j'ai Ã©crit aujourd'hui Ã  madame sa femme. DoÃ±a Beatriz, et
surtout ne manquez pas de lui faire savoir que la dame dont il parle
n'est pas religieuse.

Je prie Dieu qu'il ait votre RÃ©vÃ©rence en sa sainte garde, comme nous en avons tous besoin. Amen.

THERESE DE JESUS.

Ce 15 Mai.

LETTRE III.

A la RÃ©vÃ©rende MÃ¨re, Prieure de Saint-Jean de Salamanque.

Le Sainte-Esprit soit avec votre RÃ©vÃ©rence.

Je suis bien fÃ¢chÃ©e des craintes qu'ont montrÃ©es pour votre maison
celles qui vous temoignent leur intention de s'en aller, et que vous ne
desireriez pas moins conserver aujourd'hui, attendu que celle qui
causait le mÃ©contement n'y est plus, Il faut qu'elles fassent le bien,
la seule chose pour laquelle elles sont venues, pour que cette maison ne
dÃ©choie pas de la bonne rÃ©putation et de la bonne idÃ©e que doivent
avoir d'elle celles qui la quittent. J'espÃ¨re qu'on le fera ainsi, parce
qu'il y restera de bonnes religieuses avec elles. Je pense que vous
Ãªtes toujours indisposÃ©e; encore si Dieu nous fait la grÃ¢ce que vous ne
soyez pas alitÃ©e, ce sera un moindre mal. Soignez-vous pour l'amour de
Dieu, et que la MajestÃ© divine daigne m'accorder de vous voir bientÃ´t,
de voir que Dieu veut que vous souffriez de toutes les maniÃ¨res; qu'il
soit pour tout louÃ©, et qu'il daigne vous rÃ©compenser des aumones que
vous m'avez faites, avec lesquelles j'ai Ã©tÃ© ces jours derniers assez
mauvaise pour m'oublier, comme Ã©galement avec le voile, parce que celui
que je portais en forme de guimpe, je l'avais fait pour le mettre
par-dessus.

Au reste, il faut convenir que les voiles que votre RÃ©vÃ©rence me donne
sont fort jolis; mais faites-moi la grÃ¢ce, je vous en supplie, de me
rien envoyer qu'autant que je vous le demanderai: je prÃ©fÃ¨re que vous en
profitiez et que cela serve Ã  vos plaisirs. Dans cette fondation tout
prospÃ¨re si bien, que je ne sais pas ce que nous allons devenir. Priez
notre Seigneur de nous donner de bonnes maisons. Nous ne voulons plus
l'ermitage: des maisons et des personnes disposÃ©es Ã  nous en procurer ne
nous manquent pas. L'Ã©vÃªque ne cesse pas de nous rendre service; priez
Dieu pour lui, je vous en supplie, ainsi que pour tous nos bienfaiteurs.

Je prie votre RÃ©vÃ©rence d'ecrire une petite lettre au P. Fray Domingo,
si je ne puis le faire moi-mÃªme, pour lui donner des nouvelles de cette
fondation. Je tÃ¢cherai cependant de lui Ã©crire un mot; mais si je ne le
fais pas, faites-lui bien des compliments de ma part. Il m'a charmee par
la manÃ¨re accomplie avec laquelle il a approvisionnÃ© les soeurs: tout
le monde s'en ferait pas autant: j'en suis bien contente, surtout par
rapport Ã  Isabella-de-Jesus, Ã  qui nous devons tout: il paraÃ®t qu'elle
est aussi trÃ¨s-contente. Et puisqu'elle et toutes les autres me disent
tout ce qu'elles ont Ã  me dire, et que j'ai d'autres lettres Ã  Ã©crire,
je n'ajouterai rien autre chose Ã  ma prÃ©sente, si ce n'est que je
supplie notre Seigneur Jesus Christ de vous avoir en sa sainte et digne
garde, et de vous accorder toute saintetÃ©. Amen.

Les Missels sont trÃ¨s-beaux: vous m'en marquez le prix, mais je ne sais
pas quand nous pourrons vous les payer. L' P. Mondiago remettra les
lettres ci-jointes Ã  mes PÃ¨res Dominicains; je prie votre RÃ©vÃ©rence de
les lui recommander.

THERESE DE JESUS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

APPENDIX IV.

Carta del Illustrisimo SeÃ±or D. Juan de Palafox y
Mendoza, Obispo de Osma, al Reverendisimo Padre Fray Diego de la
Visitacion, General de los Carmelitas Descalzos.

Reverendisimo Padre,â€“Con gran consuelo mio he leido las Epistolas de
Santa Teresa, que V. P. Rma. quiere dar Ã¡ la estampa, para pÃºblica
utilidad de la Iglesia, porque en cada una de ellas se descubre el
admirable espiritu de esta virgen prudentisima, Ã¡ la qual comunicÃ³ el
SeÃ±or tantas luces para que con ellas despues ilustrase, y mejorase Ã¡
las almas. Y aunque todos sus escritos estÃ¡n llenos de doctrina del
cielo; pero como advierten bien los instruidos en la humana erudicion,
no puede negarse que en las cartas familiares se derrama mas el alma, y
la condicion del autor, y se dibuxa con mayor propriedad, y mas vivos
colores su interior y exterior, que no en las dilatados discursos, y
tratados. Y como quiera que aquello serÃ¡ mejor, y mayor de Santa Teresa,
en que se descubra Ã¡ si misma mas, por eso estas cartas en las quales
tanto manifiesta su zelo ardiente, su discrecion admirable, su
prudencia, y caridad maravillosa, han de ser recibidas de todos con
mayor gozo, y ho menor fruto, y aprovechiamento.

Verdaderamente cosa alguna de quantas dixo, de quanta hizo, de quantas
escribiÃ³ esta Santa, habian de estar ignoradas de los fieles: y asi
siento mucho el vÃ©r algunas firmas de su nombre, compuestas con las
letras de sus escritos; porque faltan aquellas letras Ã¡ sus cartas, y
aquellas cartas, y luces Ã¡ la Iglesia universal: y mas la hemos menester
leida enseÃ±ando, que venerada firmando.

Pues que otra cosa son las Epistolas familiares de los Santos, sino unas
disimuladas instrucciones, ofrecidas con suavidad Ã¡ los fieles? Y una
eloquente y persuasiva doctrina que informa Ã¡ la humana, y christiana
comunicacion entre nosotros mismos? La qual no solo dÃ¡ luz con su
discurso, sin calor, y eficÃ¡cia para seguir Ã© imitar lo que primero
enseÃ±aron los Santos con su exemplo, y virtudes al obrar.

Y asi me parece, que la Santa en sus tratados del Camino de la
Perfeccion, de las Moradas, en la Explicacion del "Pater Noster," en sus
Documentos, y Avisos (que todos son celestiales) nos ha enseÃ±ado de la
maniera que hemos de vivir en Ã³rden Ã¡ Dios; y dirigir nuestros pasos por
la vida espiritual. Pero como hemos de vivir en esta exterior unos con
otros (de la qual depende tanta parte, y no sÃ© si la mayor de la
interior), nos lo enseÃ±a en estas Epistolas, porque con lo que dice en
ellas, nos alumbra de lo que debemos aprender; y con lo que estaba
obrando al escribirlas, de lo que debemos obrar.

QuÃ© zelo no descubre en ellas del bien de las almas? QuÃ© prudencia y
sabidurÃa en lo mistico, moral, y politico? QuÃ© eficÃ¡cia al persuadir?
QuÃ© claridad al explicarse? QuÃ© gracia, y fuerza secreta al cautivar con
la pluma Ã¡ los que enseÃ±a con la erudicion?

Muchos santos ha habido en la Iglesia, que como sus Maestros universales
la han enseÃ±ado; muchos, que con sapientisimo tratados la han
alumbrado; muchos, que con eficacÃsimos escritos la han defendido: pero
que en ellos, y con ellos hayan tan dulcemente persuadido, arrebatado, y
cautivado, ni con mayor suavidad, y actividad vencido las almas, y
convencido, so sÃ© hallarÃ¡n facilmente.

Inuemerables virtudes, propriedades, y gracias pueden ponderarse en la
Santa: no digo en sus heroicas acciones, costumbres, y perfecciones
(porque esas aprobadas, y canonizadas por la Iglesia, mas piden la
imitacion, que la alabanza), sino en sus suavisimos escritos; pero yo lo
que admiro mas en ellos, es la gracia, dulzura, y consuelo con que nos
vÃ¡ llevando Ã¡ lo mejor; que es tal, qui primero nos hallamos cautivos,
que vencidos, y aprisionados, que presos.

El camino de la vida interior es aspero, y desapacibleâ€“"Arcta est via,
quÃ¦ ducit ad vitam:" porque se vence la naturaleza Ã¡ si misma, y todos
son pasos de dolor para la parte inferior, quantos le ofrece al alma el
espiritu; y asi hacer dulce, y entretenido este camino, alegre, y
gustoso al caminante, no solamente le facilita el viage, sino que le
hace mas meritorias las penas con reducirlas Ã¡ gozos.

Al que alegremente dÃ¡, ama el EspÃritu Santoâ€“"Hilarem enim datorem
diligit Deus." Esto es, ama mas que Ã¡ otros, al que sirve mas
alegremente que otros. Esta alegria, gusto, y suavidad comunica
admirablemente la Santa en sus obras adulzando por una parte, y haciendo
por otra mas meritorias las penas. A todos socorre con sus escritos, y
les dexa contentos con su dolce modo de enseÃ±ar, y persuadir. A Dios,
con la mayor caridad del justo; y al justo con la mayor alegria, y
mÃ©rito de servir Ã¡ Dios. Porque tal gracia en lo natural, y tal fuerza
en lo sobrenatural, como este admirable espÃritu tiene en su pluma, y
como allana y facilita las dificultades del camino de la virtud, no es
bastantemente ponderable.

...... Ninguno lee los escritos de la Santa, que no busque luego Ã¡ Dios;
y ninguno busca por sus escritos Ã¡ Dios que no quede devoto, y
enamorado de la Santa. Y esto no solo credo yo que es gracia particular
del estilo, y fuerza maravillosa del espÃritu, que secretamente lo
anima, sino providencia de Dios. Porque ama tanto Ã¡ la Santa, que Ã¡ los
que hace perfectos con la imitacion de sus virtudes, Ã© ilustra con la
luz de sus tratados espirituales, quiere asegurar con la fuerza poderosa
de su intercesion.

No he visto hombre devoto de Santa Teresa, que no sea espiritual. No he
visto hombre espiritual, qui se lee sus obras, no sea devotisimo de
Santa Teresa...... La utilidad de los escritos de Santa Teresa, no basta
Ã¡ ponderarlos la pluma. Diganlo las almas Ã¡ quien sacaron de los lazos
de la vanidad del mundo. Diganlo los que por la luz comunicativa que
traen consigo, como con vivas centellas, leyendolas, se han abrasado sus
devotos corazones. Diganlo tanto nÃºmero de hijos, y de hijas, y
siervous de Dios, que Ã¡ ellos les deben primero su conversion, y despues
su vocacion...... Y si los demÃ¡s escritos de Santa Teresa, para llevar Ã¡
Dios almas, han sido tan eficÃ¡ces: yo estoy pensando que lo han de ser
mucho mas estas Epistolas. Porque la misma Santa dexÃ³ escrito en su Vida
el provecho interior, que sentia un sacerdote en si mismo al leer
aquello que le escribia. Y que solo con pasar por ello los ojos, le
templaba, y ahuyentaba muy graves tribulaciones. Y asi, V. P. Rma. nos
consuele con darlas luego Ã¡ la estampa, porque han de ser para la
Iglesia universal de todos los fieles de grandÃsimo provecho.

A instancia de los Padres deste santo convento de V. P. Rma., y
particularmente del Padre Prior Fray Antonio de Sant-Angelo, mi
confesor, he escrito sobre cada carta algunas notas, que creo serÃ¡n mas
apropÃ³sito para entretener los noviciados de los conventos de V. P. Rma.
con una no inÃºtil recreacion, que no para que se impriman.

Las ocupaciones desta peligrosa dignidad son tales, que apenas me han
dexado libres treinta dias, y no del todo; antes muy llenos de embarazos
inescusables al Pastoral ministerio, para darlos Ã¡ tan gustoso trabajo;
y asi servirÃ¡ la congoja, y la brevedad del tiempo de disculpa Ã¡ sus
descuidos.

Guarde Dios Ã¡ V. P. Rma.

De V. P. Rmo. Servidor,

JUAN, Obispo de Osma.

Osma, Febrero 15, 1656.

The Letters of St. Teresa

APPENDIX V.

The following translation of the Spanish verses, by Woodhead, may give the reader some imperfect idea of the meaning of the original. (See Letter No. XII.)

"O Beauty! that so far transcendest

The beauties of all features!

Thou woundest us, yet not offendest:

And without pain too, away takest

All love we have for creatures.

Strange love-knot, that together draws

Such distant things to meet

What then can a disunion cause?

When tied, thou rul'st o'er nature's laws,

And mak'st e'en sufferings sweet.

Things void of being thou hast joined

To endless being, and to bliss:

When all's bestowed, still more remains:

Where nought is to love, Thou art kind:

Thou makest great, what nothing is."

The French translation of the Spanish reads much better than the English, though it sadly wants the terseness of the original.

"Vous triomphez, Ã´ BeautÃ© sans seconde:

Pour vous j'Ã©prouve un tourment enchanteur:

Et vos attraits me dÃ©tachent du monde,

Sans qu'il en coÃ»te un soupir Ã  mon coeur,

Qu'il est puissant ce noeud qui joint ensemble

Les deux sujets les moins faits pour s'unir!

Tant que ce noeud par vos soins les assemble,

Les plus grands maux se changent en plaisir.

Le rien s'unit Ã  l'Ãªtre par essence:

Et l'immortel me parÃ´it expirant:

L'indigne objet de votre complaisance

A peine existe, et vous le rendez grand."

FINIS.

The Letters of St. Teresa

Footnotes

A high Puseyite paper, in reviewing the "Life" of the Saint, actually asserted that there were many points of resemblance between St Teresa, John Wesley, and Joanna Southcote! This seems to be the opinion of Mr. Macaulay also. (See his Review on Ranke's "History of the Popes.")

This great prelate was enthusiastically devoted to Saint Teresa. Besides his "Annotations" on many of the Letters, he wrote an admirable critique on them, addressed to Padre Diego de la Visitacion. (See vol. i. Spanish ed. Madrid, 1793.)

"Giocondissima Ã© la lezione di esse. Vi si scorge l'anima generosa di Teresa, una mente fra tanti travagli, infermita, e affari, sempre limpida e vivace," &c. (Vita di Santa Teresa, tom. iv. p. 44.)

"Y aunque todos sus escritos estÃ n llenos de doctrina del cielo, pero como advierten bien los instruidos en la humana erudicion, no puene negarse que en las cartas familiares se derrama mas el alma, y la condicion del autor, y se dibuxa con mayor propiedad, que no en los dilatados discursos y tratados..........Por eso, estas cartas de Santa Teresa, en las quales, tanto manifesta su zelo ardiente, su discrecion admirable, su prudencia, y carided maravillosa, han de ser recibidas de todos con mayor gozo, y no menor fruto y aprovechamiento." (Carta al Reverendisimo Padre Diego de la Visitacion.)

This fact is proved by the Bollandists, in their last magnificent volume on St. Teresa; and also by the Reverend Father Bouix, in his admirable translation of the Saint's "Life" (Paris, 1852).

Her name in religion was ThÃ©rÃ¨se de Saint Joseph. She was superioress of the convent of St. Denis in Paris, and died in 1727.

Se "OEuvres trÃ¨s-complÃ¨tes de Sainte ThÃ©rÃ¨se," tom. ii. Paris, 1840.

See the Saint's "Life" (chap. xxiii. p. 192).

It would be well if the "Life" of this holy man, by Da Ponte, were translated into English.

I have not mentioned St. Peter of Alcantara, St. John of the Cross, and St. Francis Borgia, because more is known about them from Alban Butler; and no doubt Father Faber will publish their lives, for which we shall be grateful.

"Avisos de la Santa Madre Teresa de Jesus que ella diÃ³ en esta vida, por revelacion divina," is the Spanish title.

"Nous avons restituÃ© au nom de TÃ©rÃ¨se sa vÃ©ritable orthographe. La Sainte, ainsi que ses autographes le dÃ©montrent, n'a jamais mis d'h dans son nom: ses historiens l'ont Ã©crit comme elle: tous les auteurs Espagnols ont fait de mÃªme." (Avertissement du Traducteur)

At Valladolid.

One of the Saint's confessors.

The convent at Valladolid.

It seems that the Saint had a son of this lady under her protection.

Another of the Saint's confessors.

Don Teutonio de Braganza was Archbishop of Evora.

The Saint speaks in the highest terms of this holy religious, who belonged to the order of St. Dominic. He was of the greatest assistance to her in the foundation of St. Joseph's monastery. (See her "Life," chap. xxxviii. p. 364.)

Spanish, "Por mi Christo."

"Llamandome muger inquieta, y andariega," &c.

The Saint no doubt alludes to herself.

King Philip II. of Spain.

St. Teresa, in the book of her Foundations, highly extols this great prelate, both for his learning and piety. When she consulted him as her confessor, he was a canon of the cathedral of Toledo. (See "Foundation of the Monastery of Soria.")

The Saint explains this kind of visions in her "Interior Castle."

That is, her duties.

Charles IX., who died in 1574. After the death of this monarch Protestantism began to gain ground in France, and it is to this evil no doubt that the Saint alludes.

That is, the nuns.

"Tan canonizada," &c.

The bishop of Osma remarks, in his annotations on this letter, that before the edict of Philip II. it was the custom to put on the address of letters the titles and qualities of the persons to whom they were written. This the Saint could not endure, as the praises of the archbishop wounded her humility. "No me atormente con estos sobrescritos, por amor pe nuestro SeÃ±or."

See the history of this monastery in the Saint's "Life," chap. xxxiii, xxxv. &c.

This devout and charitable lady was of the greatest assistance to the Saint in the foundation of St. Joseph's monastery.

DoÃ±a Maria de Cepeda. She was married to Don Martin de Guzman.

An ancient Spanish coin.

Juana de Ahumada.

This was another sister of the Saint.

The Saint means the Jesuits, who in her time were often erroneously called Theatins.

The name of the Saint's mother was Beatrice Ahumada. She was her father's second wife.

This is the individual's name who brought the letter from the Saint's brother.

Our blessed Lord.

At Avila, where her brother was then residing.

These are printed with her other works, and have been translated into English.

To abstain from venial sins.

The Bishop of Osma mentions that this was an estate about a league from Avila.

These words we must suppose the brother addresses to the Saint.

This was the name of a very pious gentleman, who was given to prayer. The Saint used to call him the "holy cavalier"â€“el caballero santo.

A cousin of the Saint.

They are called in Spanish "villancicos." They come at the end of the letter.

To enable the reader to understand this part of the letter, it is necessary to mention, that one day the Saint heard a voice in the interior of her soul, saying "Buscate en mi"â€“Seek yourself in me. She mentioned these words to her brother Lorenzo, who was then at Avila. The bishop, Alvaro de Mendoza, heard of the secret, and ordered the words to be made the subject of a spiritual recreation, and each of the nuns was enjoined to write down what seemed to her to be the meaning. Four other persons also gave an explanation of them, viz., St. John of the Cross, the Ven. John of Avila, Francisco de Salcedo, and her own brother. (See Carta V. Spanish ed vol. i. p. 28.)

He said he used to take only three hours' sleep.

Toledo.

Not being a poet, I dare not venture to translate these verses into English. In Appendix No. V. I have given Woodhead's translation, such as it is.

The Saint bestows the highest commendations on this holy prelate, who was her confessor when she was residing in Toledo. See "Foundation of Soria."

The Saint seems to allude to the abuses which had crept into the Monastery of the Incarnation, at Avila.

Gaspar Daza was one of the Saint's chaplains. He was made canon of Avila, no doubt through St. Teresa's influence with the bishop.

Lorenzo do Capeda was the Saint's brother.

The Saint does not give us her own opinion on the meaning of the words, "Seek thyself in me." Bishop Palafox observes, that they are the same as if God should say in a spiritual sense, "Seek me, and you will find yourself in me; otherwise, if you seek yourself out of me, or without me, you will not easily find yourself."

This letter is interesting, as it was written only a few months before the Saint died.

Her name in religion was Beatrix de Jesu. Her parents were unwilling for her to take the habit. She became prioress of the Carmelites at Madrid, where bishop Palafox knew her intimately.

Palafox mentions, that the Saint alludes to some great good which the father general had received from God, through the intercession of the Saint, and of which she was aware. (See annotation on this letter.

Father Gracian.

Literally, "Bien ha entendido mi espiritu el suyo, aunque no la he hablado," &c.

"Lloraduelos,"â€“that is, the young woman who wept so much.

This is not the celebrated bishop of the Canary Isles: he was his cousin.

Lest it might be intercepted and opened.

The Saint speaks of herself in the third person.

St. Francis Borgia, who was the Duke of Gandia whom the Saint mentions.

See what the Saint says of this most holy man in her "Life" (chap. xxvii. p. 235).

At Avila, which was founded in the year 1562.

The bishop of Osma, in his annotations on this letter, speaks very highly of this great prelate. He died at Merida in 1576.

See this admirable letter in Appendix No. I., annexed to the translation of the "Interior Castle."

"The Way of Perfection."

"Que lo mas humilde y mortificado, seria lo mas espiritual."

That is, her "Life." With it the Saint sent a letter to Father IbaÃ±ez.

"Yo soyâ€“no hayas miedo."

Literally, "Porque no es imagineria."

"Que la mano de Dios estara mas abreviada para la orden de su Madre, que para las otras."

The Saint was mortified, because Father Gonzalo asked her advice.

That is, duties and employments.

That is, the fathers who opposed the reform.

This was eventually granted, as the history of the Order mentions.

"Descuidarian ya en que se han de deshacer."

This father was a Dominican, and confessor to King Philip II. He was a man of great genius and virtue.

That is, permission to elect a provincial.

"Aquel santico de Fray Juan." (See the life of this great friend of St. Teresa in Alban Butler, November 24th.)

Should she take the habit.

How she was the cause of their afflictions, I am unable to tell.

The Saint very frequently does not mention either the date of her letters, or the place from which she writes them. This letter seems to have been written from Avila.

One of the sisters of Father Gracian.

That is, those who were opposed to Father Gracian.

By the word "Joseph," the Saint means Mother Mary of St. Joseph; and by the words "Paul and Eliseus," she means Father Gracian. She uses this disguise, lest her letters might be intercepted.

"Llamo dexos, confirmados con obras," &c.

Literally, "Que el que se estÃ  quebrando la cabeza Ã  sus solas."

The name by which the Saint alludes to Father Gracian.

St. John of the Cross.

This letter also seems to have been written from Avila.

The prioress of Valladolid.

The Bishop of Osma, in his annotations on this letter, mentions several ladies of noble rank, who afterwards entered the Carmelite order.

Spanish, "su pueblo."

"Que en fin es de prestado."

Those who would not agree to, or approve the reform.

The Saint eventually went to Malagon, towards the end of the year 1579.

Father Salazar, vicar-general of the reform.

This money was borrowed, in order to pay the necessary expenses attendant on forming a distinct province for the Reformed Carmelites.

"DÃ¨nos buenos talentos."

Father Gracian.

Those who did not adopt the reform.

He was prior of the Carmelites at Avila, and was greatly opposed to the Saint's reform.

This person afterwards became archbishop of Evora.

These words must be spoken in irony.

Not in the Spanish.

He was a great favourite of Charles V., and secretary of state to King Philip II.

He was married to one of the Saint's sisters.

The Jesuits: "Los de la Compania," &c.

"Un casamiento con un Mayorazgo,", &c.

Literally, "Para fiarme mil, y dos mil ducados. "

It must be remembered that the Saint's brother was living in the West Indies, and hence she knew the miserable state of that country.

This lady was his wife. Her name in full was SeÃ±ora Juana de Fuentes y Guzman. She was very virtuous.

At Avila.

"Al torno"â€“at the turn, where provisions, &c. are received.

Francisco de Salcedo, the holy gentleman of Avila, of whom the Saint so often speaks.

Como un borracho en parte.

"Un toque ne amor."

These three lines are taken from the first stanza of verses which the Saint had sent to her brother in another letter. (See the "Interior Castle," Letter No. XII., and Appendix No. II.)

"Esos estremacimientos."

That is, she did not take sufficient repose.

In her "Life" the Saint says still more: "I have often found by experience, that there is nothing from which the devils fly more quickly than from holy water. Certainly, the power of holy water must be very great: for my part, my soul feels a particular comfort in taking it, and very generally a refreshment and interior delight which I cannot express." (Chapter xxxi. p. 275.)

The Saint seems to allude to her brother's explanation of the words, "Seek thyself in me," which were made a subject of discussion. The saint did not approve of that explanation. (See Letter XII.)

These words I have added.

The bishop of Osma says, "that she must have been a lover of compliments and ceremony: no wonder, then, she was tiresome to the Saint."

The silver real was 5d., and the other of mixed metal about 2 1/2d.

Valladolid.

His name was SeÃ±or Don Gaspar de Quiroga.

It appears that this pious gentleman, after the death of his wife, became a priest.

This was a very pious and charitable lady, a great friend of the Saint.

At Avila.

DoÃ±a Beatrix de Beaumonte was her name, according to Bishop Palafox. (See annotation on this letter.)

"Vispera del Rey David"â€“a feast in honour of King David.

"Que tenga algunos reveses," &c.

"Peude ser que tuviese mas ternuritas."

Her name probably was Maria Diaz, well known in Avila for her many virtues.

Not in the original.

He was brother to Sister Teresa de Jesus, and the son of SeÃ±or Don Lorenzo de Cepeda.

Domingo BaÃ±ez, whom the Saint often mentions in her "Life."

For Avila.

Bishop Palafox asks: "What, must a saint borrow money? Yes, for holy people often want it....... Money is a powerful master, and there is hardly anything great or holy to be done without it." &c

Not in the original

See the history of this convent in the Saint's "Foundation."

Her brother, Lorenzo de Cepeda, who had lately returned to the West Indies.

At Seville.

Her name was Mother Maria de San Joseph.

The bishop of Osma remarks, that in the Saint's time this title was given to very few people. The Saint was against her nephew taking any new title, because it only fed pride and vanity.

DoÃ±a Maria de Mendoza was the foundress of the convent at Valladolid.

Duchess of Osuna.

In the convent at Veas, where she first met Father Gracian.

"Que aunque duerme en la mar, quando crece la tormenta, hace parar los vientos."

The Saint alludes to the injustice committed by the Father-Provincial when he deposed the prioress of Seville, and put in her place a superioress of his own, and at the same time caused certain charges to be drawn up against Father Gracian and other Religious.

The prioress of Seville, who had been deposed.

After I had translated this letter, I could not help admiring the fervid eloquence and spirituality which it so remarkably displays.

"Que se firmÃ³, 'Del Muladar.'"

"Hartas veces permite el Senor una caida, para que el alma quede mas humilde," &c.

At Malagon.

He was a priest of Seville, who was of great assistance to the Saint in the foundation of the convent there.

Father Gracian.

She was her niece, being the daughter of her brother, SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Cepeda. She accompanied the Saint to Seville, and afterwards to Toledo.

The prioress seems to have thought she was not in the good graces of the Saint, on account of a certain coldness which the mother-prioress showed when St. Teresa lived with her at Seville.

They seem to have made some complaint to the Saint about the prioress.

Probably he came with the letters.

The Saint here uses a little pleasant raillery. The prioress seems not to have known the use of ciphers, and the Saint insinuates that perhaps she wished to hide her ignorance by writing the date in full.

At Toledo, where this letter seems to have been written.

Very little is known about this house. It does not seem as if the Religious there had adopted the reform introduced by the Saint.

A holy father of the Society of Jesus.

This holy man seems to have acted somewhat imprudently during the persecution.

This is another proof of the Saint's most profound humility.

"Como se ayuden, les ayudarÃ¡ Dios." These words have become proverbial.

"El agua de azar. "

According to Bishop Palafox, these Religious to whom the Saint alludes seem to have been the cause of the persecution.

Not in the original.

Valladolid.

In health.

Not in the original.

Father Nicolao.

This Letter was written in 1580, and the Saint died two years after, aged sixty-seven.

It seems as if the Saint had a revelation of his happiness.

The Saint alludes to the rumoured insurrection of the Moors.

The number amounted to eight.

Granada, which was taken from the Moors; or the Saint may mean, that this would be the first Foundation since the reform.

This sentence is obscure in the Spanish.

This was a holy Religious in the convent of Avila, whom the Saint had sent to the Foundation of Granada.

See Preface.

"Avisos de la Santa Madre Teresa de Jesus, que ella diÃ³ en esta vida."

Those four advices are printed in the beginning of the "Constitutions of the Discalced Fathers." (See the Annotations of the bishop of Osma).

"Que piadoso es el Senor, y harÃ¡ que poco Ã¡ poco las obras igualen con la intencion y desco."

The three wise menâ€“Feast of the Epiphany.

See "OEuvres trÃ¨s-complÃ¨tes de Sainte ThÃ©rÃ¨se," par l'AbbÃ© Migne, tome ii. p. 664.

Conceptions of the Love of God, Exclamations, Maxims and Poems

Table of Contents

Preface

I. Dedication

II. From The Address By His Holiness Pope Leo XIII.

III. Introduction.

Poems

I. Poem 1.: Self-Oblation.

II. Poem 2. : The Soul's Desire.

III. Poem 3. : The Soul's Desire. (Second Version)

IV. Poem 4.: The Soul's Exile.

V. Poem 5.: Self-Surrender.

VI. Poem 6.: Divine Beauty.

VII. Poem 7.: The Compact

VIII. Poem 8. : On The Transverberation Of The Saint's Heart.

IX. Poem 9.: Aspirations.

X. Poem 10. : Soul, Thou Must Seek Thyself In Me, And Seek For Me In Thee."

XI. Poem 11.: The Dying Saint To Her Crucifix.

XII. Poem 12.: Nuns Of Carmel.

XIII. Poem 13.: The Wise Virgin. Written For The Veiling Of Sister Isabel Of The Angels.

XIV. Poem 14. : The Refrain Of A Song For A Clothing.

XV. Poem 15.: The Holocaust.

XVI. Poem 16.: The Bride Of Christ.

XVII. Poem 17.: The Shepherd's Bridals.

XVIII. Poem 18.: The Cloister.

XIX. Poem 19.: The Standard Of The Holy Cross.

XX. Poem 20. : Greeting To The Cross.

XXI. Poem 21. : Processional For The Feast Of The Holy Cross.

XXII. Poem 22.: The Lamb Of God.

XXIII. Poem 23.: The Angels' Summons To The Shepherds.

XXIV. Poem 24. : The Shepherds At The Crib.

XXV. Poem 25. : Christmas Day.

XXVI. Poem 26. : The Shepherds' Carol For The Circumcision.

XXVII. Poem 27.: Shepherds' Carol For The Circumcision.

XXVIII. Poem 28.: The Shepherd And The Three Kings.

XXIX. Poem 29.: A Poem To St. Andrew.

XXX. Poem 30.: To Saint Catherine The Martyr.

XXXI. Poem 31.: Saint Hilarion.

XXXII. Poem 32. : Rhymed Maxims.

XXXIII. Poem 33.: Saint Teresa's Bookmark.

XXXIV. Poem 34.: The Soul's Detachment.

XXXV. Poem 35. : Sonnet To Jesus Crucified.

XXXVI. Poem 36.: Before The Crucifix.

XXXVII. Prayer Of St. Teresa.

XXXVIII. Notes On The Poems.

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

I. Exclamation I.

II. Exclamation II.

III. Exclamation III.

IV. Exclamation IV.

V. Exclamation V.

VI. Exclamation VI.

VII. Exclamation VII.

VIII. Exclamation VIII.

IX. Exclamation IX.

X. Exclamation X.

XI. Exclamation XI.

XII. Exclamation XII.

XIII. Exclamation XIII.

XIV. Exclamation XIV.

XV. Exclamation XV.

XVI. Exclamation XVI.

Conceptions Of The Love Of God On Some Verses Of The Canticle

I. Introduction

II. Chapter I.

III. Chapter II

IV. Chapter III.

V. Chapter IV.

VI. Chapter V.

VII. Chapter VI.

VIII. Chapter VII.

Maxims Of St Teresa

Miscellaneous

I. Papers Found In St. Teresa's Breviary.

II. The Last Days Of Saint Teresa.

III. Saint Teresa's Manifestations After Death.

IV. Additional Maxims

V. Canonisation Of Saint Teresa

VI. Bull Of Gregory XV. For The Canonisation Of St. Teresa.

Preface

Dedication

The Benedictines of Stanbrook desire to express
their sincere thanks to the Reverend Father Benedict Zimmerman for his having kindly revised the
translation of this work and for the notes, index,
and introduction which he has added to it.

Preface

From The Address By His Holiness Pope Leo XIII.

TO THE REV. MARCEL BOUIX, S.J., MARCH 17, 1883.

"Saint Teresa's writings contain a power rather
heavenly than human, which is marvellously efficacious
in reforming men's lives, so that her books can be read
with benefit, not only by those engaged in the direction
of souls, or by those who aspire to eminent sanctity of
life, but also by everyone who takes any serious interest
in the duties and virtues of a Christian — that is to say, in
the salvation of his own soul."

Preface

Introduction.

The Minor Writings of St. Teresa, — Minor because
they occupy but little space in print, although as
a revelation of the beauty and grandeur of her
soul they equal the Life and the Interior Castle,—
comprise the Poems, the Conceptions of the Love
of God, the Exclamations and certain Maxims.
While the Exclamations and the Maxims are fairly
well known to English readers, the Poems and
the Conceptions will probably come as a surprise
to many of them. It is necessary to say a few
words by way of Introduction.

"POEMS."

"I know one," says the Saint in her Life, evidently speaking of herself, " who, though she was
not a poet, yet composed, without any preparation, certain stanzas, full of feeling, most expressive of her pain: they were not the work of her
own understanding; but in order to have a
greater fruition of that bliss which so sweet a
pain occasioned her, she complained of it in that
way to God." ' This was when she had reached
what she describes as the " third water " or the
third state of prayer, which leads to " spiritual
inebriation." It is an overflowing of the heart
which can no longer contain the abundance of
bliss infused into it. Alluding to the verse of
the psalmist, " Cum dilatasti cor meum, — When
Thou didst dilate my heart," St. Teresa considers
that such graces, even of a less high order, cause,
or require a widening of the heart, because they
do not follow the narrow measure of poor humanity. What, then, must it be when grace comes
in a mighty stream, a perfect torrent? Like
a river it precipitates itself down the sheer rock
into a narrow basin which cannot hold it, but
casts it up again with double vehemence, though
not in the form of a solid mass, but dissolved into
a myriad of atoms which break up and reflect
the sunlight in the delicate hues of the rainbow.
Thus the vehemence of the spirit seeks an outlet,
not by bursting its prison walls with elemental
force, but by converting itself into sweet song.
In moments of emotion the sober word is incapable of following the rush of thought. The
love-stricken swain sings in verse the praises of
the object of his passion. The ardent patriot
rouses inert multitudes with mighty song; the
prisoner in his dungeon, the sufferer on his pallet,
finds solace and revives hope in accents that
vibrate in countless hearts. Thus, in a higher
order of things, the soul yearning for the Supreme
Good bursts into verse; the prophet's words
become a war song; the wailing of the downtrodden, of him that is humbled by his fellow men,
or all but crushed under the heavy hand of God,
is turned into lyrics. More than that! Is there
not a song reserved for those who are purchased
from the earth, a " new canticle which no man can
say but the hundred and forty-four thousand?"
" Who could tell the song when the morning
stars praised Me together, and all the sons of God
made a joyful melody? " Above all, is not
God himself the first and the greatest of poets?
For, what is the universe but one great poem?
Are not the Incarnation and the work of Redemption as it were the setting to music of the Word of
God?

No wonder, then, that the great contemplatives
are also great poets. St. Bernard, St. Francis
of Assisi were poets. The German Dominican
mystics have left verses of high merit. St. John
of the Cross, austerest of all mystics, is the sweetest
of all poets. Luis de Leon is a classic in poetry
no less than in prose.

It is therefore not surprising that St. Teresa,
enamoured of God, should have discharged the
superabundance of her heart in accents sweet
and mild. " Though she was not a poet,' — she
thinks, but in this, surely, she is mistaken. She
became a poet the moment she found a worthy
object of her verse. And having found it, she
poured forth her feelings in an uninterrupted
flow of melody.

Some of her poems she committed to paper,
but not all. Writing from Toledo to her brother,
Don Lorenzo de Cepeda (January 2, 1577), she
quotes three strophes of her beautiful poem beginning—

Oh hermosura que excedeis,

adding significantly: "I do not remember the
rest," and, in fact, nothing more has been preserved of this piece of verse. Some other songs
were taken down by the nuns her companions.
Much, however, has been lost, for her biographers
and the persons who gave information during the
various processes of beatification and canonisation were able to quote the beginning of some
poems not contained in the autographs or the
ancient collections. Some verses, too, have been
attributed to her which modern critics are disinclined to consider as her work. This refers
particularly to the beautiful sonnet beginning —

No me mueve, mi Dios, para quererte,

which has also been ascribed to St. Francis
Xavier. There is no evidence that St. Teresa
knew the sonnet form, all her genuine poetry
being of much simpler structure.

It must, however, be pointed out that internal
evidence alone is not a sufficient guide for the
discrimination between her own verses and those
which may be said to belong to her school. Thus,
the Christmas carol beginning —

Oy nos viene a redimir

has been disallowed by Don Vicente de la Fuente
and others, but as the Carmelite nuns of Florence
claim to possess the autograph (or at least part
of it) in St. Teresa's hand, it must be included
among her undoubted works. From this it will
be seen that the safest way to arrive at a reliable
conclusion is to single out those poems for which
there is external evidence, and to suspend judgment with regard to the others.

The fathers who about the middle of the
eighteenth century were commissioned to collect
her writings with a view to preparing a critical
edition — which, unfortunately, never appeared in
print — were able to throw a great deal of light on
this as well as on other portions of her works.
Their labours fell into the hands of Don Vicente
de la Fuente at a time when, practically, all the
convents of Carmelite friars were dissolved, so
that he was the first and for a long time the only
one to profit by their studies. He divided the
poems into four classes — namely, those that are
unquestionably genuine, those that are probably
so, others which are doubtful, and some which
are certainly not her work. The first class comprises seven,
the second fifteen, the third twenty-one, and the last three numbers. He did not
publish all these, but only thirty, for some were
lost or had never been committed to writing,
and others could not be traced by him.

The French Carmelite nuns, already repeatedly
quoted in these volumes, have taken up the matter
anew in the sixth volume of their (Euvres completes
de Sainte Terlse, and the result of their investigations has been, in the main, accepted by those
responsible for the present edition.

Only four poems are preserved in St. Teresa's
own handwriting — namely, the one beginning —

Cuan triste es, Dios mio,

and the second version of the Glose, beginning —

Vivo ya fuera de mi.

These were published in facsimile at Madrid in
1884 by Don Antonio Selfa. As has been mentioned above, the Carmelite nuns of Florence
possess fragments of the autograph of two carols —

! Ah ! pastores que veldts,

and

Oy nos viene a redimir.

The remaining poems preserved in various convents of nuns were collected by Father Andres de
la Encarnacion in 1759. He found sixteen poems
at Toledo, fourteen of which remained unedited
until 1861, when Don Vicente published his first
edition of the works of St. Teresa. At Cuerva
there were five, one of which is, however, not by
St. Teresa, and another was known previous to
Fuente. The Convent of Madrid possessed a
collection made in 1606 containing five poems,
four of which were already known. The five
pieces of verse preserved at Guadalajara are all
contained in the preceding collections. From
these sources Fuente derived eighteen poems,
not previously known, plus three from other manuscripts in the National Library at Madrid. In his
second edition (1881) he added two more from the
Convent of Soria. The French Carmelite nuns,
availing themselves of these sources, as well as
of some recent publications and of the labours of
Don Manuel Serrano y Sanz, have collected as
many as thirty-six poems (one of these a mere
fragment) attributed with various degrees of
probability to St. Teresa; they have moreover
published two which they unhesitatingly declare
to be some one else's work.

In the English translation which follows as
literally as possible the Spanish text, some poems
for which there is but slender evidence have been
disregarded. As to the rest, it is probably wisest
to point out that the following pieces may with
perfect safety be attributed to St. Teresa:

1. Cuan triste es, Dios mio / Autograph.

2. Vivo sin vivir en mi / Yepes.

3. Vivo ya fuera de mi / Autograph.

4. Oh hermosura que excedeis / Letter of St. Teresa.

5. En las internets entranas / Autograph known to have existed.

6. Alma buscarte has en mi / Vejamen.

7. Vuestra soy, para Vos naci / Attested to by Julian Davila.

8. Hermana porqui veleis Original [autograph] said to have been in the possession of Fray Jose de la Madre de Dios.

9. QuiSn os trajo oca, / Referred to in Reforma, bk. xiii. doncella ch. xxi.

10. Cruz, descanso sabroso de mi vida / Attested to by Guiomar of the Blessed Sacrament, nun at Salamanca, professed in 1576.

11. ! Ah! pastores que veldis / Fragment of autograph at Florence.

12. Hoy nos viene a redimir / Idem.

With regard to the authenticity of the rest there
are some cases, such as that of the two pieces from
Soria, Caminemos para el cielo, and En la cruz
esta la vida, where probability almost amounts
to certainty, whereas in others prudence suggests
that we should reserve our judgment. It is
well to bear in mind that in Spain, as well as in
some other countries, it is customary to celebrate
the great feasts of the year, or such events as
clothings, professions or jubilees, by poetical
effusions appropriate to the occasion which do
not always make pretension to literary merit.
While it is perfectly possible that St. Teresa may
sometimes have indulged in such rapid lines,
correspondence shows, even in hurried letters,
such a refinement of diction and depth of thought
that it is not easy to reconcile the style of her
prose with that of some of the verses attributed
to her.

"CONCEPTIONS OF THE LOVE OF GOD."

The adventures of the small work entitled —
somewhat infelicitously — Conceptions of the Love of
God might almost find a place among the romances
of literature. Like all her other books, St. Teresa
wrote it at the bidding of holy Obedience. When
she informed her confessor, Diego de Yanguas,
that it was completed, he, without even looking
at it, commanded her to throw it into the fire,
as it was unbecoming that a woman should write
on the Canticle of Canticles. Ribera thinks it
would have been far better for her to have waited
a few days and consulted some more experienced
men, but Teresa, at the word of command, knew
no delay, and the precious papers were consigned
to the flames. Ribera says the name of that rash
confessor was not known, but some years after
the publication of his biography Father Jerome
Gracian was not only able to mention the name,
but even to print some chapters of the work itself,
which, he says, had been furtively copied by one
of the nuns and thus saved from destruction.

Untiring researches into the life and works of
St. Teresa, begun in the middle of the eighteenth
century and continued to the present day, have
step by step elucidated the mystery, and at the
same time furnished us with a text superior to
that printed by Father Gracian in 1611, so that
we are now in a position to present the reader
with a work in no way inferior to the other writings
of the Saint.

The limits of time between which this book
must have been composed can be accurately fixed
by two dates. In the seventh chapter the Saint
refers to an event which took place in Easter
week 1571, while she was staying at Salamanca.
Hearing one of the nuns sing most tenderly of the
sufferings of a soul desirous of seeing God but
retained in this mortal life, she fell into so deep
a trance that her life became seriously endangered.
She related this occurrence in one of the additions
to her Life, and also in the Interior Castle. The
Conceptions must therefore have been written
after 1571. The other date, June 10, 1575, supplies the terminus ad quern. On the first leaf of
the copy of the Conceptions known as that of
Alba de Tormes there appears a note in the handwriting of Father Dominic Bafiez: " This consideration is by Teresa of Jesus; I have found
nothing in it to shock me. Fray Domingo
Bafiez "; and towards the end of the first leaf
he wrote the following censure: " I have carefully examined these four quires which comprise
eight leaves and a half; I can find nothing reprehensible in the doctrine contained in them, which
on the contrary is good and safe. Given at the
college of San Gregorio at Valladolid, June 10,
1575. Fray Domingo Banez."

The movements of St. Teresa in the interval
are well known. She left Salamanca in the early
summer of 1571, remained a short time at Medina,
and went to Avila; in June she was sent back to
Medina, and in the middle of July she was again
called to Avila, where she lived first at St. Joseph's
convent, and in October went to the Incarnation
in the quality of prioress, remaining there one
year and nine months, allowing only for a short
journey to Alba de Tormes in February 1573.
In July of that year she was sent to Salamanca,
where she lived for six months, after which, passing
through Alba, Medina and Avila, she proceeded to
Segovia, where she founded a convent. In October
1574 she returned for a short while to Avila and
went afterwards to Valladolid. Three months
later she went by way of Medina, Avila, Toledo
and Malagon to Veas, where she stayed from
February 1575 till May, when she went to Seville.

Now, it is known that during her stay at Segovia
she was engaged on the composition of a work
which cannot have been either her Life or the
Way of Perfection, both long since completed, nor
the Book of Foundations, then interrupted and laid
aside, nor the Interior Castle, which was only
begun three years later. One of the nuns then
living at Segovia, Anne of the Incarnation (de
Arbizo) relates in her deposition that she, being
then a novice, repeatedly witnessed the ecstasies
of the Saint. One evening while passing by her
door she saw her writing, her face being lit up
as by a bright light. She wrote very fast, without making any corrections. An hour later, at
about midnight, she ceased, and the light disappeared; the Saint then knelt down and remained in prayer for three hours, after which she
went to sleep. The same witness thinks the
book then in course of composition was the
Interior Castle, but that is impossible, for this was
only begun in June 1577, when Anne of the Incarnation was in the convent of Caravaca. It
must therefore have been a different work; and
remembering that Father Banez' censure bears
the date of June 1575, and is not appended to
the original manuscript but to a copy, and, moreover, that the " rash " confessor who commanded
the book to be destroyed was Fray Diego de
Yanguas, then living at Segovia and acting as
the Saint's confessor during her sojourn there,
the conclusion is irresistible that the Conceptions
were written in that convent in summer 1574.
Three nuns have left it on record that this learned
and excellent theologian afterwards expressed
from the pulpit itself his regret at having given
a rash command to the Saint, and thus caused
the loss of so valuable a writing.

Perhaps it was not so very rash, after all.
Although not a commentary on the Canticle of
Canticles, the Conceptions do comment on some
texts taken from it. Just at that time the Spanish
Inquisition was extraordinarily strict and vigilant,
not only with a view to prevent dangerous books
from obtaining circulation, but even withholding
excellent works which in the hands of inquisitive
or unsettled readers might lead to misunderstandings. St. Teresa herself complained once to our
Lord of the sweeping order of the Grand Inquisitor which deprived her even of the works
of Fray Luis de Granada. Though she courted
an inquiry by the Inquisition into her spirit and
way of prayer, she was seriously troubled when she
learned that the manuscript of her Life was in
the hands of the Holy Office (spring, 1575), where
it remained until some years after her death. At
the very time when she wrote on some verses of
the Canticles, the saintly and learned Fray Luis
de Leon was languishing in the prisons of the
Inquisition at Valladolid for having translated
the Canticle into Spanish; he remained a prisoner
from March 1572 till the end of 1576. What
would have been the fate of St. Teresa if the
Inquisition had got hold of her work, especially
during the time when she was maligned on account
of the quarrel between the Calced and the Discalced Carmelites?

But whether de Yanguas's action was rash or
no, it did not deprive us of St. Teresa's writing.
The story how the book came to be saved is not
quite clear. It appears that the Saint was in
the habit — though not an invariable one — of
getting her books copied as soon as they were
written, sometimes even before they were completed. Either one of the nuns made a fair copy,
or St. Teresa herself dictated to an amanuensis,
taking the opportunity of making additions or
alterations; which accounts for certain variants
in her works. It is quite possible that, instead of
one, several copies may have been taken of the
Conceptions, for, according to the sworn information of Dona Maria de Toledo y Colonna, Duchess
of Alba, Fray Diego de Yanguas ordered the
Saint " to get together the original and any copies
that might have been taken, and burn the whole."

[Note: OEuvrcs, v. 371. On p. 369 the French Carmelites quote a
letter of St. Teresa to the prioress of Valladolid, dated Segovia,
May 13 and 14. 1574, in which she is represented as saying,
" Father Dominic will show you certain papers which I am sending him," as if these papers referred to th? Conceptions. But read
in the context the y will be found to refer to an entirely different
matter. " laughed a little at his letter," St. Teresa writes,
free from the complaint at the time. Do not tell Padre
Domingo this, for I wrote him a very charming note [muy
graciosamente] which perhaps he will show you. Indeed I was
delighted with both your letters, especially with yours, at
knowing that saint, [i.e. Sister Beatriz of the Incarnation, see
Foundations-, ch. xii.] is at rest, having died such a beautiful
death." In the same letter, alluding to the mission of Fathers
n and Mariano in Andalusia (see Foundations, Introduction, p. xxxiii. a, note 1), she says: ' Oh, if
you only knew what an agitation is going on secretly in favour
of the Discalced! There is reason to thank God for it. The
whole stir has been caused by the two who went to Andalusia,
Gracian and Mariano. My pleasure is tempered by sorrow at
the pain it will give our Father General, to whom I am deeply
attached. On the other hand I see that otherwise we should
have lost all. Will you all pray about the matter? Father
Domingo and some papers I am sending you will inform you
about what is happening." Neither passage has any connection
with the Conceptions. ]

A similar order had been given her years before
by Fray Domingo Banez with regard to the Life,
but she had asked him to reflect well on the
matter, and then burn the book if he thought it
necessary; but he was satisfied with her obedience
and humility, and on second thoughts did not
venture to burn the volume. It is true that de
Yanguas, too, pretended afterwards that he only
wished to try her obedience, but this seems rather
a lame excuse, and his true motive was in all
probability the one already explained. Be that
as it may, at least one of the copies escaped destruction. The Duchess of Alba (already mentioned) says that the community of Alba de Tormes
hid it and gave it to her safe keeping when Father
de Yanguas ordered the work to be burnt. But
here again there is an inexplicable difficulty. The
order must have been given while both the Saint
and her confessor were at Segovia, and, as we
have seen, almost immediately upon the completion of the work. How, then, did the community of Alba secure a copy of it so soon, and
before the work had received any approbation?
It is more likely that at the moment of the destruction of the original the copy in question was
on its way to Father Banez at Valladolid for
approbation (especially if the order to write it
had come from him), and that he gave it to
the nuns at Alba, as the Saint was then at Seville,
where she remained a year. It is more than
doubtful whether she ever knew that this copy
had survived.

Besides the copy of Alba there exist three
others; one at Consuegra, which begins with what
it calls Chapter VII., which, however, is identical
with Chapters III. and IV. of the printed text,
while Chapter VIII. corresponds to Chapters V. and
VI., and another unnumbered chapter contains
the beginning of Chapter VII. below.

The copy of Baeza agrees more or less with
that of Alba, while the last, of Las Nieves, is
akin to that of Consuegra, but contains some
important additions not to be found elsewhere.
The only way to account for these variants is
to suppose that the Saint herself revised the text
during the transcription and that copies of the
two versions escaped the flames.

When Fray Luis de Leon undertook the publication of the works of St. Teresa he knew nothing
of the Conceptions, or, if he was acquainted with
the book, did not venture to print it, having been
taught a lesson by his own experience.

In the year 1611 Father Jerome Gracian, then
at Brussels, published the first edition of the
Conceptions from a copy which he says had been
communicated to him. A second edition appeared
in the following year. His text agrees, on the
whole, with the copy of Alba, but does not contain
the prologue, and presents some considerable
omissions; in many places he " improved M on
the words of the Saint, as was his habit; he also
wrote a more or less extensive commentary on
each chapter. This edition, minus the commentaries which were forbidden by the Inquisition,
has been reproduced in every issue of the works
of Saint Teresa until 1861, when Don Vicente de
la Fuente availed himself for the first time of
the labours of Fathers Manuel de Santa Maria
and Andres de la Encarnacion. Woodhead in his
English translation of 1675, and Canon Dalton
(who only translated four chapters) followed it.
It goes without saying that the translation contained in this volume has been made from the
ancient copies, and embodies the variants.

But it is necessary to answer a question which
must present itself to the reader. How much of
the original work has been preserved? The story
of the furtive preservation of "some chapters,'
the fact that the copy of Consuegra begins with
Chapter VII., and a remark by Father Jerome
Gracian to the effect that the Conceptions formed
a " large book" — although he avers that he has
never seen the original, — have led many writers,
inclusive of Ribera and the Bollandists, to suppose
that only a small fragment has survived destruction. On the other hand both the opening and the
conclusion of the treatise present analogies with the
openings and conclusions of the Saint's remaining
works; Sister Isabel of St. Dominic, who says she
has had the autograph in her hands, and Father
Bafiez, speak not of a large book, but of "some
quires "; the author of the Re forma, though he is
mistaken in assigning 1578 as the date of composition, and in defending Yanguas against the
charge of having ordered the burning of the
manuscript, is of opinion that nothing has been
lost. The present writer had long since come to
the same conclusion on other grounds, and the
French Carmelites share this conviction. 3

"EXCLAMATIONS."

Speaking of the fourth and highest degree of
prayer, St. Teresa says that a soul either immediately before or after receiving the grace of
Divine union breaks forth into words of rapturous
love. She then proceeds to give an example of
such an Exclamation: " O Lord," she says, "consider what Thou art doing: forget not so soon
the evils I have done! To forgive me, Thou must
already have forgotten them; yet in older that
there may be some limit to Thy graces I beseech
Thee remember them." * And so on.

The stirring passage beginning, " O Prince of
all the earth, Thou who art indeed my Spouse, "
is accompanied by the marginal note Exclamation
in the Saint's own handwriting in the manuscript
of the first version of the Way of Perfection.

Again, in the Interior Castle 3 we come across
these words: certain secret intuitions " produce
such overmastering feelings that the person
experiencing them cannot refrain from amorous
exclamations, such as: ' O Life of my life, and
Power which doth uphold me! ' with other aspirations of the same kind."

A collection of Exclamations in this style appeared in the first printed edition of the Saint's
works, Salamanca, 1588, and has been reproduced in all subsequent Spanish editions as well
as in numerous translations. The authenticity
of the book has never been questioned, as it bears
on every line the unmistakable imprint of the
mind and the diction of St. Teresa. Editors and
critics have unhesitatingly accepted it as genuine.
Yet there is a mystery about it. It is not known
what became of the manuscript after Fray Luis
de Leon had done with it, for it is not among the
autographs preserved at the Escorial, nor has it
been discovered elsewhere. The work is never
mentioned either in the correspondence of the
Saint or in the depositions of her spiritual daughters
and her friends on the occasion of her beatification
and canonisation. Only her niece, Teresa of
Jesus (Teresita) says that the original manuscript
of the Life as well as " many other papers in her
handwriting " were taken from the convent of
the Incarnation in order to be examined. But
there is no indication that the Exclamations were
among these "other papers." Some small fragments in her own handwriting have, however,
been discovered. It appears that St. Teresa was
in the habit of giving her nuns short extracts from
her writings signed with her name, either as
keepsakes or when they were in need of advice
or consolation. The convent of the Carmelite
nuns of St. Anne at Madrid possesses three of
these, one from the fourth and two from the last
Exclamation; the nuns of Guadalajara, too, have
i per containing three lines from the last
Exclamation. All these fragments bear the signature of the Saint.

A more extensive manuscript belongs to the
Convent of Granada. Until lately it has been
considered an autograph, but the French Carmelites, who possess a photographic reproduction,
have been informed by connoisseurs that it is
not by St. Teresa herself, although in a contemporary hand. The present writer, having seen
neither the original nor the photographs, is not in
a position to offer an opinion. It contains the
whole of the first, ninth, tenth, eleventh and
twelfth Exclamations (with noteworthy variants
from the published text), as well as portions of
the second and thirteenth.

When were these Exclamations composed?
Fray Luis de Leon assigns them to the year 1569,
without, however, giving any reason for this date;
but the presumption is that he found it in his copy.
On the other hand the author of the Reforma,
without a word of explanation, mentions 1579 as
the date of the book. This may be due — as the
French Carmelites think — to a printing mistake;
nevertheless his statement has been accepted by
the Bollandists and other writers. But the
French nuns not only adopt the former year, but
suggest an even earlier date, namely 1559. They
hold that the vehement desires of seeing God and
being for ever united with Him, which form the
principal argument of the Exclamations, belong to
that period of the Saint's life of which she says:
" I saw myself dying with a desire to see God, and
I knew not how to seek that life otherwise than
by dying." Again, after describing the vision
of hell which made so deep an impression on her
mind: "It was that vision that filled me with
the very great distress which I feel at the sight
of so many lost souls." Without contesting the
force of these passages, it must be averred that
this particular frame of mind lasted much longer,
as is proved beyond the possibility of a doubt
by the occurrence at Salamanca at Easter 1571.
This, indeed, may have been a last explosion of
unprecedented violence. The period of vehement
desires certainly ended at the time of her mystical
espousals, November 18, 1572; and this is, of
course, still more true of the state of her soul after
being admitted to the mystical marriage. " The
most surprising thing to me," she says, " is that the
sorrow and distress which such souls felt because
they could not die and enjoy our Lord's presence
are now exchanged for as fervent a desire of serving
Him, of causing Him to be praised, and of helping
others to the utmost of their power. Not only
have they ceased to long for death, but they
wish for a long life and most heavy crosses, if
such would bring ever so little honour to our
Lord." And, a little farther on: "True, people
in this state forget this at times, and are seized
with tender longings to enjoy God and to leave
this land of exile, especially as they see how little
they serve Him. Then, however, they return to
themselves, reflecting how they possess Him continually in their souls, and so are satisfied, offering
to His Majesty their willingness to live as the most
costly oblation they can make." l

From what has been said it follows that while
it may be taken as an ascertained fact that the
Exclamations were written before 1572, there is
not sufficient evidence to prove that they date
from 1559 rather than from 1569, or, for the
matter of that, any other year previous to the
"Spiritual Espousals" of St. Teresa. Nothing
seems to militate against the date suggested by
the French nuns except the possibility that Fray
Luis de Leon may have had positive evidence
for his statement. The question must therefore
remain open.

The number of Exclamations is variously given
as sixteen or seventeen. We have adopted the
division into sixteen, chiefly for the convenience
of the English readers, because Bishop Milner had
adopted the same. Those who count seventeen
reckon Excl. x. 6-9 as Excl. xi., Excl. xi. as xii.,
and so on. They have been twice translated into
English, first by Abraham Woodhead and his
friend, and afterwards by Bishop Milner. The
former translation, literal and correct, but rather
antiquated, is not easily accessible now. The
latter is heavy and incorrect. It was not made
direct from the original, but from the French
translation of St. Teresa's works by the Jansenist
Robert Arnauld d'Andilly, whom, strange to say,
even Canon Dalton in his various translations only
too often followed as his authority. Milner says
that he compared d'Andilly with P. Cyprien de
la Nativite x and found them to agree! The
present translation appeared first in 1906, but has
now been revised with a view to rendering it
more concise. It would have been easy, had it
been considered necessary, to find parallel passages
for nearly every phrase.

"MAXIMS."

A collection of sixty-nine short sentences attributed to St. Teresa appeared under the title of
Avisos de la Madre Teresa de Jesus in the first
edition of the Way of Perfection published by Don
Teutonio de Braganza, Archbishop of Evora, at
the request of the Saint herself in 1583, shortly
after her death. Neither the publication itself
nor the correspondence of St. Teresa contain any
indication as to whether the manuscript of these
Advices or Maxims was supplied to the editor by the
Saint, or whether he obtained it from a different
quarter. All that is known is that Mother Mary
of St. Joseph (de Salazar), successively Prioress
of Seville and Lisbon, affirmed in her deposition
for the beatification that Teresa had written some
spiritual counsels for her sons and daughters.
All subsequent editions and translations are therefore based on the editio princeps of the Way of
Perfection. Some of the historians of the Order
have been obliged to admit their ignorance as
to the whereabouts of the original manuscript,
while others recorded their opinion that no manuscript ever existed, but that the collection was
made from oral tradition. Don Vicente de la
Fuente, as late as 1881, said that nobody knew
where the original was, but at the same time he
drew attention to some papers preserved in the
convent of St. Anne at Madrid. Mr. Lewis,
contrary to his usual caution, is very positive in
his statement: " These Maxims are regarded as
the writing of St. Teresa, though no manuscript
has been discovered that contains them and
nobody seems to have seen even a word of them
in her handwriting. Their authenticity has never
been doubted, but if it had been it might have
been suggested that they were not written by the
Saint, but given her by one of her confessors of
the Society of Jesus." Unless this passage contains a printing mistake it would even appear
that in his opinion the Maxims might be the
work not of St. Teresa, but of a Jesuit, and the
Saint not the author, but the recipient of these
advices.

Mr. Lewis was, however, egregiously mistaken,
for in the very year when Fuente expressed his
ignorance as to the original of the Maxims, Don
Francisco Herrero y Bayona, the editor of the
photographic reproduction of the Way of Perfection, published at Madrid the facsimile of thirty
Maxims belonging to the nuns of St. Anne, and,
two years later, in the Appendix to the Way of
Perfection, one more Maxim, the property of the
Carmelite nuns of Las Mara villas of Madrid. In
1884 there appeared a further facsimile of nine
Maxims, but without indication of the whereabouts
of the original. It is therefore certain that forty
out of sixty-nine Maxims were written by St.
Teresa. These are Nos. 1-9 (publication of 1884);
10-26; 39-49 and 68-69 fr°m St. Anne's, and
No. 62 from Las Mara villas. The rest, namely,
27-38, 50-61 and 63-67, have so far not
been traced. Some of these Maxims appear
to answer personal needs, as they go beyond
the rules laid down in the Constitutions. But
many have a general bearing, not only in view
of the requirements of the religious life, but
affecting Christians of divers states of life.
They have been commented upon by P, Alonso
de Andrade, S.J., in his work Avisos espirituales
Barcelona, 1647.

[Note: There are three English translations besides
the one contained in this volume, namely, those
by Woodhead (1675, lii. 356), Canon Dalton in
the Appendix to the Way of Perfection, and
Mr. Lewis, already mentioned. ]

Among the papers left by St. Teresa were some
odds and ends, not easily to be brought under
one heading, but without which no edition of
her works would be complete. The place of
honour belongs to her famous Bookmark Nada te
turbe, which was found in one of her breviaries,
formerly in the possession of the Calced Carmelite
fathers of Lisbon. These simple axioms must
frequently have given her wonderful strength
and courage in the midst of her trials; they have
encouraged and cheered thousands of souls since
her death. Like many aphorisms, they have
baffled some of the most skilful translators.

The Prayer which follows is preserved in the
Saint's handwriting and with her signature at
the convent of St. Anne at Madrid. It was published early in the seventeenth century in the
French translation of St. Teresa's works by Father
Eliseus of St. Bernard (1630), together with seventeen prayers attributed to her. The authenticity
of these seems not beyond doubt, and they have
been judiciously eliminated from more recent
editions, but the prayer printed in this volume is
unquestionably her work.

The Prophecy was written on the fly-leaf of
another breviary, now at Medina del Campo;
the leaf, which has been detached from the book
and framed like a reliquary, is preserved at the
same place. The meaning is very obscure, but
Mother Mary of St. Joseph (Dantisco) asserted
in her deposition for the beatification of the Saint
that her brother, Father Gracian, held the clue.

The note about her baptism comes from the
same breviary which contained the Bookmark.

Another section is entitled The Last Days of St.
Teresa. Her own works carry us almost to the
brink of the grave. The Book of Foundations
was completed at the end of June or the beginning
of July 1582 (see ch. xxxi. 17); her last letter
bears date Valladolid, September 15. Nineteen
days later she rendered her soul to God. Her
deathbed was surrounded by the community of
Alba de Tormes, among whom were some of her
most intimate friends; every word falling from
her lips was treasured up, and when the moment
arrived for collecting all the accounts and reminiscences for the purpose of completing the picture
of her life, these deathbed recollections formed a
not unimportant part. They have been selected
and strung together by the translator, and it is
felt that no excuse is needed for presenting them
to the English reader.

On the occasion of the beatification of the Saint,
April 24, 1614, no Papal Bull was issued, but only
a Brief granting the Discalced Carmelites as well
as the town of Alba de Tormes the right to say
the Divine Office and to celebrate mass in her
honour on October 5, which faculty was afterwards (September 12, 1620) extended to the
other branch of the Order. The solemn canonisation took place on March 12, 1622, and the
Bull, which was signed by Pope Gregory XV. and
thirty-six Cardinals, is a masterpiece, and has
supplied the lessons for the Divine Office in the
Carmelite breviary. It is well worth giving in
full in this edition.

After her death Saint Teresa is said to have
appeared to several of her spiritual children, and
given them heavenly advice. Some of these
posthumous sayings are very doubtful, but there
are others which come from trustworthy sources
and bear the stamp of the Saint's mind. These
have been collected and placed at the end of the
account of her death.

The Letters of St. Teresa, of which only specimens have been published by Abraham Woodhead
in the seventeenth, and Canon Dalton in the last,
century, are now in preparation, and with the
blessing of God, will appear before long. Apart
from these, the present volume completes the
collection of the works of the great Saint of Avila.

Benedict Zimmerman,

O.C.D.

St. Luke's, Wincanton,
October 15, 1912.

"I am obliged to warn the reader, that he must
not fancy he has gained an idea of Gregory's poetry
from my attempt at translation; and should it be
objected that this is not treating Gregory well, I
answer that at least I am as true to the original as
if I exhibited it in plain prose."

Cardinal Newman's " Church of the Fathers
(Rise and Fall of St. Gregory Nazianzen).

Poems

Poem 1.: Self-Oblation.

Vuestro soy, para Vos naci.

Lord, I am Thine, for I was born for Thee!

Reveal what is it Thou dost ask of me.

sovereign Lord, of majesty supreme!

Wisdom, that existed from all time!

O Bounty, showing pity on my soul!

God, one sole Being, merciful, sublime,

Behold this basest of created things,

As thus, with hardihood its love it sings,

And tell me, Lord, what Thou dost ask of me!

Lo, I am Thine! Thou hast created me:

And I am Thine, Thou hast redeemed me:

And I am Thine, for Thou dost bear with me,

And Thine, for Thou hast called me to Thee,

And Thine, Who dost preserve me at Thy cost

Nor leavest me to perish 'mid the lost —

Say what it is, Lord, Thou dost will of me.

Declare what dost decree, O Master kind!

If serf so vile have any fitting task,

And tell what office by Thy will ordained

Is work that from so base a slave dost ask!

Behold, sweet Love, I wait for Thy command,

Behold me, Lord, before Whose face I stand!

Do Thou reveal what Thou dost will of me?

Behold my heart, which here I bring, and in

Thine hand as glad entire free-offering lay,

Together with my body, life, and soul,

The love, the longings that my being sway!

To Thee, Redeemer and most gentle Spouse,

In willing holocaust I pledge my vows,

What is there, Lord, that I may do for Thee?

Bestow long life, or straightway bid me die;

Let health be mine, or pain and sickness send,

With honour or dishonour; be my path

Beset by war, or peaceful till the end.

My strength or weakness be as Thou shalt choose,

For naught Thou askest shall I e'er refuse, —

I only wish what Thou wilt have of me.

Assign me riches, keep in poverty,

And let me cherished or neglected dwell,

In joy or mourning as Thou wilt, upraised

To highest heaven, or hurled down to hell!

Whether the sky be bright, from cloudlets free,

It matters not — I leave the choice to Thee,

What lot, O Lord, wilt Thou decide for me?

Give contemplation if Thou wilt, or let

My lonely soul in dryness ever pine;

Abundance and devotion be the gift

Thou choosest, or a sterile soul be mine!

O Majesty supreme, in naught apart

From Thy decree can I find peace of heart!

Say what it is, Lord, Thou dost wish of me?

Lord, give me wisdom, or, if love demand,

Leave me in ignorance; it matters naught

If mine be years of plenty, or beset

With famine direful and with parching drought!

Be darkness over all or daylight clear,

Despatch me hither, keep me stationed here,

Say what it is, Lord, Thou wilt have of me?

If Thou shouldst destine me for happiness,

For Love's sake, joy and happiness I greet;

Bid me endure and labour till I die,

Resigned, in work and pain my death I'll meet,

Reveal the how, the where, the when; for this

Is the sole boon, O Love, I crave of Thee,

That thou declare what Thou wouldst have of me!

Let Calvary or Thabor be my fate,

A desert or a fertile land of rest j

Like Job, in sorrow let me mourning weep,

Or lie, like John, in peace upon Thy breast;

Bear fruit and nourish, or, a withered vine

I'll perish fruitless, so the choice be Thine!

Reveal, O Lord, what Thou dost ask of me!

Like Joseph as he lay in shackles bound,

Or holding over Egypt first command;

David chastised, atoning for his sins,

Or David crowned as ruler o'er the land;

With Jonas struggling, 'mid the raging

Submerged, or set from ills and tempests free —

Declare, O Lord, what Thou wilt have of me!

Then bid me speak or bid me silence keep,

Make me a fecund or a barren land;

Expose my wounds by the stern Law's decree

Or comfort me by Gospel message bland.

Let me in torture lie or comfort give,

I crave alone that Thou within me live,

And shouldst reveal what Thou wilt have of me!

Poems

Poem 2. : The Soul'S Desire.

Vivo sin vivir en mi.

I live, but yet I live not in myself,

For since aspiring to a life more high

I ever die because I do not die.

This mystic union of Love divine,

The bond whereby alone my soul doth live,

Hath made of God my Captive — but to me

True liberty of heart the while doth give.

And yet my spirit is so sorely pained

At gazing on my Lord by me enchained,

That still I die because I do not die.

Alas, how wearisome a waste is life!

How hard a fate to bear! In exile here

Fast locked in iron fetters lies my soul,

A prisoner in earth's mournful dungeon drear.

But yet the very hope of some relief

Doth wound my soul with such tormenting grief,

That still I die because I do not die.

No life so bitter, none so sad as mine

While exiled from my Lord my days are spent,

For though to love be sweet, yet hope deferred

Is wearisome: from life's long banishment,

God, relieve me! from this mournful freight

Which crushes with a more than leaden weight

So that I die because I do not die.

I live, since death must surely come at last; —

Upon that hope alone my trust I build,

For when this mortal life shall die, at length

My longings then will wholly be fulfilled.

Come, Death, come, bring life's certainty to me,

O tarry thou no more! — I wait for thee,

And ever die because I do not die.

Behold, how strong to master us is love!

Molest me, Life, no more! wouldst thou attain

Thine end, lose thou thyself, for by that loss

Alone canst thou the life eternal gain!

Come, gentle Death, sweet Death, do thou delay

No moment longer that most welcome day

Whereon I die because I do not die!

We do but dream we live in earthly life;

Our sole true life is that of heaven on high,

Nor can existence any true delight

Confer until this mortal life shall die.

O Death, I pray thee, shun me not in scorn,

For life to me is but a death forlorn

Wherein I die because I do not die!

Say, Life, what is there I can do for Him,

My God, Who in my heart His home doth make,

Except supremer joy in Him attain

By forfeiture of thee for His dear sake?

longed-for Death, that maketh all mine own

Him Whom my heart aspireth for alone,

The while I die because I do not die!

Apart from Thee, my God, my one Desire

I long for, what is life disconsolate

Save lengthened agony of life prolonged?

Ne'er have I looked upon so sad a fate.

I grieve to see my soul's most mournful state,

Beset with ills so wholly consummate

That still I die because I do not die!

The gasping fish finds easement from its hurt

In death, when drawn from out its native wave,

And all the agony that dying brings

Is cured by death itself within the grave.

Can any death with mine in pain compare,

Or rival this most grievous life I bear

Wherein I die because I do not die?

Anon my heart begins to find relief

While gazing on Thee in the Sacred Host,

Yet seeing that I still enjoy Thee not

'Tis then I feel my exile from Thee most.

Thus all I see doth but increase my pain,

While still I languish for Thy sight in vain

And ever die because I do not die.

If e'er the hope of looking on Thy face

Inspires my heart with gladness and relief,

The dread lest I may lose Thee in the end

Renews with twofold pang my bitter grief.

Thus fast beset with oft-recurring fears

I wait and hope: slow pass the weary years

While still I die because I do not die.

Deliver me in mercy from this death

And grant, O God, the gift of life at last,

Nor let me linger in captivity

Enchained to earth with bonds and fetters fast!

I die with longing to behold Thee near

And gain true life! Without Thy presence dear,

Behold, I die because I do not die?

Henceforth I will bewail my living death,

In mournful lay my woeful life lament

While thus my sins detain me in the world

Long exiled: from this earthly banishment,

O God, when will the dawn of that glad day

Deliver, when at last I truly say

That now I die because I do not die?

Poems

Poem 3. : The Soul'S Desire. (Second Version)

Vivo sin vivir en mi.

A life apart, estranged from myself,

now my lot because I die of love;

And since our Lord has sought me for His own.

In Him, not in myself, I live and move.

For when my heart to Christ I wholly gave

Therein this epigraph did He engrave —

That I should die because I do not die!

This mystic union of love divine,

This bond whereby alone my soul doth live,

Hath made my God my Captive — yet to me

True liberty of heart the while doth give.

And yet my spirit is so sorely pained

When I behold my Lord by me enchained,

That still I die because I do not die.

Alas! how wearisome a waste is life!

How hard a fate to bear my exile here

Where locked in iron fetters lies my soul,

A prisoner in earth's mournful dungeon drear!

And yet to muse upon the day relief

Shall come, doth wound with such tormenting grief

That still I die because I do not die.

Achieve thy task — forsake me utterly!

O Life, I pray of thee, molest me not!

For when I die, throughout eternity

What but to joy and live will be my lot?

Delay thou not to mitigate my grief,

O Death! but in thy pity bring relief,

Because I die in that I do not die!

Poems

Poem 4.: The Soul'S Exile.

!Cuan triste es, Dios mio!

Sadly I pine, O God of mine!

Afar from Thee I sigh!

With yearning heart, from Thee apart,

I long to die!

Weary the day and long the way

That on this earth we wend:

A sojourn drear man passes here,

In exile doomed to spend.

Master adored! O worshipped Lord,

I for deliverance cry!

Craving the grace to see Thy face,

I long to die!

With sorrow rife, our earthly life

Could not more bitter be,

Nor can life dwell within the soul

While kept apart from Thee!

O Thou my sweet and only Good,

In misery I sigh!

Craving the grace to see Thy face,

I long to die!

O Death benign! upon me shine

And succour thou my pain!

The blow dost deal is sweet to feel,

Whereby we freedom gain!

What blissful fate, O my Beloved,

To dwell with Thee for aye!

Grant me the grace to see Thy face,

And let me die!

A love earth-born is ever drawn

To life that's spent on earth —

For life of bliss alone, doth hope

The love of heavenly birth!

Ah, who can live, eternal God,

Apart from Thee, I cry!

Craving the grace to see Thy face,

I beg to die!

For he who dwells in this sad world

In sorrow ever sighs,

Since true life never can be found

Except in Paradise!

Do Thou assist me, O my God,

To win that life on high,

And grant me grace to see Thy face!

Oh, let me die!

Then who would fear, if death drew near,

To let it work its will,

Since thus we buy eternally

A joy that lasteth still?

For oh, to love Thee, God of mine,

Is endless ecstasy!

Then grant me grace to see Thy face,

Because I long to die!

My anguished soul doth faint for grief

And utters many a moan!

Alas! what heart can live apart

From Him it loves alone?

Free me, oh free me, from the pain

In which I ever lie!

Bestow the grace to see Thy face,

And let me die!

When on the cruel, hidden hook

The river- fish is caught,

Its pains and struggles by its death

Are to an ending brought.

My only Good! apart from Thee,

Such is mine agony —

Then give me grace to see Thy face,

And let me die!

O Master mine! My anxious soul

Doth seek for Thee in vain,

Since Thou art still invisible,

Nor dost relieve its pain.

Then from my love thereby inflamed

Breaks forth the bitter cry —

Oh grant me grace to see Thy face,

That I may die!

When Thou, my God, within my heart

Dost deign to come as Guest,

The instant thought of losing Thee

Doth lacerate my breast!

Ah, woe is me! my anguish keen

Doth make me moan and sigh

To win the grace to see Thy face,

And seeing — die!

Lord, finish this long agony

In which so long I groan,

And render Thy poor handmaid help,

Who craves for Thee alone!

Let me be happy: shatter Thou

The chains in which I lie

And give me grace to see Thy face,

And then to die!

But no! not so, beloved Lord!

My pain is the just meed

Whereby I expiate my sins

And many an evil deed!

My groans and tears plead in Thine ears

And for Thy mercy sigh!

Oh grant me grace to see Thy face,

And seeing — die!

Poems

Poem 5.: Self-Surrender.

Dichoso el corazon enamorado.

How blessed is the heart with love fast bound

On God, the centre of its every thought!

Renouncing all created things as naught,

In Him its glory and its joy are found.

Even from self its cares are now set free;

Towards God alone its aims, its actions tend —

Joyful and swift it journeys to its end

O'er the wild waves of life's tempestuous sea!

Poems

Poem 6.: Divine Beauty.

! O hermosura que excedeis!

O Beauty, that doth far transcend

All other beauty! Thou doest deign,

Without a wound, our hearts to pain —

Without a pang, our wills to bend

To hold all love for creatures vain.

O mystic love-knot, that dost bind

Two beings of such diverse kind!

How canst Thou, then, e'er severed be?

For bound, such strength we gain from Thee,

We take for joys the griefs we find!

Things void of being linked, unite

With that great Beauty Infinite:

Thou fill'st my soul, which hungers still:

Thou lov'st where men can find but ill:

Our naught grows precious by Thy might!

Poems

Poem 7.: The Compact

Ya toda me entregue y di.

Now am I wholly yielded up, foregone,

And this the pact I made,

That the Beloved should be all mine own,

I His alone!

Struck by the gentle Hunter

And overthrown,

Within the arms of Love

My soul lay prone.

Raised to new life at last

This contract 'tween us passed,

That the Beloved should be all mine own,

I His alone!

With lance embarbed with love

He took His aim —

One with its Maker hence

My soul became.

No love but His I crave

Since self to Him I gave,

For the Beloved is mine own,

I His alone!

Poems

Poem 8. : On The Transverberation Of The Saint'S Heart.

En las internas entranas.

Within my heart a stab I felt —

A sudden stab, expecting naught;

Beneath God's standard was it dealt

For goodly were the deeds it wrought.

And though the lance hath wounded me,

And though the wound be unto death,

Surpassing far all other pain,

Yet doth new life therefrom draw breath!

How doth a mortal wound give life?

How, while life-giving, yet doth slay?

I low heal while wounding, leaving thee

United to thy God alway?

Celestial was that hand, and though

With peril dire the fray was fraught,

It came forth victor o'er the lance

And goodly were deeds it wrought.

Poems

Poem 9.: Aspirations.

Si el amor que me teneis.

If Thy love bear

Resemblance, O my God, to mine for Thee,

Reveal what is it that doth hinder me,

What keeps me here?

What cravest thou, O heart?

Naught, O my God, but to behold Thee near!

What is the thing that thou dost chiefly fear?

To dwell from Thee apart!

Of love I'm fain,

That Thou mayst take possession of my breast

To be a fitting home for Thee, a nest

Thee to contain.

Hid in its God,

What other blessing can the soul desire

Except to love Thee more,

And ever daily learn, with love afire,

Love's deeper lore?

Poems

Poem 10. : Soul, Thou Must Seek Thyself In Me, And Seek For Me In Thee."

Alma, buscarte has en mi.

Such is the power of love, O soul,

To paint thee in My heart,

No craftsman with such art,

Whate'er his skill might be, could there

Thine image thus impart!

'Twas love that gave thee life:

Then, Fairest, if thou be

Lost to thyself, thou 'It see

Thy portrait in My bosom stamped:

Soul, seek thyself in Me!

Wouldst find thy form within My heart

If there thou madest quest,

And with such life invest,

Thou wouldst rejoice to find thee thus

Engraven in My breast.

Or if, perchance, art ignorant

Where thou mayst light on Me,

Wander not wide and free,

Soul, if My presence wouldst attain,

Seek in thyself for Me!

Because in thee I find My house of rest,

My dwelling-place, My home,

Where at all hours I come

And knock at the closed portal of thy thoughts

When far abroad they roam.

No need is there to look for Me without,

Nor far in search to flee;

Promptly I come to thee;

If thou but call to Me it doth suffice —

Seek in thyself for Me!

Poems

Poem 11.: The Dying Saint To Her Crucifix.

Soberano Esposo mio.

Thou my sovereign Spouse! To Thee

I come. Ah, grant me to attain,

Nor let me wander far in vain,

That in the depths of Thy vast sea

This streamlet may its end obtain!

O gentle Spouse! Aid with Thy grace,

And with the palm my soul invest

That's due to love's subservient quest,

That in its Bridegroom's fond embrace

My soul may find its perfect rest!

Thine arms for me will vic'try get,

Nor to entreat such boon I shrink,

Knowing that Thou wilt never think

How little Thou dost owe— and yet

How deeply I am in Thy debt!

Lord, by Thy nuptial contract bide,

Detach my soul from alien ties

And make it sure of Paradise,

Since Thou with arms outstretched wide

Art waiting to receive Thy bride.

Since Thou dost thus Thine arms extend

I'll give my soul to be their prey,

And while Thou drawest it away,

Thine eyes, my Christ, upon me bend,

Whose soul dost from my body rend!

While I to Thee my soul confide,

Let Thy five wounds my comfort be

To which my soul finds

For they as heaven's portals bide

Which, for my sake, were opened wide.

Thy guests are of such noble sort

I know not if my lowly state

Gives entrance, so beside the gate,

A lowly woman, do I wait,

Apart from those that form Thy court!

My life in such a sort is led,

Obedient to the laws Love made,

That all my hopes on Thee are stayed,

While hangs to plead in my poor stead

This Agnus Dei by my bed.

Care not that I am indigent,

But look upon my soul as Thine,

And say if certain hope be mine!

Ah yes! I see Thy head is bent

To bow me token of assent!

At length the time has come to see

How far our love doth lead in truth,

And if we love in very sooth,

For now I come to shelter me

Beneath the branches of this tree.

Since this is so, my Spouse, my King!

Though surging tumult round me rage

Let Thy command my dread assuage,

While to these wood cross-bars I cling,

That He they hold defence may bring!

I do not fear the anguish rife

In that last parting's bitter sting

If unto Thee, my Christ, I cling,

For in that hour of final strife

I hold within my clasped hands — Life.

For if I clasp Thee, Lord, behold

Then doth our mutual delight

My soul with Thee, O Christ, unite,

Since God within mine arms I hold

Who in His arms doth me enfold!

Poems

Poem 12.: Nuns Of Carmel.

Caminemos para el cielo.

Let us e'er journey on to heaven,

Ye nuns of Carmel!

Let us be ever mortified,

Of humble heart though the world gibe,

All comfort and delight denied,

As nuns of Carmel.

By vow we promised to obey

Nor let our wills assert their sway:

Be this our aim, be this our stay,

We nuns of Carmel!

The path of poverty we plod,

For 'tis the road to earth He trod

When from the heavens came our God,

O nuns of Carmel!

For God's love waneth not at all,

He to our souls doth ever call;

Follow we Him nor fear to fall,

O nuns of Carmel!

Strive to attain that blessed shore

Where we shall suffer nevermore

From poverty nor anguish sore,

We nuns of Carmel!

Elias' pattern hath imbued

Our courage for self-combat rude

With burning zeal and fortitude,

As nuns of Carmel.

Thus, while we from self-love abstain,

The prize Eliseus did obtain,

The two-fold spirit, may we gain,

We nuns of Carmel!

Poems

Poem 13.: The Wise Virgin. Written For The Veiling Of Sister Isabel Of The Angels.

Hermana, por que veleis.

To bid thee, sister, keep strict watch and ward,

We, on this morn, bestowed this veil on thee,

For heaven itself 'twill win thee in reward —

Then watchful be!

Sister, the graceful veil we gave to thee

Doth warn thee to keep steadfast watch and ward

And faithfully to tend thy virgin-lamp,

Until the hour the Bridegroom comes, — thy Lord ,

For sudden, like some far-famed bandit, He

Comes unawares, when thou dost least foresee —

Then watchful be!

For none doth know nor can His hour decree —

For whether in the first hour of the night

It comes, or lingers till the next or third,

No Christian soul there is divines aright.

Then watch., my sister, watch, lest by surprise

Thou shouldst be plundered of thy lawful prize!

Oh, watchful be!

Ever, O sister, in thy vigil, see

Thou hold'st a burning lamp within thy hand,

Wearing thy veil while thou dost mount on guard:

Constant, with reins fast girded, shalt thou stand!

ire lest thou by slumber be undone

yet thy pilgrim-course be wholly run —

But watchful be!

Then take a vial with thee: kept ever tilled

With oil of works, and merits thou hast won,

As fuel to provide thy virgin lamp

it the flame perish ere thy vigil's done,

Since thou wouldst have to seek it from afar

If empty were the vase that thou didst bear —

So watchful be!

For there are none would lend the oil to thee,

And if thou shouldst depart to purchase more

Thou might return too late. If once the Spouse

Has come and passed within the bridal door,

And they by His behest the portal lock,

Ne'er will it open more to cry or knock —

Then watchful be!

So keep thou sentinel, I counsel thee,

And let thy threefold promise made this morn

Be kept with manful courage faithfully,

As thou on thy profession day hast sworn.

Thus, if on earth in vigil thou dost wake,

Shalt with the Bridegroom joyful entrance make —

Sister, I charge thee, ever watchful be!

Poems

Poem 14. : The Refrain Of A Song For A Clothing.

I Quien os trajo aca, doncella?

Maiden, who was it brought you here

From out the vale of misery?

— God and my happy destiny!

Poems

Poem 15.: The Holocaust.

WRITTEN FOR THE PROFESSION OF SISTER ISABEL OF THE ANGELS.

Sea mi gozo en el llanto.

Henceforth I'll joy in wretchedness,

Let startling fears be my repose,

And reaping solace from my woes

Take losses for my sole success!

May tempests fierce assault my love;

My feast be wounds I won in strife

And death become for me my life;

Contempt to me true honour prove!

My riches lie in poverty,

My triumph from my wars I wrest

And weary toil doth make my rest,

The while content in grief doth lie!

Obscurity shall be my light!

Exalted when I'm most abased,

My pathway by the cross is traced,

Wherein I glory and delight.

In base estate mine honour shows;

I bear the palm to suffering due,

While from decay I spring anew

And profit from my losses grows

With hunger am I satiate,

I hope in apprehension drear;

My consolation comes from fear

And sweetness doth with bitter mate!

Oblivion keeps my memory;

I higher rise when beaten down,

And in contempt my fame I own,

While insults gain me victory.

Dishonour weaves my laurel crown;

I strive to win the prize of pain —

The meanest place, that all disdain,

Brings me retirement and renown!

My trust in Christ hath no alloy;

In Him alone I find my peace

Whose lassitudes my strength increase,

And Whom to imitate I joy!

On this support do I rely,

Wherein I find security,

The proof of mine integrity,

The seal that stamps my constancy!

Poems

Poem 16.: The Bride Of Christ.

A PROFESSION SONG

! Oh que bien tan sin segundo!

Oh, matchless good!

Betrothal that with sanctity endows!

To-day the King of Majesty supreme

Became thy Spouse!

Oh, truly blest

The fate for thee by Providence decreed!

Chosen as His beloved by thy God

Who for thy ransom on the cross did bleed!

Whom serve with fortitude as thou didst pledge

In thy profession vows,

Because the King of Majesty supreme

Is now thy Spouse!

Rich are the gems

The Bridegroom, Lord of earth and sky will give

Of joys and consolation of His grace

Thy Lover never will thy soul deprive.

As richest gift of all, will He bestow

A humble heart and meek —

As King He can do all He will, and thee

As bride did seek!

He will infuse

For Him so holy and so pure a love,

That I protest, thou mayest from thy heart

All fear of every earthly thing remove,

And still more mayst thou scorn the fiend, for bound

In fetters must he stay,

Because the King of Majesty became

Thy Spouse to-day!

Poems

Poem 17.: The Shepherd'S Bridals.

A PROFESSION SONG

!Oh! dichosa la zagala!

Blest shepherdess! How high her gain

Who to that Shepherd plights her troth

Who reigns and evermore shall reign!

How blest her lot, whom fate doth wed,

To such a Spouse of goodly race!

My faith, good Gil! I stand abashed,

Nor dare to gaze upon her face

Since she this Bridegroom doth obtain,

Who reigneth, and Who e'er shall reign!

Forsooth, what did she give, to make

That Shepherd take her to His cot?

Her heart she gave Him for His own —

Aye, 'twas with right goodwill, I wot,

For comely is that Shepherd Swain

Who reigns, and ever more shall reign!

If more she had, more would she give,

So hie thee to her, boy, and take

This basket full, that she may choose

What gifts she to her Love will make,

Now she this Husband doth obtain

Who reigneth, and Who e'er will reign.

The damsel's dowry have we seen,

But what the gifts the Shepherd brought?

He won her with His own blood-shed!

Oh! at what ransom high she's bought!

Blissful all other brides above

The shepherdess that wins such love!

How deeply must that Bridegroom love

To do such kindness to His bride!

Faith! dost thou know He gave her gown,

Her sandals and all else beside?

These did she from her Bridegroom gain

Who reigneth and Who e'er will reign!

Forsooth, good Gil, 'twere well we hired

That shepherdess our flocks to tend;

Upon the hills, with merry cheer,

We'll win her for our right good friend,

Since she this Bridegroom doth obtain

Who reigns and evermore shall reign!

Poems

Poem 18.: The Cloister.

A PROFESSION SONG

Pues que nuestro Esposo.

Since Christ our Bridegroom doth desire

That we, His brides, a prison share,

Right gladly to the feast we throng,

The while religion's yoke we bear!

Oh, blessed is the wedding day

That Christ doth for His brides prepare,

Who all are by His heart beloved,

Who all His light and guidance share!

To follow where the cross doth lead

With high perfection be our care.

As gladly to the feast we throng,

The while religion's yoke we bear.

This state, above all other states,

Is that by which our God doth choose

Whereby He from the galling bonds

That sin hath forged, His brides doth loose.

Jesus doth plight His faith that He

Solace to all such souls will give,

Who ever with a joyful heart

Within this prison steadfast live.

High the reward we shall receive

Within the realm of perfect bliss

If for the treasures kept by Christ

The baubles of the world we miss,

While earth's deceptions and base dross

We for our Bridegroom's sake dismiss,

And joyful to the feast we fare

The while religion's yoke we bear.

For oh! what blessed freedom lies

Contained in such captivity —

A life of perfect happiness

Secure for all eternity!

My heart its fetters doth embrace,

Nor seeks to win its liberty.

So eager to the feast we'll fare,

The while religion's yoke we bear!

Poems

Poem 19.: The Standard Of The Holy Cross.

A PROFESSION SONG

Todos los que militais.

All ye who fight and fear no loss

Beneath the standard of the cross,

Sleep no more nor slumber now, —

God abides not here below!

Like a gallant warrior brave

God our Lord for death did crave:

Within His footsteps let us tread,

Since by our hands His blood was shed!

For oh! what precious gifts were bought

By that most bitter war He fought!

Sleep thou not nor slumber now —

God abides not here below!

He for us with joy did languish,

Freely bore the cross's anguish,

Died to bring us sinners light

By His own most piteous plight!

Oh most glorious victory!

How great the spoils He won thereby!

Sleep thou not nor slumber now —

God abides not here below!

Draw not back in cowardice;

Tend thy life in sacrifice;

None so sure his life of saving

As the loss of it when braving.

Jesus will our Leader be,

Our Reward in victory:

Sleep no more nor slumber now,

For God abides not here below!

Let our lives in death's libation

Be to Christ a true oblation,

Thus to heaven's bridals blest

Each will come as welcome guest.

Follow, by this standard led!

Within Christ's track and footsteps tread!

Oh, sleep no more nor slumber now!

Our God abides not here below!

Poems

Poem 20. : Greeting To The Cross.

Cruz, descanso sabroso de mi vida.

Cross, thou delicious solace of my life,

I welcome thee!

O standard, 'neath whose sign, the worst

Of cowards must be brave!

O thou our life, who erst our death

Didst raise from out the grave!

Thy strength the lion didst subdue,

For 'twas thy power the foe that slew, —

Welcome! all hail!

Who loves thee not, lives prisoner,

'Gainst liberty doth fight!

Who seeks within thy track to tread,

Ne'er wanders from the right.

Blest be the power that thou dost own

Which hath the power of ill o'erthrown!

Welcome, all hail!

'Twas thou didst bring deliverance

To us in bondage lost

'Twas thou the ill that didst redeem,

Paid at so dear a cost.

For thou, with God, wast instrument

Of joy by . . .

Welcome! all hail!

[Note: The original is incomplete. ]

Poems

Poem 21. : Processional For The Feast Of The Holy Cross.

En la cruz esta la vida.

The Cross contains our life

And our sole solace:

Therein doth lie the only road that leadeth

To Paradise!

Upon the Cross is found the Lord

Of earth and heaven,

And perfect joy of peace profound

(Though war be waging

From all the ills this mortal exile holds)

Lies in its limits,

And by the Cross alone it is we wend

Our way to heaven.

'Twas of the Cross the Bride declared

To her Beloved

That it was like the stately palm

Which she had mounted.

The very God of heaven Himself

Its fruit hath tasted,

And by the Cross alone we wend our way

And march to heaven.

'Tis like a tree of leafy-green —

The Bride's delection,

Who sat her down to rest herself

Beneath its shadow,

That she might joy in her Beloved,

The King of glory —

And by its means alone we wend

Our way to heaven.

In sight like to a precious olive

The holy Cross

With its blest oil of unction doth anoint

And doth illumine.

Then, O my soul, embrace the Cross with

Joy and gladness,

For 'tis the only road whereby

We reach to heaven!

The soul which to its God hath been

Abandoned wholly,

Being within its heart of hearts detached

From all things earthly,

Finds in the Cross the Tree of Life

And of all comfort,

And a delightsome path whereby

It wends to heaven.

For since upon the Cross the Saviour

Hath freely rested,

It hath become the source of glory

And of honour.

In suffering it becomes our life,

Our consolation,

And 'tis the safest way whereby

To wend to heaven.

Then let us journey on to Paradise,

Ye Nuns of Carmel;

Let us with eagerness embrace the Cross

And follow Jesus.

For 'tis our way, our light whereby to guide us,

Which in itself contains all consolation,

O Nuns of Carmel!

If dearer than the apple of your eye you keep

Your three-fold pledges,

'Twill from a thousand grievous ills exempt you

Of trials and afflictions that beset us,

We Nuns of Carmel!

The vow you promised of obedience

Although it be of very lofty science,

Ne'er will permit you to do any evil

If ye resist it not — from which

May the great God of heaven e'er preserve you,

Ye Nuns of Carmel!

The vow of chastity

Observe with the most watchful vigilance:

Seek God alone,

And keep yourselves in solitude with Him,

Regardless of the world

O Nuns of Carmel!

What men call poverty,

If in entirety kept when it is vowed

Contains great riches,

And opes the gate of heaven to our coming,

O Nuns of Carmel!

If these we practise

We shall win victory in all our combats,

And in the end shall rest

With Him Who hath created earth and heaven,

We Nuns of Carmel!

Poems

Poem 22.: The Lamb Of God.

A shepherd's carol.

!Ah! pastores que velais.

Ah, Shepherds, watching by the fold

Your flocks upon the sward,

To-night is born to you a Lamb,

Son of the sovereign Lord!

He cometh poor, of mean estate;

Guard Him without delay,

Or e'er ye joy in Him, a wolf

Will steal the Lamb away. —

Reach me my crook, Gil — from my hand

I will not let it fall:

No wolf shall steal that Lamb, I vow! —

Know, He is Lord of all!

— Well may you think that I am dazed

Betwixt my joy and pain,

For if this new-born Babe be God,

Can He indeed be slain?

— He Who is man as well as God

Can choose to live or die;

Bethink thee, 'tis the Lamb indeed,

The Son of God most high!

I know not how men beg Him come,

Then wage on Him such war:

Should He restore us to His land,

Sure, Gil, 'twere better far!

— Sin caused our exile here, and in

His hands all good doth lie!

He comes to suffer here on earth,

This God of majesty.

Little thou carest for His pain!

'Tis so with all mankind:

Men reck not of their neighbour's ill

Wherein they profit find.

— As Pastor of a mighty flock

Great honour doth He gain.

— Still, 'tis a wondrous thing that God,

The Lord supreme, be slain!

Poems

Poem 23.: The Angels' Summons To The Shepherds.

Mi gallejo, mira quien llama.

See, boy, who doth call so clear!

— Angels, for the Dawn draws near.

Hark! a sound of mighty humming,

Which, methinks, a song may be:

Then hie thee to the Shepherdess,

Now the morn breaks, Bras, with me.

See, boy, who doth call so clear!

Angels, for the Dawn is near.

Is she kin to the Alcalde?

What the damsel's name and race?

— She is God the Father's daughter;

Shineth like a star her face!

Look, boy, who doth call so clear!

Angels, for the Dawn is near!

Poems

Poem 24. : The Shepherds At The Crib.

Pues el amor. Mihi autem absit gloriari nisi in Cruce Domini nostri.

Since love brought God to earth

From heaven on high

Naught should affright us more:

Let us both die!

God gives His only Son

As gift to man:

Born in a cattle-shed

His life began.

Lo, God a man becomes,

Triumph most high!

Naught should affright us more

Let us both die!

— Whence the love, Pascual,

For us He bore,

Changing His royal robes

For serge so poor?

— Best loves He poverty;

In His steps hie!

Naught should affright us more

Let us both die!

What will men give to Him,

Giver of all?

— Stripes from their scourges on

His flesh will fall.

Bitter our tears will drop

With grief and sigh!

— If this be sooth indeed,

Let us both die!

He is omnipotent —

How shall they dare?

— Tis writ, from cruel men

He death must bear.

— Let us conceal the Babe

In secrecy!

— Know'st not 'tis His own will?

— Then, let us die!

Poems

Poem 25. : Christmas Day.

Shepherds' carol.

Hoy nos viene a redimir.

To-day there comes upon our ransom bent

A Shepherd Who is kith to all mankind,

For, Gil, He is our God omnipotent!

And thus it is that He has raised us up,

Freed from the prison Satan held us in,

For He, to Menga and to Llorente,

And Bras, and all of us is truly kin,

Because He is the Lord omnipotent!

— If He be God: how to be sold by men

And hanging on the bitter cross, be slain?

— Dost thou not know that sin is done to death

When Innocence endures the sinners' pain?

Dost thou not know He is omnipotent?

— My faith! I saw Him as a new-born Babe,

And near Him stood a lovely Shepherdess!

If He be God, why chooseth He to live

With those in poverty and sore distress?

— Knowest thou not He is omnipotent?

Prithee, give o'er thine idle questionings

And let us in His service ever vie;

Since He has come on earth to suffer death,

With Him, Llorente, let us gladly die,

For He, in truth, is God omnipotent.

Poems

Poem 26. : The Shepherds' Carol For The Circumcision.

Vertiendo esta sangre.

See, He is shedding blood.

Dominguillo, eh?

Though why I cannot say!

I prithee tell- me why

The Infant thus they wound,

For He is innocent,

No guile in Him is found —

His Heart was wholly set,

Though why I cannot say,

On ardent love for me!

Dominguillo, eh?

But must men pain the Babe

Thus soon after His birth?

— Aye, for He comes to die,

To save from ills our earth.

Faith, what a shepherd brave

That Child will make some day!

Shall we not love Him well,

Dominguillo, eh?

Shepherd, I know not why

On Babe so innocent

Thou hast not cared to look?

— Aye, Brasil and Llorent,

Have told me so erstwhile.

— My faith! 'twere ill, I say,

Didst thou not love this Babe,

Dominguillo, eh?

Poems

Poem 27.: Shepherds' Carol For The Circumcision.

Este Nino viene llorando.

E'en as the Babe comes, He is weeping sorely:

Oh hark, Gil, hark! that Babe is calling thee!

Behold the new-born Infant from the heavens

To earth descends to free us from our foes!

Already is the direful strife beginning,

For see, our Jesus' blood already flows!

Oh hark, Gil, hark, that Babe is calling thee!

So great the love He beareth for us sinners

That little for the tears He sheds recks He,

Steeling His infant heart to muster courage

Since He the Leader of His flock shall be —

Then hark, Gil, hark, that Babe doth call to thee!

How dear the love He bears for us doth cost Him,

This Infant but a few days newly born,

Whose blood already 'neath the knife is flowing! —

Forsooth, 'tis we and not the Babe should mourn!

Oh hearken, Gil, that Babe is calling thee!

Had He not come to earth to die for sinners

He now were safe within His nest at home!

— Behold, Gil, to our earth from heaven descending

The Babe doth as a roaring lion come:

Oh hark ye, Gil, the Babe is calling tin

What is it, Pascal, thou art seeking of me

That ever in mine ear thy tale is told?

— To love this Babe Who loves thee, and doth tremble

For thy sake, 'neath the bitter wintry cold:

For hark thee, Gil, the Babe doth call to thee!

Poems

Poem 28.: The Shepherd And The Three Kings.

A CAROL FOR THE EPIPHANY.

Pues que la estrella.

Since now the star above

The crib doth shine,

Prithee wend with the Kings,

Good flock of mine!

To see Messias there

We'll take our way,

Now are fulfilled the things

The prophets say:

For in our days, to earth

Doth God descend;

There, with the Kings, my sheep,

I prithee wend.

Gifts let us bring to Him

Of costly store,

Whom the Kings fervently

Seek to adore.

Lo, our great Shepherdess

With joy doth shine!

Prithee wend with the Kings,

O flock of mine!

Question not, Llorente,

The reason why

We hold this Babe as God

Come from on high.

Yield Him thy heart, as mine

To Him I tend —

Hence, with the Kings, my flock,

I prithee wend!

Poems

Poem 29.: A Poem To St. Andrew.

Si el padecer con amor.

If suffering endured with love upon our part

Can so inspire with joy the stricken heart,

What transport will the sight of Thee impart!

What will it be at length to look upon

Th' eternal Majesty,

Since Andrew, when he gazed upon the cross,

Was filled with ecstasy!

Nor even while we suffer, can we fail

To win fruition of the bliss we hail —

What joy to see Thee!

Love that to full intensity hath grown

Rests not in idleness,

As the brave warrior, for the one he loves,

Doth on to combat press,

And having o'er Love's self the victory gained,

Needs must all ends it strives for be attained —

Oh, bliss to see Thee!

Since all men hold in fear the thought of death,

Why is it sweet to thee?

— Tis that when death shall strike, new life shall rise

Of high sublimity.

Thou, my God, by Thine Own death doth make

The worst of cowards take courage for Thy sake —

What joy to see Thee!

cross, now the most precious tree of all!

Thou most majestic wood,

Who, being held contemptible and mean

Didst take for Spouse thy God!

I go to meet thee, jubilant of soul,

And, though I merit not to crave such dole,

I joy to see thee!

Poems

Poem 30.: To Saint Catherine The Martyr.

! O granie amadora!

O fervent votaress

Of the eternal Lord!

Resplendent star! do thou

Thine aid afford!

E'en in her infancy

A Spouse she chose;

Ne'er did her ardent love

Grant her repose.

Then let no cowards seek

Her company,

Who love the world and fear

For God to die!

Ye cravens, gaze upon

This maiden fair,

Who cared naught for her wealth

Nor beauty rare.

In persecution fierce

She bore her part,

Enduring torments keen

With virile heart!

The absence of her Love

Caused her far deeper grief,

And suffering borne for Him

Was all that gave relief;

She craved for death, and pain

Alone could comfort give,

Since, while on earth she dwelt,

She could not truly live.

Let us who long

To share a fate so blest

Ne'er labour here

In vain, to seek for rest.

Oh, false deceit!

How loveless 'tis to sigh

For healing here

Where life is misery!

Poems

Poem 31.: Saint Hilarion.

Hoy ha vencido un guerrero.

This captain 'gainst the world and its allies

The way to victory led, —

Sinners, return, return ye, and within

His footsteps tread!

Seek solitude,

Nor let us crave to die

Till we attain to live

In perfect poverty.

With skill supreme, the way

This chieftain led, —

Sinners, return, return ye, and within

His footsteps tread!

He conquered Lucifer

With penance' arms,

With patience fought and now is free

From all alarms.

We also shall prevail, if by

This captain led,

Sinners, return, return again, and in

His footsteps tread!

He had no friends

But to the cross he clave:

This is our light, which Christ as light

To sinners gave.

Oh, blessed zeal that stood

The warrior in such stead, —

Sinners, return, return ye, and within

His footsteps tread!

His crown is won — no more

In grief he sighs,

But joys in the reward

Of Paradise.

Oh, glorious victory

In which our soldier bled!

Sinners, return, oh turn again, and in

His footsteps tread!

Poems

Poem 32. : Rhymed Maxims.

When God doth the soul chastise

Heavy are its penalties,

Yet beneath the clouds that rise

Purer shine the sunny skies!

Who on this world sets his mind

Ne'er will true contentment find.

He who sets on God his stay

Knows not anguish of dismay.

He who doth self-judgment blind

Quickly calms his troubled mind.

Naught doth greater solace give

Than without desires to live.

Bitter burden do we bear

When for aught on earth we care.

The cross, when borne with ready will,

Far lighter weighs than many an ill.

Seeking for naught,

Life with joy is fraught.

Best of disciplines is still

Discipline of thy self-will.

Let what comes, whate'er may hap,

Ever serve to profit thee:

Great thy profit if dost judge

Everything is bad in thee!

Let naught disturb thy peace

Which will with this world cease.

To the soul that can endure

Any life will easy seem;

Any life a living death

The impatient soul will deem.

A love for God but not the cross,

Will put its hand to little work:

A love that's strong and full of zeal

Doth neither toil nor trouble shirk.

What though many faults be thine?

Mortified, they'll soon decline!

He who seeks no private gain

Always finds things to his mind:

He who would his comfort find

E'er sees reason to complain.

Mortification

Brings grief alleviation.

When for earthly things I sigh,

Then, although I live, I die!

If thou a happy nun wouldst be,

Let no one know thy pains but thee!

Poems

Poem 33.: Saint Teresa'S Bookmark.

Nada te turbe.

Let naught disturb thee;

Naught fright thee ever;

All things are passing;

God changeth never.

Patience e'er conquers;

With God for thine own

Thou nothing dost lack —

He sufftceth alone!

Poems

Poem 34.: The Soul'S Detachment.

Lleva el pensamiento.

Keep thy thought and ev'ry wish

Ever raised to heaven on high;

Let no trouble thee oppress,

Naught destroy tranquillity.

Follow with a valiant heart

Jesus, in the narrow way;

Come what will, whate'er thy trials,

Let naught ever thee dismay.

All the glory of this world

Is but vain and empty show;

Swiftly all things pass away,

Naught is stable here below.

Be thy sole desire to win

Good divine that never wanes;

True and rich in promises,

God our Lord unchanged remains.

Love what best deserves thy love —

Goodness, Bounty infinite —

Lacking patience, love can ne'er

Reach full purity and height.

Confidence and living faith

In the strife the soul maintain;

He who hopes and who believes

All things in the end shall gain.

Though the wrath of hell aroused

Hard the hunted soul besets,

He who to his God adheres

Mocks at all the devil's threats.

Though disgrace and crosses come,

Though his plans should end in naught,

He whose God his treasure is

Ne'er shall stand in need of aught.

Go, false pleasures of the world!

Go, vain riches that entice!

Though the soul should forfeit all,

God alone would all-suffice!

Poems

Poem 35. : Sonnet To Jesus Crucified.

No me mueve, mi Dios, para quererte.

I am not moved, my God, to love of Thee

Because Thou pledgest heaven in reward,

Nor is my soul by fear of death so awed

As to be moved straightway from sin to flee.

Thou mov'st my love, my God! to see Thee hang

Nailed to the cross, of men the scoff, the scorn,

Doth move my love! Thy body scourged and torn,

Thy mocking and affronts, Thy dying pang!

It is Thy love that moves me in such way

That did no heaven exist, I'd love Thee still!

Dread of offence would still my spirit sway

Were there no hell — Thy gifts move not my will,

For though I hoped no guerdon in repay,

The same unaltered love my heart would fill!

Poems

Poem 36.: Before The Crucifix.

BY ISABEL OF JESUS.

O Thou all good and sweet,

Jesus of Nazareth,

Let me but look on Thee,

Then send me death!

Let those look who will

On rose and jasmine fair;

On Thee I gaze and see

A thousand gardens there.

Thou Flower all seraph-bright,

Jesus of Nazareth!

Let me but look on Thee,

Then send me death!

I seek no other joy —

My Jesus is not here!

All else torments the soul

That holds His Presence dear

Love and desire of Thee

Are of my life the breath;

Let me but look on Thee,

Then send me death!

A captive's fate is mine,

Whilst far Thou art from me;

Life is but living death,

I live not, save with Thee.

When will that day draw near

Which ends my exile here?

O Thou all good and sweet,

Jesus of Nazareth!

Let me but look on Thee,

Then send me death!

Poems

Prayer Of St. Teresa.

O my God! since Thou art charity and love itself, perfect
this virtue in me, that its ardour may consume all the dregs
of self-love. May I hold Thee as my sole Treasure and
my one glory, far dearer than all creatures. Make me love
myself in Thee, for Thee, and by Thee, and my neighbour,
for Thy sake, in the same manner, bearing his burdens as
I wish him to bear mine. Let me care for naught beside
Thee, except in so far as it will lead me to Thee. May I
rejoice in Thy perfect love for me, and in the eternal love
borne for Thee by the angels and saints in heaven, where
the veil is lifted and they see Thee face to face. Grant that
I may exult because the just, who know Thee by faith in
this life, count Thee as their highest good, the centre and
the end of their affections. I long that sinners and the
imperfect may do the same, and with the aid of Thy grace
I crave to help them.

Poems

Notes On The Poems.

Poem 1. — Copies of this poem, which is undoubtedly by
St. Teresa, are preserved in the collections of the convents
of Madrid and Guadalajara as well as in the transcriptions
prepared by Fray Andres de la Encarnacion (now at the
National Library at Madrid), who says in a note that " these
verses were sung by the venerable priest Julian of Avila,
the companion of the Saint upon her foundations, who often
stated that they were composed by her." Fuente, Obras,
(edit, of 1881), vol. iii. Poem 27.

Poem 2. — This poem, known as the " Gloss " of St. Teresa,
is the most famous of her verses. It was written at Salamanca in 1571, as related by Sister Isabel of Jesus in her
deposition in the process of canonisation: " When I was a
novice I sang one day during recreation some verses [see
Poem 36] describing the grief felt by the soul at its separation
from God. During the singing our Mother went into an
ecstasy in the presence of the nuns. They waited for a time,
but as she did not come to herself, three or four carried her,
looking as if she were dead, into her cell. I do not know
what passed there, but when I saw her come out of it next
day after dinner, she seemed quite absorbed and beside herself.
By comparing the day and hour with what she wrote later
on, we discovered that during this rapture our Lord had
bestowed upon her some signal favour. The Saint then wrote
this poem, which she enclosed in a letter sent to her confessor."
Yepes, Life, bk. iii. ch. xxii.; Relation iv. 1; Interior Castle,
M. vi. ch. xi, 8; Concept, ch. vii. 2; Exclam. i. vi. xiv.
xvi.; Fuente, I.e., Poem 1.

The last five verses of this poem, preceded by two which
differ from St. Teresa's, are classed as an original poem
of St. John of the Cross (Living Flame of Love, edit. 1912,
p. 264), who, referring to this subject, says: " The third kind
of pain — of a soul wounded by love — is like dying; it is
as if the whole soul were festering because of its wound. It
is dying a living death until love, having slain it, shall make
it live the life of love, transforming it into love. . . . Hence
the soul is dying of love, and dying the more when it sees
that it cannot die of love. Perceiving itself to be dying of
love and yet not dying so as to have the free enjoyment
of its love, it complains of the continuance of its bodily life,
by which the spiritual life is delayed " (Spiritual Canticle,
Stanza vii. 4, and viii. 1).

Poem 3. — Another version of the same poem, Fuente, I.e.,
2. The first and fourth verses vary, but the second and
third are to be found in the preceding poem. This version
was printed in the early editions of the works of the Saint;
in 1884 Don Antonio Selfa published at Madrid a facsimile
of the autograph, but as there are some differences of spelling
its genuineness has been questioned.

Poem 4. — This, too, was published by Don Antonio Selfa
from what purports to be an autograph. It is not in Don
Vicente's edition.

Poem 5. — Fuente was the first to print this short piece
(No. 10 in his edition) from the manuscript of Toledo. The
second Exclamation speaks of seeking solitude in God and
with Him, for thus alone can life be borne, because " the soul
rests with Him Who is its true repose." This idea is more
finely and concisely expressed in these verses.

Poem 6. — These verses are contained in the letters written
by the Saint to her brother Don Lorenzo de Cepeda on
January 2 and 17, 1577, as follows:

" I remember some verses I once wrote when immersed
in prayer and in a state of great repose. They ran thus —
though I am not sure if I remember them rightly — yet they
will show you that even when I am at Toledo I wish to give
you pleasure: [here follow the verses]; — I can recollect no
more. ... I think that these verses may touch you and
kindle your devotion."

On January 17 she refers to the matter again:

" I hardly know what to say about the favour which you
told me that you have received. It is certainly far greater
than you think and will be the beginning of great things
unless forfeited by your own fault. I have experienced this
kind of prayer, which usually leaves the soul at peace and
sometimes inclined to do penance, particularly if the impulse
has been very strong, for then the soul cannot rest without
doing something for God. For this is a touch which gives
love to the soul: if it increases you will be able to understand
what you said puzzled you in my verses. It is a keen pain
and sorrow from an unknown source, yet most delicious.
To tell the truth, the soul here receives a wound from the
love of God, without perceiving whence or how it comes,
nor even that it is wounded, or what takes place, yet it
feels a delightful pain which makes it complain, crying:

"Thou dost deign

Without a wound our hearts to pain —

Without a pang our wills to bend,

To hold all love for creatures vain!

" For when the heart is truly touched with this love of God,
it weans itself painlessly from that it feels for creatures,
so that it is bound by no earthly affection. This cannot be
done without such a love for God, because if we care much
for any creatures we are grieved at withdrawing from them,
and we suffer far more if we have to leave them altogether.
When God takes possession of the soul He gradually gives it
the empire over all created things."

The poem was originally longer, but the continuation has
been lost. Fuente, I.e., No. 5.

Poem 7. — No. 6 in Fuente. These verses are from the
manuscript of Toledo. They are based on the words of the
Song of Solomon, Dilectus mens mihi et ego illi (Cant. ii. 16).

Poem 8 — Fuente, No. 26. Verses composed by St. Teresa
on the Transverberation of her heart (See Life, ch. xxix.
16-18). Fra Federigo di Sant' Antonio says in his Life of
the Saint (written in 1754) that the autograph had been
found at the Convent of Sevilla, but it is no longer there.
Interior Castle, M. vi. ch. xi. 2, 4, 8. Rel. viii. 16-19.

Poem 9. — This was first published by Fuente (No. 11) from
the manuscript of Toledo. He considers it doubtful.

Poem 10. — These verses are written on the words spoken by
our Lord: " Labour not to hold Me enclosed within thyself,
but enclose thyself in Me" (Relation iii. 9; see also Interior
Castle, M. iv. ch. iii. 1). Many years later Don Francis de
Salcedo, Julian of Avila, St. John of the Cross and Don
Lorenzo de Cepeda each wrote an essay on these words, and
at the command of the Bishop of Avila the Saint wrote her
letter of January 27, 1577 (known as the Vejamen, or trysting letter) in which she subjected their opinions to a somewhat satirical criticism. Don Fuente, who printed the poem
from the Toledo manuscript (No. 4 in his edition) qualifies
the poem as " probably " genuine; he might safely have
said " certainly authentic."

Poem 11. — We are indebted to the kindness of the French
Carmelite nuns for leave to make use of their edition of
this and three other poems, which had never been printed
(CBuvres completes de Sainte Terhse, Paris 1910, vol. vi. 363).
These verses to " the Christ," i.e. to a Crucifix, are from a
seventeenth-century manuscript in the National Library at
Madrid and bear the title: " Song (romance) written by
our holy Mother Teresa during the foundation of Soria."
They belong therefore to the summer of 1581; Fuente did
not know of this collection.

Poem 12. — These verses were composed by St. Teresa when
ill on a journey; copies are preserved at Soria and, with
slight variants, in the collections of Madrid and Guadalajara.
This poem strongly resembles the last few verses of the
Processional of the Holy Cross (Poem 20), written for the
nuns of Soria. Fuente, who first printed it (No. 25), considers it as probably authentic.

Poem 13. — " A gloss composed by our Holy Mother Teresa
of Jesus for the clothing of Sister Isabel of the Angels " at
Medina del Campo in September 1569. Fray Andres de
la Encarnacion states that in his time (c. 1750) the original
was in the possession of the Carmelite nuns of San Sebastian,
but according to Fray Manuel it had been in the hands
of Fray Jose de la Madre de Dios, Prior of Segovia. Several
old copies are still in existence. Fuente (No. 16) entertains
no doubt as to the authenticity.

Poem 14. — The refrain of this poem, composed for the
clothing of Sister Hieronyma of the Incarnation at Medina
del Campo, January 13, 1575, is all that remains of it; it
has been preserved by the author of the Reforma, vol. hi.
bk. xiii. ch. xxi. ---..-.

Poem 15. — Composed at Salamanca for the profession of
Sister Isabel of the Angels (October 21, 1571), for whose
clothing St. Teresa had written the verses supra No. 13.
Fray Andres was aware of the existence of copies at Segovia
and Las Batuecas, but was unable to consult them. They
have been discovered at the National Library at Madrid, and
we are indebted to the French nuns for permission to translate them from their edition (CEuvres, vi. 383).

Poem 16. — Fuente published these verses from the collection of Toledo (No. 14), qualifying them as probably genuine;
according to some copies they were written for the profession
of Sister Isabel of the Angels, but this can hardly be correct.

Poem 17. — Published by Fuente (No. 12, from the manuscript of Toledo), who, however, considers the poem as doubtful. The transcript is certainly incorrect.

Poem 18. — From the same collection and probably genuine
according to Don Vicente's opinion who prints it under No. 15.

Poem 19. — Probably authentic. Fuente published it from
the same collection under No. 13.

Poem 20. — These verses have come down to us through
a copy made by Sister Guiomarof the Blessed Sacrament, who
was professed at Salamanca in 1576, and who attested that
they were composed by St. Teresa. Copies were also kept
at Segovia and Las Batuecas and in the archives of the
Order at Madrid (now in the National Library). Fuente, who
first printed the poem from the last-named source (No. 28),
considers it as in all probability genuine. Some words in
the last strophe are missing.

Poem 21. — The original of this piece of poetry is preserved
at the Convent of Soria, and has been attested as genuine by
Fray Manuel of Jesus, General of the Spanish Congregation
of Discalced Carmelites. The concluding verses are almost
identical with Poem No. 12. Fuente has printed the text
in vol. vi. p. in, the copy having reached him too late for
insertion among the poems. He has added the following
explanatory note:

" There is a very old tradition that these verses were composed by the glorious Mother St. Teresa when she founded
the convent of the Blessed Trinity at Soria in 1581. They
were to be sung on the feast of the Exaltation of the Cross,
September 14, 1581, she herself having left for Segovia and
Avila a month previously. The verses are devout and
affecting, and ever since that time the nuns have sung them
on the said feast under the following circumstances. After
midday recreation they adjourn to an oratory where a
crucifix, candles and olive branches have been prepared.
Having first venerated the crucifix, the sisters intone the
hymn to a very devotional tune and, carrying the olive
boughs, go in procession through the cloister to the mortuary
chapel, where the hymn is concluded and is followed by a
prayer for the dead, whereupon the olive branches are
deposited on the sepulchre. The verses contain the farewell advice of the holy Mother, who, on taking leave of
the community said: ' Daughters, for the sake of my love
for you, I ask of you three things. First, to keep the primitive observance, secondly to obey your superiors, and thirdly
to preserve charity among yourselves. If you do this, I
promise that God will give you the twofold spirit as He
did to our Father S. Eliseus on whose feast this house was
founded.' "

Poem 22. — A portion of this poem is preserved in autograph at the Carmelite convent at Florence. Fuente, who
printed it from the manuscript of Toledo (in which a line is
missing), thinks it is probably genuine. It is No. 18 of his
edition.

Poem 23. — From the manuscript of Cuerva. Fuente gives
it under No. 22, but strongly doubts its genuineness.

Poem 24. — From the manuscript of Toledo. " Probably
genuine," says Fuente, in whose edition it is numbered 17.

Poem 25. — Printing this as No. 20 from the Toledo collection, Fuente strongly questions its authenticity, but the
discovery of the autograph of the first three strophes at the
convent of Carmelite nuns at Florence seems to dispose of
the difficulty.

Poem 26. — This poem is from a collection (now lost) of
which the manuscripts of Madrid, Guadalajara and Cuerva
are more or less faithful copies. In this instance they
present considerable variations and also some defects. Fuente
(No. 23) has serious doubts as to its authenticity.

Poem 27. — These verses are from the same manuscripts
as the preceding, and here again Fuente (No. 21) is inclined
to disallow a claim to authenticity. The French nuns quote
in their edition the following note from the manuscript of
Cuerva:

" Some more verses written by St. Teresa for the feast
of the Circumcision for which she had a special devotion. One
year, on the eve of that feast, while the nuns were at evening
recreation, she came out of her cell almost beside herself with
extraordinary fervour. Transported by her feelings, she
danced and sang, and bade the community to join her,
which they did with the greatest spiritual joy. Theirs was
no set and ordinary kind of dance, nor was it accompanied
by the guitar, but the dancers beat time by clapping their
hands, as David describes, Omnes gentes, plaudite manibus,
as they moved to and fro with more spiritual harmony and
grace than human art."

Poem 28. — Fuente (No. 19) was the first to publish this
from the collection of Toledo; it appears to him doubtful.

Poem 29. — First published by Fray Antonio of St. Joachim
in the Ano Teresiano, and afterwards by Fuente (No. 7, from
the Toledo manuscript), who declared it probably genuine.
The verses contain many allusions to the acts of St. Andrew
as given in the breviary, where it is said that when the Apostle
saw his cross at a distance, he cried out, " Hail, precious
cross, that has been consecrated by the body of my Lord,
and adorned with His limbs as with rich jewels! — I come to
thee, glad and exulting; receive me with joy into thine
arms! O good cross, that hast received beauty from our
Lord's limbs! I have ardently loved thee: long have I
desired and sought thee; now thou art found by me and
art made ready for my longing soul. Receive me into thine
arms, taking me from among men, and present me to thy
Master, that He who redeemed me on thee may receive me
by thee! " The Saint was fastened to the cross, on which
he hung for two days, preaching without cessation the faith
of Christ, after which he passed to Him Whose death he
had so coveted. Before dying, the Apostle exclaimed: " O
Lord Jesus Christ, good Master, suffer me not to be taken
down from the cross until Thou hast received my soul. For
Thou, O Christ, art my protector; into Thy hands I commend
my spirit."

Poem 30. — Fuente, who published these verses as No. 8
from the manuscript of Toledo, considers them probably
authentic. They there bear the incorrect motto Quemadmodum desiderat ad fontes aquarum, ita desiderat anitna mea.
St. Teresa had a great devotion to St. Catherine the Martyr,
to whom she dedicated a hermitage at Avila with a painting
of the Saint. According to the legend, Catherine saw in a
vision the Blessed Virgin ask Jesus to receive her among His
servants, but the Divine Infant turned away because she was
not yet a Christian. After baptism Catherine saw the same
vision, when Jesus received her with great affection, and
espoused her in sight of the court of heaven. Having resisted
the suit of the impious emperor Maximin II., she was put to
death by means of a wheel, and her body is said to have
been carried by angels to Mount Sinai, the Saint having
prayed that no man might see or touch her body after death.

Poem 31. — The verses in honour of St. Hilarion have in
the manuscript of Toledo the motto Fortitudo mea et laus
mea Dominus mihi. Fuente (No. 9) considers them as probably genuine. St. Teresa had a great devotion to this Saint,
who in the Carmelite breviary in use during her lifetime is
described as " our father." She relates (Life, ch. xxvii. 2)
how she used to recommend herself to him to be preserved
from the illusions of Satan. She also built a hermitage
in his honour in the convent of Avila. St. Hilarion, having
become a Christian, renounced the world at the age of ten
and lived for some time with St. Anthony. But finding that
the very desert became too distracting on account of the many
visitors and disciples of his master, he withdrew into a place
of deep solitude, where he lived in ever increasing austerity.
He repelled the assaults of the devil by the sign of the cross.
At his death, which occurred at the age of eighty years, he
thus encouraged himself: "Go forth, what dost thou fear?
Go forth, my soul, what dost thou dread? Behold it is
now three score and ten years that thou hast served Christ,
and art thou afraid of death? " He had scarcely finished
these words when he expired.

Poem 32. — Fuente published these Maxims (from a manuscript in the National Library at Madrid) in his first edition
of the works of St. Teresa (Madrid, 1861), but not in the
second. Their authenticity is doubtful.

Poem 33. — These verses, which have become widely known,
were written by St. Teresa at an unknown date, and were
kept by her as a bookmark in one of her breviaries which
afterwards became the property of the Carmelite friars at
Lisbon; its present whereabouts is not known.

Poem 34. — This poem, for the Spanish text of which we
are indebted to the French Carmelite nuns who published it
for the first time, is kept at the Convent of Segovia. It is
an enlargement of the " Bookmark," but the probability of
its genuineness is extremely slender.

Poem 35. — This poem has been claimed for St. Teresa,
St. Francis Xavier and other authors. It would appear that,
among contemporary critics, Don Francisco Herrero y Bayona
is inclined to allow St. Teresa's claim, but Don Vicente de la
Fuente, Don Marcelino Men6ndez y Pelayo, and many others,
are of a different opinion, which is also shared by the French
nuns.

Poem 36. — These are the verses sung by Sister Isabel of
Jesus at Salamanca which caused St. Teresa to go into an
ecstasy (see note to Poem 2 supra, and the references there
given). They are well known in Spain and have been repeatedly printed, among others by Don Miguel Mir and Don
Vicente de la Fuente.

Prayer of St. Teresa. — The autograph of this prayer is
in the possession of the Carmelite nuns of Madrid. It is
written upon an oblong sheet of paper from which the signature at the bottom appears to have been cut off. It was
published in a French translation as early as 1630, but the
Spanish text was for the first time printed by Fuente.

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation I.

WRITTEN BY THE HOLY MOTHER TERESA OF JESUS ON DIFFERENT OCCASIONS, ACCORDING TO THE DEVOTION IMPARTED TO HER BY OUR LORD AFTER HOLY COMMUNION. A.D. 1569.

Oh, life, life, how canst thou still exist, apart from
Him Who is thy Life? How dost thou occupy thyself
during such solitude? What dost thou do — thou, whose
actions are full of faults and imperfections? What can
comfort thee, O my soul, in this tempestuous sea? I
grieve for self, and yet still more for the time when I felt
no grief. How sweet are Thy ways, O Lord! yet who
can travel by them without dread? I dare not abstain
from serving Thee, yet my service contents me not, nor
acquits aught of the debt I owe. Fain would I give myself
wholly to Thy service, yet, looking on my misery, I see
that I am incapable of good, unless Thou first give it me.
Oh, my merciful God! what shall I do, not to render void
Thy great graces? Thy works are holy, just, priceless,
full of sublimest wisdom, for Thou, Lord, art Wisdom
itself! Yet while my mind ponders over this, my will
complains; it would have no hindrance to its loving
Thee, for in such high matters the intellect cannot attain
to its God, yet longs to enjoy Him, although it knows
not how, while shut within the dreary prison of mortality.
Now it impedes me, though, at first, meditation on
Thy grandeurs was an aid, showing me more clearly my
own immeasurable baseness.

2. Why do I say this, my God? To whom do I complain? Who hears me, but Thou, my Father and my
Creator? But why speak, in order to tell Thee of my
pain, since I see so clearly that Thou dost dwell within
me? Behold my folly! But alas, my God, how can I
be sure I am not separated from Thee?

3. Oh, my life! which must be passed in such vital
hazard, who would wish for thee? The sole gain to be
found or hoped for in thee is to please God in all things,
and even this is most uncertain and beset by dangers.

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation II.

Often do I think, O my Lord, that if aught can
soothe a life apart from Thee it is solitude, wherein the
soul rests with Him Who is its true repose. Yet, unable
as it is to enjoy Thee with full liberty, its torment often
redoubles. Yet this is a delight compared with that of
being forced to deal with creatures, and thus deprived of
holding converse alone with the Creator. But how is
it, my God, that rest wearies the soul which only seeks
to please Thee?

2. O sovereign love of God, how different are thine
effects from those of earthly love, which seeks no companion, fearing lest it should lose what it possesses! Love
for my God increases on learning that others love Him,
and its joys diminish at seeing that all men do not share
its happiness.

3. Therefore, O my only Good, during Thy tenderest
caresses and consolations, I grieve at remembering the
many hearts which do not desire these joys, and still
others who will lose them for ever. Thus my soul seeks
company, gladly leaving its own delight, moved by the
hope that it may incite souls to strive to attain it. But,
O my heavenly Father! were it not better to defer this
care for others until the soul enjoys less of Thy favours,
and to yield myself now wholly to enjoying Thee?

4. Oh, my Jesus! how deep is Thy love for the children
of men! The greatest service we can render Thee is
to leave Thee, for the sake of loving and aiding them.
Then do we possess Thee most entirely, for, though our
will enjoy Thee less, yet love delights to please Thee a
During this mortal life, all worldly delights are found to
be uncertain even though they seem to come from Thee,
unless the love of our neighbour bear them company.
Who loves not his brethren, loves not Thee, my Lord,
for Thy blood, shed for us, bears witness to Thy boundless
love for the sons of Adam.

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation III.

On reflecting, O my God! on the glory prepared
by Thee for those who persevere in doing Thy will, and
on the many labours and pains with which Thy Son
purchased us this glory — remembering our unworthiness and our obligation to be grateful for this immense
love, which, at so dear a cost to self, taught us how to
love— my soul is wrung with anguish. How is it possible,
Lord, to forget those mercies, as souls forget them when
offending Thee?

2. O my Redeemer, how oblivious are men of their
own interest! How excessive is Thy bounty! Thou
Who art ever mindful of us, when by our fall we have
struck Thee a mortal blow, dost forget it, and stretch
forth Thy hand anew to preserve us, recalling us from
our hopeless frenzy to petition Thee for health. Blessed
be such a Master for His infinite mercy; may He be
eternally praised for His tender compassion!

3. My soul, do thou for ever glorify so great a God.
How can men rebel against Him? Do not the wicked
stand condemned by His excessive mercies to them?
Redress this evil, my God! Oh, children of men, how
long will you be hard-hearted,* and steel yourselves
against this most meek Jesus? What? Can our malice
endure against Him for ever? No! for the life of man
passes away like the flower of the field, and the Son of the
Virgin will come at last to pronounce the terrible sentence.

4. Almighty God of mine, Who, though we will it not,
must be our Judge, why do we not realise the need to
propitiate Thee before that hour? Yet who, who indeed,
would not desire to have so just a Judge? • Happy the
souls who, at that dread time, shall rejoice with Thee!
O my God and my Lord! What help is there for one
whom Thou hast raised from his sins, who, seeing how
miserably he had lost all for the sake of a momentary
pleasure, is now resolved with the aid of Thy grace to
spend his life in pleasing Thee? Thou Treasure of my
soul, Who never forsakest those who love Thee, and ever
hearest those who cry to Thee — how can man live and
stave off death, at the thought of all he lost by forfeiting
his baptismal innocence? The happiest life for him is
for sorrow to render his life a living death. Yet, how can
the soul that loves Thee tenderly endure this?

5. What foolish questions do I ask Thee, Lord! I
seem to have forgotten all Thy mighty works and mercies
— how Thou earnest into the world for sinners' sakes,
didst purchase us by such a precious ransom, expiating
our evil pleasures by agonising torments and scourging.
Thou hast cured my blindness by the blindfolding of Thy
sacred eyes, and healed my vanity by the cruel crown of
thorns.

6. O Lord, Lord! all this does but embitter the grief
of one who loves Thee! My only consolation is to think
of the eternal praise that will be rendered to Thy mercy
when my sins are revealed. Yet I know not if my grief
will ever heal, until, on seeing Thee, all the miseries of
this mortal life shall vanish.

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation IV.

My soul, O my Lord, finds some repose in thinking
of the happiness in store for it if, through Thy mercy, it
is one day permitted to enjoy Thee! Yet I long to labour
for Thee first, since Thy labour won this joy for me.
What shall I do, my Lord, and what wilt Thou do, O
my God?

2. How late has my desire for Thee caught flame, but
how early didst Thou seek to win me, calling me to give
myself wholly to Thee! Hast thou ever, O Lord,
rejected the wretched, or turned away from the poor
mendicant who sought to draw near Thee? Are there
limits to Thy power, or to Thy mighty works?

3. O my God, Source of mercy to me! Now is the
time indeed in which to prove so to Thy handmaid, for
Thou art almighty. Now it will be shown whether my
soul is right in believing, while recalling the wasted years
that are past, that Thou, Lord, canst in an instant turn
this loss to gain. I seem to rave, for men say that time
once spent can never be recovered. Blessed be my God!

4. Lord, I acknowledge Thy sovereign power. Almighty as Thou art, what is impossible to Thee, Who
canst do all things? Do Thou only will it, O my God,
do Thou but will it! Miserable as I am, yet I believe
firmly that Thou canst do all Thou wilt. The more I
hear Thy wonders spoken of, the better I know Thou
canst perform still greater things: thus my faith and
my confidence grow stronger that Thou wilt grant my
request. Why wonder at what is done by the Omnipotent?

5. Thou knowest, O my God, that, in spite of all my
faults, I ever recognised the greatness of Thy power and
mercy: O Lord, may this one thing, in which I have
not offended Thee, stand in my favour! Restore to me
the time lost, giving me Thy grace, both now and in the
future, so that I may appear before' Thee in " wedding
garments," J as Thou canst do if it be Thy will.

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation V.

O my Lord! after having served Thee so ill and
known so little how to preserve past graces, how dare I
ask for more? How canst Thou trust one who has
so often proved a traitor? What then shall I do, Consoler of the disconsolate and Refuge of all those who
come to Thee for help? Is it better to say nothing of
my wants in the hope of Thy relieving them? Not so,
for Thou, my Lord and my joy, knowing how numerous
would be our needs and what solace we should find in
confiding them to Thee, didst bid us pray to Thee, for
Thou wouldst not fail to give.

2. Sometimes I think of the holy woman Martha's
complaint; she was not merely blaming her sister, but
I am convinced that what she felt most keenly was the
thought that Thou didst not care for her labours, nor
wish to have her near Thee. Perhaps she thought Thou
hadst less love for her than for her sister, which would
have tried her more than labouring for the Lord Who
was so dear that work for Him was but a pleasure. This
seems clear, since she addressed Thee, and not her sister
Mary: but, Lord, her love emboldened her to ask Thee
why Thou hadst no care for her.

3. Thine answer " shows that love alone gives value to
our actions — that " the one thing necessary " is to possess
a love so strong that it cannot leave Thee. But, my God,
how can we obtain a love worthy of our Beloved, unless
Thy love for us be united to it? Shall I make the same
complaint as this saintly woman?

4. Ah, I have no cause for that, having ever found
in my God greater and stronger proofs of tenderness than
I have known how to ask or even to desire. — Were I to
complain, it could only be that Thy mercy has borne with
me too long. — What request can so miserable a wretch as
myself make of Thee, save that of St. Augustine: " that
Thou wilt give me what to give to Thee," 2 to repay
somewhat of the heavy debt I owe Thee: that Thou
wilt remember I am the work of Thy hands, and wilt
teach me to know Thee, my Creator, so that I may love
Thee.

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation VI.

O my Joy, Lord of all things and my God! how
long must I languish for Thy presence? What solace
wilt Thou grant to one who has so little earthly comfort ,
that she may find peace while absent from Thee?

2. Oh tedious, oh painful, oh dying life! what lonely
solitude! How hopeless is my case! How long, Lord,
how long shall it endure? What shall I do, my sovereign
Good, what shall I do? Shall I desire not to desire
Thee?

3. O God my Creator! Who dost wound, yet dost
not heal; Who dost strike but leave no wound; dost kill
and give new life by it; in a word, Who art almighty,
and therefore dost what pleaseth Thee; wilt Thou make
such a wretched worm suffer these conflicting pains?
Be it so, my God, since it is Thy will, for I only seek to
love Thee. But alas, alas, my Creator, bitter anguish
wrings this complaint from me, making me speak of that
for which there is no remedy until Thou providest one!
The soul, thus pent in bondage, longs for liberty, yet
would not move one hair's breadth from the path Thou
choosest for it. Do Thou, my Glory, either increase my
pain, or cure it altogether.

4. Ah, death, death, I know not why men dread thee,
since life is found in thee! Yet who that has not always
loved God in the past would fear thee not? Since I am
such a one, what do I desire and ask? Will death but
bring the punishment my sins so justly merit? Permit
it not, my sovereign Good, for it cost Thee dear to ransom
me!

5. O my soul, submit to the will of thy God: this is
best for thee: serve Him and trust to His mercy to ease
thy pain, when by penance thou hast won some little
claim to pardon for thy sins: seek not to rejoice until
thou hast suffered!

6. Alas, my true Lord and King, I am incapable even
of this, unaided by Thy sovereign power and majesty,
but with these I can do all things!

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation VII.

O my hope, my Father, my Creator, my true
Lord, my Brother! My soul overflows with joy at remembering how Thou hast said: " My delight is to be
with the sons of men." l O Sovereign of heaven and
earth! after such words as these what sinner should
despair? Canst Thou find no one else in whom to
delight, that Thou dost seek out such a repulsive worm
as myself? At the baptism of Thy Son, Thy voice was
heard to say Thou didst delight in Him. 2 Dost Thou,
then, put us on a par with Him, Lord?

2. What infinite mercy! what favour, far transcending
our deserts! Can we mortals forget all this? Call to
mind, my God, our great misery, and look upon our
frailty, for Thou knowest all things.

3. Ponder, then, my soul, over the great delight and
love of the Father in knowing His Son, of the Son in
knowing His Father, and the ardour wherewith the Holy
Ghost unites with Them, and how none of the Three
Persons can cease loving and knowing the others, because
They are one and the same God. These Sovereign Persons
mutually know, love, and delight in one another. Why,
then, do they need my love? Why seek it, O my God?
What does it profit Thee?

4. Blessed, oh blessed for ever mayest Thou be, my
God! May all things praise Thee without end, O Lord,
for Thou art infinite! Rejoice, my soul, that there is
One Who loves thy God as He deserves, Who knows His
goodness and perfections: thank Him for having given
us on earth One Who knows Him as does His only begotten Son.

5. Under His protection, thou canst approach His
Majesty and beseech Him, since He delights Himself
in thee, to let no earthly thing prevent thy delighting in
Him, and rejoicing in the perfections of thy God and in
the thought that He deserves to be loved and praised.
Beg Him to aid thee to further, in some small degree, the
glory of His Name, that thou mayest truly say: " My
soul doth magnify " and praise " the Lord! " [Luke 1:46]

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation VIII.

O Lord my God, truly " Thou hast the words of
life," l wherein men can find all they crave, if they but
seek it! But what wonder is it if we forget Thy words,
seeing the state of folly and disorder to which our sins
have reduced us?

2. O my God! God! God and Maker of all Creation!
What is all this creation compared with what Thou canst
create, dost Thou but will? Thou art omnipotent: Thy
works are incomprehensible. [Job 9:10] Permit not Thy words
ever to become effaced from my mind: " Come unto Me
all you that labour and I will refresh you." ' What more
can we desire or seek, Lord? Why are worldlings lost,
save through seeking happiness?

3. Good God! Good God! How is it, Lord? How
pitiful! What utter blindness to seek for happiness
where it cannot be found. Have pity, Creator, on Thy
creatures! Remember, we do not understand ourselves,
or know what we want, nor do we ask aright! Lord, give
us light! See! we need it more than did the man who
was born blind, for he longed to see the light but could
not, while we do not wish to see it.

4. Oh! ill past remedy, needing Thee to manifest both
Thy power and Thy mercy. O true God of mine! How
hard a thing I crave of Thee! No less than that Thou
shouldst love those who love not Thee: shouldst open to
those who do not knock — shouldst cure those who wish
to ail, and who foster their maladies.

5. Thou didst declare, my Master, that Thou earnest
to seek sinners: 4 these are the real sinners! Look not
on our blindness, my God, but on the streams of blood
shed by Thy Son for us. Let Thy mercy shine forth
amidst such monstrous wickedness. Remember, Lord,
we are " the work of Thy hands; 6 " succour us by Thy
goodness and mercy!

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation IX.

O compassionate and tender Sovereign of my soul,
Who dost also say: "If any one thirst, let him come to
Me, and I will give him to drink! "! How parched with
thirst must men be who are inflamed with covetousness
for miserable earthly goods! Urgent is their need of this
water, lest they be totally consumed.

2. I know, my Lord, that out of Thy bounty Thou
wilt give it them. Thou Thyself hast promised it, and
Thy word cannot fail — but alas! if from having lived
long in this furnace of passion, they have become insensible to its flames, and are too careless to realise their
great danger, what cure is there for them, my God?
Thou earnest into the world to remedy such ills; begin
Thy work, Lord, for Thy pity is best shown in the most
desperate evils.

3. See, Lord, Thine enemies grow bolder — have mercy
on those so merciless to themselves, whose miserable
condition prevents their wishing to draw near to Thee:
do Thou come to them, O my God! I ask this in their
name: I know that when they are enlightened and have
returned to their senses, having begun to taste Thy
sweetness, 2 they will rise from the death of sin.

4. O Life, Who givest life to all! refuse not this most
delicious water, promised by Thee to all who desire it.
Behold, I long for it, Lord; I ask for it, I come to Thee!
Hide not this water from me: Thou knowest how I need
it, since it is the only cure for a soul wounded by Thee.

5. O Lord, how many kinds of fever inflame men's
hearts in this life! What cause have we for fear! Some
of these ardours consume the soul, yet others purify it'
and prepare it to enjoy Thee for ever.

6. O living waters, springing from the wounds of my
God, how abundantly you ever flow to sustain us! Safely
indeed, will he who drinks eagerly of this divine draught
traverse the dangers of this wretched life.

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation X.

O God of my soul! how eager are we to offend
Thee, yet how far more eager art Thou to forgive us!
Why, Lord, are we so foolishly presumptuous, unless
because, knowing Thy great mercy, we forget the strictness
of Thy justice? " The pains of death have encompassed
me." ' Alas, alas, alas! What a terrible evil is sin,
which caused a death of such agony to God Himself!
How Thy tormentors surround Thee still, my God!
Where canst Thou turn to be free from them? From
every quarter they deal Thee mortal blows.

2. Christians, it is time to defend your King and to
rally round Him in His utter abandonment: few are His
faithful subjects, and many the followers of Lucifer.
Worst of all, His public friends betray Him secretly, so
that there is hardly one whom He can trust.

3. O true Friend, how ill such traitors requite Thee!
Weep, all faithful Christians, weep with your God, Who
shed tears of pity not for Lazarus alone,' but for those
also who would never wish to rise to life, though He called
them forth.

4. O my supreme Good! all the sins I have committed
against Thee were then before Thine eyes. Prevent me,
Lord, prevent me and all men from sinning again! Raise
up souls dead in transgression: call them with such
power, that they may receive the new life they ask not
for, and come forth from the grave of their luxuries.
Lazarus did not beg to be restored to life — Thou didst
recall him at the prayer of a woman who was a sinner: '
One far more guilty is now before Thee, my God: show
forth Thy mercy! Wretch that I am, I pray for those
who will not ask it for themselves. Thou knowest my
anguish at seeing their indifference to the endless torments they will suffer unless they return to Thee.

5. Ye men accustomed to pleasure, luxuries and
feasting, who indulge your will in every way, take compassion on yourselves! Remember, that always, for
all eternity, you will be subject to the infernal furies!
Reflect — the Judge Who will condemn you then is now
your Suppliant; you are not sure of living here another
moment: why do you not strive to live the true life for all
eternity? Oh the hardness of men's hearts! Soften
them in Thy boundless pity, my God!

6. O Good God! Good God! how I grieve at thinking
of the feelings of a soul which has always been respected
and loved, waited on, honoured and pampered, on clearly
realising its eternal perdition and that it is useless to try
to turn away its thoughts from the truths of faith as
it did while on earth. It will find itself torn from its
pleasures before it had begun to enjoy them, for truly
all that ends with life passes like a puff of wind.

7. The soul sees itself among the hideous and merciless
companions with whom it is to suffer for eternity, in the
midst of a fetid pool of serpents, each of which strives to
devour it more fiercely than the rest; a horrible darkness,
revealing nothing but tormenting and hideous objects,
surrounds it, and no light appears except a gloomy flame.

8. Alas, this description falls short of the reality!
Who so blinded the eyes of such a man that he never
realises these horrors, until plunged amongst them?
O Lord! who stopped his ears from hearing the
truths so often told him of the eternity of these torments?
Ah, never-ending life! Oh, ceaseless tortures, ceaseless
torments that last for ever! How is it, that men who
fear the discomfort of sleeping on a hard bed, do not
dread such anguish?

9. O Lord my God! I weep for the time when I ignored
these horrors. Thou knowest my grief at seeing the
multitude of men who turn their thoughts from eternal
punishment: let there be one, O Lord, at least let there
be one who asks Thee to enlighten him, who is capable
of leading many others to the truth! I ask not this
favour for my own sake, Lord, for I do not deserve it,
but beg it of Thee by the merits of Thy Son. Look on
His Wounds, and forgive us as He forgave the men who
inflicted them.

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation XI.

Why, O my God, source of all my strength, are we
always cowards, except in rebelling against Thee? To
this do the sons of Adam direct all their energies. Were
not their reason blinded they would never dare to combine
the strength of the whole human race in taking arms
and waging war against Him Who in an instant could
hurl them down the bottomless abyss. With minds
obscured, they resemble madmen, who, bent on their own
destruction, imagine they will thus gain new life; — in
short, they are beside themselves.

2. What cure is there, my God, for such frenzy?
Men say that madness increases strength. So it is with
men who revolt against God: feeble as they may be,
all their fury is spent on Thee, their greatest Benefactor.

3. O incomprehensible Wisdom! Thou needest all
Thy love for creatures, to bear with such folly, and to
wait until we return to our senses, whilst by a thousand
arts and remedies Thou art striving to bring about our
cure.

4. How marvellous, that though we lack resolution
to conquer self in trivial matters, and persuade ourselves
that even if we try, we cannot avoid some occasion of
sin, or some danger by which we risk eternal perdition,
yet we have the audacity to affront such sovereign
majesty as Thine!

5. How is this, my only Good? how is it? Who
gives such strength? Is not the captain whom men
follow in this war against Thee Thy vassal? And he
dwells in unquenchable flames — how can he rise up
against Thee? How can the vanquished inspire courage?
His poverty is extreme, for he is deprived of the riches of
heaven; why, then, do men follow him? What can
he give, who owns nothing but sufferings? How can
it be, my God? Why is it, my Creator? Why do men
cowed by the devil defy Thee?

6. Even if, O my Lord, Thou hadst not aided Thine
own — even if we owed some debt of gratitude to this
prince of darkness, should we not compare the joys Thou
hast in store for us with the false and treacherous promises
of the evil one? He has betrayed Thee — what will he
do to us?

7. Alas, what utter blindness, my God! what revolting
ingratitude, my King! What hopeless madness, to use
Thy very gifts to serve Satan! to requite Thy tender
love for us by loving one who hates Thee, and will hate
Thee to eternity! Thou sheddedst all Thy Blood for us;
for us didst suffer stripes, and agony, and torturing
anguish! And we, instead of avenging Thy heavenly
Father for the flagrant injuries done to Thee, His Son — ■
for Thou Thyself didst take no vengeance on Thine
enemies, but didst ever pardon them — yet choose, as
friends and companions, the very men who treated Thee
so barbarously, since we follow their infernal leader.
Surely we shall be of their company and share their fate,
unless Thy mercy bring us to reason and forgive the past.
8. Return, ye children of men, return to your senses!
Gaze on your King, while yet He is meek; cease from
such sin and spend your fury and your strength on him
who wars against you to rob you of your inheritance.
Return, return to your senses, open your eyes, and with
strong cries and tears beg for light from Him Who gives
it to all the world. For the love of God, reflect that
you are aiming, with all your might, at slaying Him Who
lost His life to save yours, Who is your defender against
your enemies!

9. If this is not enough, let it suffice to know that you
are helpless against His power — sooner or later you must
atone for your insults and blasphemy in everlasting flames.
Do you dare thus to outrage Him because you see Him
helpless and fettered by His love for us? What more
did His murderers do, after they had bound Him, than
deal Him blows and wounds?

10. O my God! how Thou hast suffered for those
who grieve so little for Thy pain! The day will come,
Lord, when Thy justice will be made manifest, and men
will discover that it equals Thy mercy. Mark that,
Christians! Deeply as we may reflect upon it, never
shall we realise how much we owe our Lord God and
how magnificent are His mercies. But, if His justice
is as great, alas, alas! what will be their fate who deserve
its being carried out and exemplified in them?

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation XII.

O ye souls free from all dread of ever losing your
bliss, — you, who are constantly absorbed in the praises of
my God, how blessed is your lot! How just it is that
you should ceaselessly adore Him! How I envy you,
who are delivered from the grief I feel at witnessing the
hateful offences committed against my God in these
unhappy days and the gross ingratitude of men's indifference to the multitude of souls Satan is dragging
down to hell.

2. O blessed souls dwelling in paradise! Relieve our
miseries and intercede for us with the divine Mercy,
that He may give us some little share of your felicity,
and of the certain knowledge you possess. Grant us
to understand, my God, what reward Thou givest to
those who fight valiantly during the nightmare of this
wretched life. O souls inflamed with love, obtain for
us grace to comprehend your delight at reflecting on the
eternity of your bliss and your rapture at knowing it
will never end!

3. Wretched creatures that we are, O Master mine! we
know and believe these truths, yet our old-established
habit of not reflecting on them makes them too strange
for souls either to realise or seek to grasp them. And
you, self-seeking, craving for pleasure and enjoyment,
since you will not have the patience to wait but a short
time, when you could enjoy them in abundance — to wait
a year, or a day, or an hour, or perhaps no more than an
instant — forfeit them all for the ' sake of some miserable
and momentary gratification that offers itself.

4. Oh, oh, oh! How little do we trust Thee, Lord!
far more precious riches and treasures didst Thou entrust
to us — the three and thirty years of Thy Son's sufferings,
His death and agony, and Thy Son Himself! And these
didst Thou bestow on us centuries before we were born,
knowing at the time that we should repay Thee nothing;
yet Thou didst not hesitate to consign to us this inestimable treasure wherewith, if we augment its value
by the aid of Thy Son, we can purchase eternal happiness
from Thee, O compassionate Father!

5. Oh, blessed souls, so wise in knowing how to make
good use of this loan — who bought with it the matchless
prize of so joyful and eternal an inheritance, teach us
how you gained through Him such endless bliss! Help
us, you are so near the fountain-head! draw water for
us who perish with thirst in this world.

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation XIII.

O my Lord, very God of mine! "He who knows
Thee not, loves Thee not." How true this is, but woe,
ah, woe! to those who seek not to know Thee! ' The
hour of death is an hour of terror; but, alas, alas, my
Creator, how terrific will be that day on which Thy justice
shall be executed! Often do I think, my Saviour, how
beautiful are Thine eyes to those who love Thee, on whom
Thou, my only Good, dost deign to gaze with affection.
I think but one such tender glance, bent on those Thou
holdest as Thine own, is recompense for many a year's
service.

2. Good God, how hard it is to make this understood
by one who has not " tasted and seen how sweet the
Lord is." O Christians, Christians, reflect on your
brotherhood with this great God! Realise it; think not
lightly of it; for His gaze is as full of terror for His
persecutors as of love for His friends.

3. Oh! we do not understand that sin is a pitched
battle of all the senses and powers of the soul against
God: the greater the sinner's power, the more does he
scheme to betray his King. Thou knowest, my Lord,
that the thought of seeing Thy divine gaze turned on
me in wrath in that last terrible day of judgment has
often terrified me far more than all I have heard of the
tortures and furies of hell, 5 and I besought Thee of Thy
mercy to save me from such misery, as I beseech Thee
now, Lord! What evil could happen to me in this world
approaching this? Give me all earthly ills, my God,
but spare me this misery! 6 Let me not lose my God,
nor the peaceful contemplation of Thy beauty: Thy
Father gave Thee to us, Lord; let me not lose so precious
a Jewel!

4. I confess, eternal Father, that I have kept it negligently, but that may still be remedied. Lord, it may be
remedied while I still dwell in this land of exile.

5. O brothers, brothers, my brethren, children of this
God, courage! courage! for you know that if we repent,
His Majesty has promised to remember our sins and
wickedness no more.

6. Oh, what boundless mercy! What more could we
desire? Would not anyone be ashamed of asking so
much? Now is the time to accept what this compassionate Lord and God of ours gives us. He seeks our
friendship: who would deny it Him Who refused not to
shed all His blood and to lose His life for our sakes? See,
this is nothing He asks from us, a mere nothing, and only
what it is best for us to give Him.

7. Alas, O Lord! what hard-heartedness, what folly,
what blindness! We grieve if we lose anything, — an arrow
— a hawk which amuses but for a moment by its flight
through the air — yet we care nothing if we forfeit this
imperial eagle of the majesty of God, and a kingdom of
endless joys. Why is it? Why is it? I cannot understand it. Put an end, my God, to such folly and blindness!

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation XIV.

Alas, alas, Lord! how long this exile lasts! What
torture does it give me from my yearning to possess my
God! Yet, Lord, what can the soul do, held fast in this
prison?

2. Ah, Jesus, how long is mortal life, though men call
it short! Short, indeed, in which to gain eternal life, but
very long and weary to the soul that desires to be in God's
presence! What medicine hast Thou for such suffering?
None, save to suffer for Thy sake!

3. O sweet comfort of those who love my God, never
desert thy lovers, for thou dost increase, yet solace, the
pain caused by the Beloved in the soul that pines for
Him! I desire, Lord, to please Thee, and well I know
that I can find happiness in no human being, 2 therefore,
Thou wilt not blame me for desiring Thee.

4. Behold me here, Lord! if there is need for me to
live to render Thee some service, like St. Martin who
loved Thee so fervently, 8 I refuse no trials that may
await me on earth. But alas, my Lord, he gave Thee
works, while I only render Thee empty words, for I
can do no more.

5. Let my words prevail in Thy divine presence, and
look not on my feeble merits. May we all attain to the
love of Thee, O Lord! Since we must live, let us live
solely for Thee, relinquishing all desires, all self-interest,
for what can profit us more than to please Thee?

6. O my joy and my God! what can I do to please
Thee? My services are contemptible, however many I
may perform for my God! Why then should I remain
in such utter misery? That the will of God may be
done: — is there aught better than that? My soul,
hope, hope on, for thou knowest not when the day or the
hour will come. Keep constant watch, for all is swiftly
fleeting, though thy longing makes thee doubt the inevitable, and lengthens the brief time. Remember —
the longer thy battle, the more thou provest thy love for
thy God, and the greater thy never-ending bliss and
delight with thy Beloved.

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation XV.

O my very God and Lord! Greatly does it comfort
the soul wearied by the loneliness of absence from Thee,
to reflect that Thou art present in all things! Yet when
the ardour of its love and the impetuous vehemence of
its anguish increases, what does even this avail? The
understanding is darkened, the reason obscured, so that
it can no longer grasp nor believe this truth. The soul
only feels that it is separated from Thee and can find no
solace, for the heart that loves Thee so deeply receives
neither comfort nor help save from Him Who wounded
it and to Whom it looks for the remedy that will assuage
its pain.

2. When Thou wilt, Lord, Thou dost quickly cure
the wound Thou hast inflicted: until then, vain is all
hope of healing or joy save that found in suffering for
so good a cause.

3. O true Lover! how tenderly, how sweetly, with
what joy and caresses, with what infinite signs of love
dost Thou heal these wounds, opened by Thee with the
arrows of love itself!

4. O my God, comforter of all sorrows, how foolish I
am! What human remedy can avail those injured by
the divine fire? Who can penetrate the depths of this
wound, or tell whence it came, or how such keen yet
delicious torture can be soothed? How senseless to
fancy that such a precious ill could be cured by anything
so common as human art.

5. Well does the Bride say, in the Canticles: "My
Beloved to me and I to my Beloved." (Cant. 2:16) " My Beloved
to me," for no such love could spring from love so base as
mine. Yet if my love be base, my Bridegroom, why
does it pass by all creatures until it reaches its Creator?

6. O my God! Why, " I to my Beloved "? Thou,
my true Lover, didst begin this war of love, which seems
nothing but an inquietude and failing of all the powers
and senses, which go through the streets (Cant. 3:2) and lanes,
imploring the daughters of Jerusalem to tell them where
is their God. Against whom do the powers of the soul
strive, during this contest, save Him Who has taken
possession of the fortress they once held, — the highest
part of the soul? From this He has ejected them, and
they now return to oust their conqueror; at last, weary
of absence from Him, they yield themselves up. Thus,
losing all their strength, they fight far better than before,
and by surrendering to their victor, triumph over Him
finally.

7. O my soul! what a blessed conflict hast thou waged
during this trial, and how truly has this been thy case.
Since " My Beloved is to me and I to my Beloved," who
will strive to separate and extinguish two such ardent
flames? It would be labour lost, for they are now one. (1 Cor 6:17)

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

Exclamation XVI.

O my God, my infinite Wisdom, without measure
and without bounds, above the understanding either of
angels or men; Love, Who dost love me more than I
can love myself, or can conceive: why do I wish for more
than Thou dost will to give me? Why weary myself
by praying for what I desire to Thee, Who knowest what
would be the result of all my thoughts imagine or my
heart craves for, while I am ignorant of what would
profit me?

2. Perhaps what my soul fancies would be its gain
might be its ruin. If I ask Thee to free me from a cross
by which Thou seekest to mortify me, what do I ask
Thee, my God?

3. If I entreat Thee to send me such a trial, perhaps it
may be beyond my patience which is too weak to bear
so heavy a burden; or, were I to endure it, but were
wanting in humility, I might fancy I had performed some
great deed, while Thou, my God, didst do it all. When
I seek for greater sufferings, I do not wish for what might
injure my good name which seems requisite for serving
Thee, although I believe that I care nothing for my
honour; yet perhaps the very means I think would hinder
me might further my one desire of labouring for Thee.
I could say far more, O Lord, to show how little I know
myself, but as Thou surely knowest this, why do I speak
of it?

4. In order that, when misery again overwhelms me,
my God, and reason is blinded, I may find it written here.
Often, my God, when I feel most wretched, weak, and
cowardly, do I try to recall her, who called herself Thy
servant, who thought the grace she had received from
Thee would suffice to arm her against all the tempests
of this world. 2

5. No, my God, no! Let me no longer trust to my
own wishes: will for me as Thou art pleased to will,
for this is my will, since all my good consists in pleasing
Thee. If Thou, my God, shouldst will to please me by
satisfying my longings I see that I should be lost. How
vain is man's wisdom! How dangerous are his plans!
May Thy providence supply my need that I may serve
Thee according to Thy will, not mine!

6. Punish me not by granting prayers or wishes at
variance with Thy love, which I desire may ever dwell
within me. Make me die to self; let Another, greater
and better for me than myself, live in me, that I may
serve Him; let Him live and give me life: 5 let Him
reign that I may be His slave, — my soul seeks no other
liberty, for how can he be free who is separated from the
most High? What more abject or miserable serf than the
soul which has broken loose from the hands of its Creator?

7. Happy the souls imprisoned by the fetters and
chains of God's gifts and mercy, and too strongly bound
and helpless to free themselves. " Love is strong as
death and hard as hell." (Cant 8:6)

8. Oh, that we were but slain by this love, and plunged
in this divine hell, from whence, ah, from whence there
is no hope of escape, or rather, no fear of being cast forth.
But woe is me, Lord! during this mortal life we live in
constant danger of losing the life that is eternal.

9. O life, enemy of my joy, would that it were lawful
to put an end to thee! I endure thee, since God
endures thee: I sustain thee, for thou art His; do not
betray nor harm me in return. And yet, Lord, " Woe
is me that my sojourning is prolonged." All time is
short in exchange for Thine eternity, yet how long a day,
or even an hour appears, laden with the risk and dread
of offending Thee!

10. Free-will! enslaved by thy liberty, unless established
in the fear and love of thy Creator, when will that blessed
day arrive in which, absorbed in the infinite ocean of
supreme Truth, thou wilt no longer possess the power
nor wish to sin, being freed from all misery, and united
to the life of thy God?

11. God is happy, for He knows, loves, and rejoices in
Himself, without the possibility of doing otherwise. He
is not, nor can He be, at liberty to forget or cease to love
Himself, nor would such power be a perfection in Him.
Thou wilt enter into thy rest, my soul, when thou dost
enter into closest intimacy with this Sovereign Good,
when thou knowest what He knows, lovest what He
loves, joying in what rejoices Him.

12. Then thou wilt lose the fickleness of thy will;
then, ah then, wilt thou change no more for the grace
of God will have been powerful enough to render thee
so perfect, "a partaker of His divine nature " that thou
wilt no longer have the power nor wish to forget the
supreme Good, nor to cease to exult in Him and in His
love. Blessed are those whose names are written in
the book of life. But, my soul, if thou art among their
number, " Why art thou sad, and why dost thou trouble
me.

13. "Hope in the Lord, because I will yet confess to
Him", my sins and His mercies: of which I will make
a song of praise, mingled with incessant sighs to Him,
my Saviour and my God. It may be that a day will
come when" my glory shall sing to Him " 18 and my
conscience be no more "troubled," where all weeping
and fears shall be no more. Meanwhile, "in hope and
silence shall my strength be." (Isa 30:15) Rather would I live
and die in the hope of eternal life than possess all created
beings and riches, for they must all pass away. Forsake
me not, O Lord, for "in Thee do I trust, let not my hope
be confounded!" (Ps 30:2) May I always serve Thee faithfully
— then dispose of me as Thou wilt!

Conceptions Of The Love Of God On Some Verses Of The Canticle

Introduction

JHS. MARIA.

I have been a witness to the mercies that our Lord grants
to souls He has called to these convents, which His
Majesty has been pleased should be established according
to the primitive Rule of our Lady of Mount Carmel. So
sublime are some of the Divine favours shown to several
of the nuns that only those who realise the need of somebody explaining to them certain things which occur in
the intercourse between Christ and the soul, can understand what these religious suffer for want of light. For
several years He has made me take such delight in hearing
and reading some of the texts in the Canticles of Solomon,
that, although I cannot clearly understand the meaning
of the Latin in Spanish, yet they impress and affect me
more than many devotional books in my own tongue.
This is usually the case, but although people have told
me the sense of the words in Spanish, I do not grasp
their meaning any better than before . . . and without
intending it, they withdraw my soul from Him. . . .

[Note: The manuscript of Alba de Tormes, the only one to contain
this Prologue, is incomplete here and at the end, part of the sheet
being torn off. ]

For the last two years, our Lord has enabled me to
perceive unaided the doctrine contained in some of
these texts, which I think would bring comfort to those
sisters whom He leads in this way, and even to myself;
for sometimes He teaches me much on the subject that
I should like to remember, yet I have never dared to
write it down. By the advice of certain persons whom
I am bound to obey, I will tell you some of the meanings
that Christ taught me were contained in certain words in
which my soul delighted during the state of prayer to
which He has also raised some of the sisters in our convents, who are also my sisters. If it is given you to read,
accept this poor little gift from her who desires for you,
as for herself, all the gifts of the Holy Ghost, in Whose
name I begin this book. Should I meet with any success
in my attempt, it will not be through my own abilities.
May His Majesty enable me to accomplish the work! . . .

Conceptions Of The Love Of God On Some Verses Of The Canticle

Chapter I.

Treats of the difficulty of understanding the meaning of
the Holy Scriptures, especially the Canticle of Canticles.
That some sentences contained in the latter, although
they seem trite, homely, and unsuited to the most
pure utterance of God and of His Spouse, yet comprise
very holy mysteries and sublime ideas.

1. Consolation to be found in the mysteries of the Holy Scriptures. 2. How to
look upon these mysteries. 3. Misinterpretation of the Canticle of Canticles.
4. Caused by our lack of love for God. 5. How the Canticles comfort
devout souls. 6. They demonstrate God's love for us. 7. How profound
are the mysteries of the Canticles. 8. Saint Teresa's plea for commenting
on them. 9. Her apologies. 10. Whom the Bride addresses in the text
quoted. 11. " Let Him kiss me with the kiss of His mouth." 12. The
" kiss " signifies peace. 13. The Canticles scandalise tepid souls. 14.
They are meant for fervent souls.

"LET HIM KISS ME WITH THE KISS OF HIS MOUTH:
FOR THY BREASTS ARE BETTER THAN WINE." (Cant 1:1)

1. I have noticed especially that the soul appears by
these words to be speaking with one person and asking
a kiss from another. For the Bride says: " Let Him
kiss me with the kiss of His mouth," and then appears to
address the person himself in the words: "for thy
breasts are better than wine." I cannot understand
this, and I am very glad of it. For the soul ought not
so much to contemplate and honour God in those things
that our grovelling intellects can master in this life, as
in these problems that we cannot solve. When you read
a book, or hear a sermon, or meditate on any of the
mysteries of our holy faith, if you find you cannot clearly
comprehend the matter, I strongly recommend you not
to tire yourselves, nor to strain your minds by puzzling
over it, for many of these things are not suited for women
— nor men either, very often!

2. When our Lord wishes us to comprehend these
matters, He will enlighten us with no labour of our own.
This applies to women, and also to men who are not bound
to defend the truth by their doctrine: those whom God
has appointed for our teachers must necessarily study,
and they gain by it. As for us, let us accept what He
gives us in all simplicity, and not tire ourselves by trying
to discover the rest; let us rather rejoice at thinking
that we have so great a God, Whose every word contains
a thousand mysteries, so that its very first principle is
beyond our grasp. This would not be surprising were
the language Latin, or Hebrew, or Greek, but how many
things in the Psalms of the glorious King David are as
obscure to us in Spanish as they would be in Latin!
Therefore never rack your brain or tire yourselves about
these matters; for women need no more than what suits
their capacity — with this, God will give us His grace when
He chooses. He will teach us without any trouble or
labour of our own. As for the rest, let us humble ourselves and, as I said, glory in having a God Whose words,
even in the vulgar tongue, are beyond our understanding.

3. You may think that some things in the Canticles
might have been expressed differently. Our minds are
so evil that this would not surprise me. I have even heard
people say that they avoided hearing them. Alas, O
God, what most miserable creatures we are: like venomous reptiles that turn all they eat into poison! From
the great favour our Lord does us in showing us the bliss
enjoyed by the soul that loves Him and how He encourages
it to converse with and delight in Him, we draw misgivings
and mistaken ideas in accordance with our lukewarm
love for Him.

4. O my Master! How we pervert all the blessings
Thou bestowest on us! Thou dost seek ways and means
and allurements to testify Thy love for us, but we, unused,
as it were, to love Thee, so disparage them that our
thoughts follow their usual track, and never penetrate the
sublime mysteries hidden in mere words, dictated as they
are by the Holy Spirit. Could more be needed to inflame
us with love for God than the thought that He did not
adopt this way of speaking without a deep motive? I
remember once hearing a religious preach an excellent
sermon, principally upon the joys of the bride with her
God, and the congregation scandalised me by the way
that they laughed at and misinterpreted his words — for
he spoke about love because it was at the Mandatum
when no other subject was admissible.

5. I am convinced, as I said, that the love of God is so
strange a thing to us that we cannot believe that a soul
could thus be intimate with God. But though these
people gained no good from the words because they did
not understand them, and I believe they fancied that
the preacher invented them himself, yet others have
drawn great profit and comfort and reassurance of their
misgivings from this source, and have often thanked God
for having left such gracious refuge and help to souls who
love Him fervently, in words which testify how far He
can abase Himself. Were it not for this, their fears
could not be quieted. I am acquainted with some one
who felt very anxious for many years and nothing
could reassure her until our Lord was pleased that she
should hear certain passages from the Canticles which
showed her that she was in the right path. For, as I
said, she knew that it is possible for a soul enamoured
of the Bridegroom to experience these caresses, ecstasies,
overmastering desires of death, and desolations, delights
and joys with Him, once it has forsaken all worldly
pleasures for His love and has placed itself entirely in
His hands; 4 resigning itself to His will — not in word
alone as many do, but in very truth, confirmed by deeds.

6. O my daughters, what a good Paymaster God is!
You have a Master and Bridegroom Whose notice nothing
escapes, Who knows and sees everything, so do all you
can, however little, for love of Him. He will reward you,
for He will only look at the love which inspired your
deeds. To conclude with, I advise you, whenever you
meet with anything that you do not understand, either
in the Holy Scriptures or the Mysteries of the Faith, not
to stop to puzzle over it, as I said, nor to be shocked at the
tender speeches which pass between God and the soul.
I am more daunted and overcome at His love for us,
seeing what we are, yet since He feels such affection, no
endearing words can testify it so plainly as do His
actions. And now, I beg you to pause a little, and think
over the love of God for us, and what He has done for us.
Seeing that His love was potent and resistless enough to
make Him suffer thus, how can He amaze us by any
words through which He utters it?

7. To return to what I was speaking of. There must
needs be a deep meaning and profound mystery contained
in the words of the Canticle of Canticles, and they are so
precious that theologians, whom I have asked what the
Holy Ghost signifies by them and what was their true
purport, have told me that the Doctors of the Church
have written many commentaries without succeeding in
fully explaining them.

8. Since this is the case, it seems excessively presumptuous for me to attempt to elucidate the subject;
but this is not my design, nor, however wanting I may be
in humility, do I suppose that I can penetrate the exact
sense. My idea is, as I derive great pleasure from what
our Lord makes me understand when I hear any part of
the Canticles, that if I told you about it, it might perhaps
comfort you as it does me. Though my commentary may
not be applicable to the words of the Holy Scripture, yet
I may take them in that sense, if I do not differ from the
doctrine of the Church and the Saints — and men skilled
in theology will examine my book to guard against this
before it is shown you — I think our Lord authorises this,
as He permits us, when meditating on His sacred Passion,
to ponder over the many labours and torments He must
have suffered which the Evangelists never mention. If
we do not act from curiosity, as I said at first, but only
accept the light God gives us, I feel certain that He will not
resent our joy and comfort in His words and works. In
the same way, it would please and amuse a king to see a
simple shepherd boy, who was his favourite, standing
amazed at the sight of the royal robes, wondering of what
material they were, and how they were made. So we
women need not be entirely shut out from enjoying the
divine treasures; as to discussing them and teaching
others on the subject as if we thought we understood it
without having consulted learned men — that is another
thing.

9. God knows I do not expect such success in what I
write — I am only like the shepherd lad I spoke of. It is a
pleasure to relate my thoughts to you, although many of
them are very foolish. So I will begin, with the aid of my
Divine King, and the permission of my confessor. May
God grant, since He has vouchsafed to let me succeed in
aiding you (or has Himself aided you through me on
your account) in other ways, that I may help you now.
But if not, my time will have been well spent in writing
and thinking over a subject so divine that I am unworthy
even to hear it mentioned.

10. It appears to me, as I said before, that the Bride
is speaking of a third person who yet is the very same she
is addressing, for in Christ there are two natures, one
divine and the other human. I will not dwell on this,
because I only intend writing of what appears profitable
to us who practise prayer — yet everything serves to
encourage and rouse to admiration the soul that fervently
desires to love our Lord. His Majesty knows that,
though I have heard these words expounded and they
have been explained to me at my own request, yet this
happened but rarely and I remember nothing at all
about it, for my memory is very bad. Thus I can only
say what He teaches me or what suits my purpose, and
I cannot recall having heard anything about the beginning
of the chapter: " Let Him kiss me with the kiss of His
mouth."

11. O my Lord and my God! What words for a creature
to utter to its Creator! Blessed be Thou for having
taught us in so many different ways! Who, O my King,
who would dare to speak thus without Thy permission?
It is astounding; indeed, some may be astounded at my
saying that anyone may use such an expression. People
may tell me that I am a simpleton — " that the bride
would not utter such a speech," — " the words have many
meanings and we certainly ought not to address them to
God; " — " it would be better that simple persons should
not discuss such things! "

12. I own that the words have many meanings, yet
the soul inflamed and intoxicated with love cares for no
other meaning, and only desires to utter them, since God
does not deprive her of the right of so doing. God help
me! Why should we be so amazed? Is not the reality
still more wonderful? Do we not approach the most
Blessed Sacrament? I have sometimes wondered whether
the Spouse was asking here for this favour which Christ
afterwards bestowed on us? At other times I have
thought she might have meant the consummate union of
God being made Man, that close friendship He contracted
with the human race. Undoubtedly, a kiss is the sign of
peace and friendship between two persons. May God give
us grace to understand how many kinds of peace there are.

13. Before going any farther, I have a remark to make
which I think is important, although it would have been
more appropriate at some other time; however, I will
run no risk of forgetting it. I feel sure that many souls
approach the most Blessed Sacrament — would to God I
were mistaken! — laden with mortal sins. If such persons
heard one who was dying for love of God utter the words
I quote, they would be scandalised and would take it for
extreme presumption. Most certainly they would never
themselves use this expression, for it and others of the
same sort contained in the Canticle of Canticles are uttered
by love which speaks thus, and as such persons lack love,
they might read the book every day and never use such
expressions, nor even dare to pronounce the words whose
very sound strikes one with awe, so sublime is their
majesty. And this majesty is Thine, O my Lord! in the
most holy Sacrament, but as faith is no longer living
but is dead in such souls, they, seeing Thee humbled
beneath the species of bread and remaining silent (for
indeed they are unworthy to hear Thee), dare thus grievously to outrage Thee. When I consider, O my God and
my Lord! the dignity of Thy divine Majesty and the
greatness of Thy Sovereign bounty which lead Thee to
communicate so intimately with base creatures, I ask
myself how it is that they are not beside themselves with
wonder and do not seek Thy grace and friendship with all
their heart. For, not content with cherishing the soul
and giving Thyself for its food and nourishment, Thou dost
delight in its treating Thee as its tender and beloved
Bridegroom and asking Thee to kiss it with Thy sweet
and divine mouth. In order to bestow Thy gifts and
favours and to draw it to Thy love, Thou dost speak
to it and teach it with such care that the words addressed
by Thee to souls to show them their faults, their miseries,
and to lead them to renounce earthly things are usually
of a kind of which the very sound penetrates the mind
with fear.

14. If these words were taken literally they might well
awe the soul, yet to one beside herself with love of Thee,
Lord, Thou mayest pardon this and even more, presumptuous as it may be! For if, my Lord, a kiss signifies peace,
why should not souls ask it of Thee? What more can we
beg of Thee than what I plead to Thee for, O my Master,
that Thou wilt kiss me with the kiss of Thy mouth?
This, daughters, is a most sublime petition, as I will
explain to you.

Conceptions Of The Love Of God On Some Verses Of The Canticle

Chapter II

Of nine sorts of false peace; of defective love and fallacious
prayer. This chapter contains very important teaching on genuine love, and on how souls should examine
themselves so as to discover the defects that hinder
them from attaining the perfection they desire.

1. Peace produced in souls by the devil. 2. Peace proceeding from laxity.
3. Examples of this peace among religious. 4. Life must be a constant
warfare. 5. Advantages of temptations and struggles. 6. Peace of soul
and contrition. 7. Contrition a sign of spiritual life. 8. Preparation
for this peace. 9. Dangerous peace. 10. Object of this treatise. 11.
Riches disturb peace. 12. Peace and holy poverty. 13. Evils of flattery.
14. Its treachery. 15. Our own nothingness. 16. Dangers of flattery.
17. Bodily comfort and our Lord's example. 18. And that of the Saints.
19. Consequences of self-indulgence. 20. Self-indulgence in religious.
21. Various kinds of divine peace. 22. Peace with God. 23. Dispositions for obtaining it. 24. Habitual sin. 25. God is patient with us. 26.
Venial sins and peace. 27. Their danger. 28. Worldliness and peace.
29. Renouncement of the world. 30. An instance. 31. Self-deception
difficult in religious life. 32. Human respect and perfection. 33. Peace
disturbed by care for reputation. 34. Cautious souls. 35. Their want of
trust. 36. The religious life and peace.

i. God deliver you from many kinds of peace which
the world enjoys! may He prevent us from ever experiencing such peace, for it engenders a perpetual warfare!
When worldly minded people feel very placid although
they commit heinous offences and are untroubled by their
sins, so that conscience does not upbraid them, their peace,
as you have read, comes from their being friends with the
devil, who while they live will wage no war on them, for
such is their malice that, to save themselves trouble, they
would, to a certain extent, return to God although they
do not love Him. Still, with such a motive as this, they
never remain long in His service. As soon as the evil
one notices it, he flatters their humour again, and so
regains their friendship, until he holds them fast in the
place where they learn how false was his peace. But it
is needless to speak of such persons — let them enjoy
their tranquillity — and I trust in God that no such
harm will be found among you.

2. The devil may give us another kind of peace respecting insignificant defects, and we must fear him,
daughters, as long as we live. When a nun begins to
grow lax about what appear to be in themselves unimportant things, and feels no remorse of conscience after
some time, this is an evil peace, and Satan may bring her
to a very wicked peacefulness.

3. Such is the breach of some Constitution, which in
itself is no sin, or carelessness in obeying the orders of a
superior who is the representative of God, for we came
here prepared to respect her wishes. There are other
little matters which do not seem to be sinful, but which
are imperfections. Such things must occur, because of
the miseries of our nature: I do not deny this, but I say
that we ought to be sorry for them and to know that we
have done wrong; otherwise the devil may bestir himself and gradually make the soul insensible to these small
defects, and when he succeeds in this, I assure you, my
daughters, that he has gained no small victory, and I
fear he will not stop there.

4. For the love of God, watch yourselves very carefully.
There must be war in this life, for we cannot sit with our
hands folded among so many enemies, but must keep
constant watch over both our outward and inward conduct. I assure you that even though our Lord may grant
you favours during prayer, of which I shall speak later
on, yet at other times there will be no lack of a thousand
little stumbling-blocks and chances, such as breaking a
rule through carelessness, not performing some duty as
well as might be, besides internal troubles and temptations.
I do not say this must always be the case, nor that it is
very usual. Still, it is a signal mercy from our Lord when
such trials occur l and the soul makes progress by their
means. We cannot be angels in this world, for it is not
our nature.

5. Therefore I do not feel alarmed at seeing a soul
greatly tempted, which will benefit it if it has the fear
and love of our Lord, for I know it will come out with
great gain. When I see anyone, like some people I have
met, always calm and never meeting with any conflict,
although I do not witness her offend God, yet I always feel
misgivings about her, and, since the devil leaves her alone,
I try to prove her in every possible way, so that she may
discover what she really is. I have rarely known such
cases, yet it is possible for the soul which God has raised
to a high degree of contemplation to be in such a state
and enjoy constant interior happiness. For my part I do
not believe that their case is thoroughly understood, and
on investigating the matter, I have found that they have
their little struggles at times, although not frequently. I
have weighed the matter carefully, and I do not envy
such persons, for I find others advance far more who
sustain the combats that I have described, although
their prayer is not such, in point of perfection, as we
should expect it to be here.

6. I do not allude to those who have attained great
holiness and mortification by their long years of warfare;
they have died to the world, and our Lord usually gives
peace, which, however, does not prevent their perceiving
and grieving deeply over their faults. God guides souls
in many different ways, daughters, yet I am always sorry
when you feel no sorrow for any fault you have committed, for you ought to take to heart every sin, even
a venial one, as, glory be to God, I believe and see that
you do.

7. Notice one thing, and remember it for love of me.
If a person is alive, however slightly you prick her with
a needle or with a little thorn, the most slender you can
find, does she not feel it? Now, if the soul is not dead, but
has a living love for God, is it not a great grace from Him
that she should feel pained at the least infringement of
the vows she has taken or the obligations she is under?
Oh! is not the heart in which God implants such solicitude
prepared by Him as a couch of flowers to which He cannot
choose but come and delight Himself, long though His
delay may be?

8. Alas, O my God! Why are we nuns in our convent?
Why did we leave the world? For what did we come?
How can we better spend our time than in preparing
within our souls a dwelling-place for our Bridegroom,
that we may be able to ask Him to " kiss us with the kiss
of His mouth "? Blessed will she be who makes this
petition, whose lamp shall not have gone out when the
Lord comes and who need not return to her home after
having knocked. 2 O my daughters, in how high a state
are we placed! No one can prevent our saying these
words to our Spouse, for we became His brides when we
made our profession.

9. Let scrupulous persons understand that I have not
been speaking of an occasional fault, or of failings that
cannot always be known or regretted; I allude to a
religious who habitually commits faults and takes no notice
of them, thinking they are of no consequence, and who
neither repents nor tries to amend them. I say once more
that such a peace is dangerous, therefore beware of it.
What, then, will become of those who are very lax about
their Rule? God grant there may be none of this kind
among us! Doubtless, the devil often gives such peace,
and God permits it as a punishment for our sins, but there
is no need to discuss it here, as I only wished to give you
a word of warning.

10. We will now consider the peace which our Lord
begins to grant us in prayer; of this I will tell you as
much as His Majesty shall be pleased to make me understand. On reflection, I think it best to say something
here about the peace given by the world, and that produced by our sensuality, for though it has been far better
written about elsewhere, you may be too poor to buy the
books, and perhaps no one will give them to you, but
these writings will be kept in the convent and will contain
both subjects.

11. We may be misled in many ways by worldly peace:
from those I shall describe you may divine the rest. For
instance — some people have all they require for their
needs, besides a large sum of money shut up in their safe
as well, but as they avoid mortal sin, they think they have
done their duty. They enjoy their riches and give an
occasional alms, yet never consider that their property is
not their own, but that God has entrusted it to them as
His stewards for the good of the poor, and that they will
have to render a strict account of the time they kept it
shut up in their money chests, if the poor have suffered
from want on account of their hoarding and delay. We
have no concern with this, except to ask God to enlighten
such people lest they meet with the fate of the rich miser,
(St. Luke xvi. 19-31.)
and to thank Him for making us poor, which we should
hold as a special favour on His part. my daughters!
what a solace to be free from such burdens, even as regards this world's tranquillity, and it is impossible to
imagine what a difference it will make to us at the last
day. The rich are slaves, while you are rulers: as a comparison will show. Which is the more at ease, the gentleman who finds his meals set ready for him or his steward
who has to render an account of every maravedi? The
former enjoys his goods without counting the cost, but
the burden falls on the poor steward's shoulders, and the
greater the wealth, the heavier the responsibility. How
often he must lose his sleep, especially when the time of
reckoning comes, particularly if he has to balance up for
several years, and has been more or less careless in the
past. Then, if there is a large deficit, I cannot think how
he can feel any peace.

[Note: The poverty practised by the holy Mother, says Yepes, was
extreme, if such a word can be applied to so great a virtue. She
often left her convent without any provision for the journey,
yet neither the things she needed nor her trust in God ever failed
her. She took most pleasure in those convents that were founded
in the deepest penury, and used to say that the only things
required for a foundation were a small bell and a house on hire.
Once, when founding a convent she rejected the offer of a counterpane and a brasier, as she thought both these articles unsuitable
for Discaled nuns. She also refused other gifts of greater value,
for she shunned riches as other people seek them. An instance
was told by the Duchess of Alva, Dona Maria Knriquez, who,
knowing her need and poverty, gave her some valuable jewels
which the holy Mother received with gratitude, as she did not
i appear to despise the presents, yet on taking leave of her
hostess she handed them to the waiting maid with an injunction
to return them to the Duchess (Life, bk. ii. ch. 36).
6 Way of Perf., ch. ii. 6, 7. ]

12. Read no further, daughters, without first thanking
God very heartily. Be more strict than ever in your
custom of holding no personal property. We are contented to eat whatever our Lord provides, and as He will
let us want for nothing, we need not be anxious about
superfluities. His Majesty has taken good care that we
should possess nothing we might feel constrained to give
away. The principal point is, daughters, that we should
be satisfied with little; we ought not to want anything for
which we should be bound to render a strict account, as a
rich man must, even though his money is not in his own
care, but in that of his major-domo. And what a strict
reckoning that will be! If only he realised it, he would not
enjoy his luxurious meals so much, nor squander his
means in useless and frivolous ways. As for you, my
daughters, always try to be as poor as you can, both in
your food and clothing, otherwise you will cheat yourselves,
for God will not give you more, so you will remain unsatisfied. Always endeavour not to take the food of the
poor without having served His Majesty, although all
that you can do will be but a scanty return to God for
the peace and rest which He bestows on you because you
will have to render no account of riches. I know that
you understand this, but you must from time to time
render special thanks to Him on this account.

13. It is needless for me to warn you against the earthly
peace which comes from honours, because the poor never
meet with much honour. However, unless you are
careful, praise from others may harm you greatly, for
when once it begins it never ceases, and generally ends in
running you down afterwards. This usually takes the
form of telling you that you are more holy than others,:
and such-like nattering speeches which seem to have been
inspired by the devil. Indeed, they must be, sometimes,
for if they were said in your absence it would not matter,
but when uttered in your hearing, what other fruit can
they produce but evil, unless you are most wary?

14. For the love of God, I implore you never to find
your peace in such speeches, for they might gradually do
you so much mischief that at last you would come to
believe them, or to think you had done all you need, and
that your work was finished. Never let such things be
said of you without strongly repudiating them; you can
easily do this if you make it your constant practice. Remember how the world treated our Lord Jesus Christ,
yet how it had extolled Him on Palm Sunday! Men so
esteemed St. John Baptist as to mistake him for the
Messiah, yet how barbarously and for what a motive they
afterwards beheaded him! Never does the world exalt
any of the children of God, save to dash them down again!

15. I know this well by experience. I used to regret
that people praised me so blindly, but now I laugh as at
the words of a madman. Remember you: sins, and that,
even if there is some truth in what is told you, the good is
not your own, but you are only under an obligation of
serving God more strictly. 8 Dread lest you should take
pleasure in this treacherous kiss given by the world;
look upon it as the kiss of Judas; although no harm may
be meant by it, the devil is always on the alert and may
despoil your soul unless you defend yourself.

16. Believe me, in such a case you must stand ready
with the sword of recollection in hand. Although you
may think that no harm is done you, do not trust to that
— remember how many who stood on the heights have
fallen into the abyss. There is no safety during this life,
but for the love of God, sisters, always struggle within your
own heart against these dangerous flatteries; then you will
come forth with deeper humility, and the devil, who has
been watching both you and the world, will be crestfallen.

17. I could say much about the peace our bodies can
bring us, and the harm that results. I will give you some
warnings upon certain points which will guide you about
the rest. The body, as you know, is very fond of comfort,
and we ought to realise the great danger of pacifying it.
I often wonder, and never can understand, how self-indulgent persons can feel so peaceful and at rest. Did
the most sacred body of our great Model and Light merit
less enjoyment than do ours? Had He done aught to
deserve the cruel sufferings it bore?

18. The Saints are in heaven, this is certain; have we
read of any who got there by living luxuriously on earth?
Then, how can we feel so easy about doing so? Who told
us that it was right? How is it that some men squander
their time uselessly in eating and sleeping well and in
amusement and ease? I am amazed at it. One would
suppose there was no future world, and that this was the
safest way to live!

19. Daughters, if you only knew what harm there is in
this! While the body grows sturdy the soul becomes so
enfeebled that, if we saw it, we should fancy it was about
to become extinct. Many books warn us of the injury
done us by finding our peace in bodily comfort. If men
only realised it was wrong, there would be some hope of
their amending, but I fear the idea never occurs to them,
nor am I surprised, since the habit is so universal. I
assure you that though they may enjoy physical ease,
they will have a thousand struggles to go through in order
to save their souls. It would be better for them to
understand this and to do the penance by degrees which
will one day come upon them all at once.

20. I have told you this, daughters, to make you thank
God for placing you where your body could not find such
peace, even if you sought it. Yet it could harm you unconsciously under the pretext of illness, and there is need
to warn you urgently against this. For instance, it
might injure you to take the discipline on a certain day,
but perhaps there is no necessity to leave it off a whole
week. Again, it would harm you not to wear linen, but
you need not do so for several days. On another occasion
you cannot eat fish, yet it would not disagree with you
when your digestion became used to it. You may fancy
you are too weak for this and a great many other things.
I am experienced, and I know that nuns are sometimes
unaware of how important such things are when there is no
urgent need of such dispensations. What I say is, that
we ought not to be content with such relaxations, but
should, from time to time, try whether we can fulfil our
duties: flesh and blood are very treacherous, and there is
need for us to recognise this. May God, of His great bounty,
give us light! Prudence and confidence in our superiors'
judgment instead of our own are the important points.

21. To return to my subject. By describing the special
peace she asks for in the words, " Let Him kiss me with
the kiss of His mouth," the Bride shows that our Lord
has other ways of bestowing His peace and friendship. I
will describe some of them so that you may see the difference and realise the, sublimity of this kind. O great God
and Lord of ours! How profound is Thy wisdom! Well
might she say: " Let Him kiss me!" Yet it seems as if
she might have concluded her petition here, for what is
the meaning of " the kiss of His mouth "? Undoubtedly
there is no superfluous letter in these words. I do not
understand her reason, yet I will write something on the
subject; as I said, it matters little if it is not the exact
meaning so long as it profits us.

22. Our King confers His peace and friendship on the
soul in many ways, as we see daily, both during prayer
and at other times, but our peace with Him hangs by a
single hair, as the expression is. Consider, daughters, the
meaning of these words, so that you may utter them with
the Bride, if our Lord should draw you near to Himself; if
not, do not lose courage. Every kind of friendship with
God will leave you rich in gain, unless of your own accord
you forfeit it. But how deeply should we grieve and
regret it if, through our own fault, we do not attain to
such close friendship with Him, but content ourselves
with a slighter intimacy.

23. Alas, Lord! Do we not remember how great are
the reward and the goal? A reward which, when our
friendship has attained to this grade, is bestowed on us by
God even in this world! How many remain at the foot of
the mountain who might have climbed to its summit! I
have often told you in the other little works I have written,
and I now repeat it: always make courageous resolutions,
for then God will give you grace to act accordingly.
Rest assured that much depends on this.

24. There are people who, though they have attained
to friendship with God, for they confess their sins sincerely
and repent of them, yet before two days are over, commit
the same faults again. This is certainly not the friendship
for which the Bride petitions. O daughters! try not
to take the same fault to confession every time. It is true
that we cannot help committing sins, but at all events let
them not always be identical, lest they take root, for it
would be hard to pull them up, and they may even send out
many off -shoots. If we set a plant or a shrub and water
it every day, it will grow so sturdy that we shall want a
spade and a fork to tear it up. This appears to be the
case with any fault, however small, that we commit daily,
unless we amend it; though it is easy to uproot it when it
has only grown for a day or even for ten days. We must
pray to our Lord to grant us this amendment, for on
our own account we can do little, except add to our sins
instead of giving them up. Remember that this will be
of no small consequence to us in the terrible judgment at
the hour of death, especially to those whom the Judge
made His brides during their lifetime.

25. O great and marvellous condescension! that God
should invite us to endeavour to please our Lord and
King! Yet how ill do those requite His friendship who so
soon again become His mortal enemies! Great indeed is
the mercy of God! Where can we find a friend so patient?
When once such a severance has occurred between two
companions it remains unforgotten and their friendship
is never so close as before. Yet how often does such a
breach occur between us and our Lord, and how many
years does He await our return! Blessed be Thou, my
Master, Who art so long-suffering in Thy pity for us that
Thou seemest to forget Thine own greatness, and dost not,
as Thou hast the right, chastise such faithless treason!
The state of such souls seems full of peril, for though
God's mercy is manifest, yet sometimes we see them die
without confession. May He, for His own sake, deliver
us, daughters, from such danger!

26. A better sort of friendship is that of persons who are
careful not to offend God mortally — indeed, as the world
goes, it is a great thing for souls to have got so far. Though
such people avoid grave faults, yet I believe they fall into
them occasionally, for they care nothing about venial
sins, although they commit many every day, and are thus
on the point of mortally offending God. They ask: " Do
you scruple about that? " (as I have heard many people
say); "this fault will be effaced with a little holy water
and the remedies of our holy Mother Church." How
very sad this is!

27. For the love of God, be most watchful: never let
the thought of so simple a remedy make you careless about
committing a venial sin, however small; what is good
ought not to lead us into evil. If you remember this
resource after you have fallen — well and good! It is a
great thing to preserve so pure a conscience that there is
nothing to hinder your asking for the perfect friendship
desired by the Bride. Most certainly, the state described
is not this amity, but a very dangerous one for many
people, tending to self-indulgence and likely to lead to
great tepidity, nor are they always certain whether their
faults are venial or mortal. God deliver you from such a
friendship! for these souls think they have not committed
such grievous sins as they see in others. To hold others
worse than oneself is a want of humility, 15 while, perhaps,
they may be far better, being deeply sorry and contrite
for their misdeeds, and more firmly resolved than their
critics to amend, so that in future, perhaps, they will offend
God neither in light nor in grave matters. The first mentioned, as they think that they do no serious wrong, are
much more lax in indulging themselves: they rarely say
their prayers devoutly, as they do not trouble themselves
about such details.

28. There is another kind of friendship and peace that
our Lord bestows partially upon certain persons who
wish not to offend Him in any way, yet who do
not completely withdraw themselves from occasions of
falling. They keep their set times for prayer and God
grants them the gift of devotion and tears, yet they
wish to spend good and regular lives without giving up
their pleasures, which they think will conduce to their
living in peace even in this world. But the events of
life bring many changes and it will be hard for such
souls to persevere in virtue; for, not having given up
earthly joys and pleasures, they soon grow lax on the
road to God, from which there are many powerful foes
to turn us. This, daughters, is not the amity asked
for by the Bride, nor that you wish for yourselves.
Avoid every slight occasion of evil, however insignificant,
if you are anxious for your soul to grow in grace and
to live in safety.

29. I do not know why I tell you all these things,
except to teach you the danger of not resolutely leaving
all worldly things, by which we should free ourselves
from many sins and troubles. Our Lord has so many
ways of contracting friendship with souls that I should
never finish telling about those I know, though I am
only a woman. Of how many more, then, must confessors
and those who study the subject be aware?

30. I am astonished at some souls, for there seems
nothing to prevent their becoming the friends of God.
I will mention one person of this sort whom I knew
very intimately a short time ago. She liked to receive
Holy Communion very frequently; never spoke ill of
anyone, and felt great devotion during prayer. She
lived alone in continual solitude, for she had a house
of her own, and she was so sweet-tempered that nothing
that was said ever vexed her, which is a very great virtue,
nor did she ever say anything wrong. She had never
married, and was now too old to do so. She had suffered
much annoyance from others, yet had kept her peace.
These appeared to me signs of a soul far advanced in
the spiritual life and in a high state of prayer, so that
at first I had a very good opinion of her, for I never
saw her offend God, and I was told that she carefully
avoided doing so. But, on knowing her better, I began
to discover that she was peaceful enough as long as
nothing touched her self-interest, but when that was in
question, her conscience lost its sensitiveness and became
extremely lax. She bore patiently what was said to her,
but was jealous of her honour and would not willingly
yield one jot nor tittle of her dignity or the esteem
of the world, so wrapt up was she in this miserable sentiment. Her anxiety to know all the current gossip was
so great that I wondered how she could remain alone
for an hour; besides which she was very fond of comfort.
She gilded over all her actions so that they seemed blameless, and, according to her own account of some affairs,
I thought it would have been wrong of me to judge
otherwise, yet in certain matters it was notorious that
she was in the wrong; — however, perhaps, she did not
understand it. At first I liked her very much, and most
people took her for a saint, yet afterwards I thought
she ought to have owned that she herself was partly
in fault as regards some of the persecutions she told me
she had suffered. I did not envy her sanctity nor her
mode of life; indeed, she and two other persons I have
known who considered themselves saints, when I became
intimate with them struck me with greater fear than all
the sinners I ever met.

31. Let us beg God to enlighten us; and thank Him
fervently for having brought you to this convent, where,
however hard the devil tries, he cannot deceive us as if
we lived in our own homes. Some souls seem quite
ready to soar to heaven, since they are perfect in every
way in their own opinion and there is no one to know
better; yet in a religious community they are always
detected, for there they must obey instead of following
their own way. But in the world, although they sincerely
wish to know themselves in order to please God, yet they
cannot do so, because they follow their own will in
everything they do, and although it may be crossed at
times, yet they are not so exercised in mortification.
Certain persons are to be excepted who for many years
have received divine light to seek some one who understands them, to whom they submit although they may
be more learned than he, for their great humility destroys
all self-confidence.

32. There are other people who have left everything
for our Lord; they possess neither home nor belongings,
and care nothing for pleasure or worldly matters, but
are penitent, because our Lord has shown them the
worthlessness of all these things. Still, they are very
tenacious of their honour and value their reputation;
they will do nothing that does not please men as well
as God. How discreet and prudent they are! These
two objects are hard to reconcile, and the mischief is
that, half-unconscious of their error, they always take
the world's side in preference to our Lord's. They are
generally very grieved if anything is said against them.
They do not carry the cross but drag it after them, and
so it pains and wearies them, but when it is loved it is
undoubtedly sweet to bear. Neither is this the friendship the Bride asked for; therefore, daughters, since you
have made the sacrifice I spoke of in the beginning of
this book, 15 do not fail or hesitate to yield the rest.
All such things would burden you if you have forsaken
the chief thing in giving up the world with its joys, its
pleasures and riches, which, false as they are, still delight
us — what have you to fear?

33. You do not understand the question. To free
yourself from the vexation of being found fault with,
you burden yourselves with a thousand cares and
obligations. These are so numerous, if we seek to please
society, that it would take too long to describe, nor do I
even know them all.

34. To conclude with, there are other souls in whom,
if you examine them attentively, you will find many
signs that they are beginning to make progress, yet
they stop midway. They care little for what is said of
them, or for honour, but are unused to mortify themselves
or to renounce self-will, and have not yet lost all fear
of temporal evils. Prepared to suffer all things, they
have apparently reached perfection, yet in grave matters,
when our Lord's honour is at stake, they prefer their
own interests. They do not realise it, but imagine
that they fear God and no one else. It seems as if the
devil must suggest to them the drawbacks they prophesy
a thousand years beforehand concerning the great
harm that may result from some good work.

35. These are not the souls to imitate Saint Peter when
he cast himself into the sea, (John 11:7) or to follow many other
of the saints. They wish to draw others to God, but
to do so peacefully without running into danger themselves, nor does their faith influence their motives very
powerfully. I have noticed that we rarely see anyone
in the world (I am not speaking now of religious) who
trusts to God for maintenance; indeed, I only know
two such persons. People know that they will want
for nothing in religion, although I believe that no one
who enters it purely for the sake of God even thinks of
this. Yet how many are there, daughters, who but for
this assurance would not forsake all they possess!
However, as in my other writings I have spoken fully
about such cowardly souls 17 and the harm they do
themselves, and also of the great advantage of having
high aims although our actions may not correspond
with them, I will say no more about them, though I
should never grow tired of the subject.

36. Since God has raised souls to this high state, let
them serve Him in it and not remain shut up in themselves.
If religious (and nuns especially) cannot help their
neighbour personally, they have much power to do so
by prayer, if their resolutions are heroic and their wish
of saving souls is sincere. Our Lord may even permit
them to be of some service to others, either during this
life or after death, as He did the holy friar Saint Diego,
who was a lay-brother and only did manual work.

[Note: St. Diego (or Didacus), born in Andalusia, became a Franciscan
lay-brother at Arizafa, where he led a most holy life. Though
uneducated, he obtained so much light in prayer that theologians
from all parts consulted him on difficult questions. Having been
sent to the Canary Islands, he converted many infidels. Still
a lay-brother, he was made Guardian. He was eventually recalled to Spain and died at Alcala de Henares, November 12, 1463.
Among other miracles he cured Don Carlos of a mortal wound, ]

Yet,
many years after his decease, God has revived his memory
to be our example. Let us give thanks to His Majesty.
Therefore, my daughters, if our Lord has called you to
the religious state, there is little wanting to obtain for
you the friendship and peace desired by the Bride. Ask
for it unceasingly with tears and longing; do all you can
on your part to gain it from God. You must understand
that the state of religion is not in itself the peace and
amity begged for by the Spouse, although such a vocation
is a signal and divine favour; but this friendship is
the result of much practice in prayer, penance, humility
and many other virtues. May God, the Giver of all
things, be praised eternally! Amen.

Conceptions Of The Love Of God On Some Verses Of The Canticle

Chapter III.

Of the genuine peace, oneness with Christ, and love for
God which spring from the prayer of union, called
by the Bride " the kiss " from the divine " mouth."

1. Fervour produced by the " kiss." 2. Signs that a soul has received it. 3.
Comparison of the slave's ransom. 4. St. Paulinus of Nola. 5. Diffidence
and contrition. 6. Holy confidence. 7. Friar Juan of Cordobilla. 8.
Graces left by the " kiss." 9. The flesh wars against the spirit. 10. This
appears in the Passion. 11. Strength won by determination. 12. Our
blindness to divine love. 13. A prayer for peace.

" LET HIM KISS ME WITH THE KISS OF HIS MOUTH."

I. O holy Bride! Let us now ponder over the kiss you
ask for, which is that sacred peace that encourages the
soul to wage war with the world, while yet preserving
perfect confidence and calm within itself. What a
happy lot for us to win this grace! It consists in so
close a union with God's will that He and the soul are
no longer divided, but their will is one ' — not in words
and wishes only, but in deeds as well. When the Bride
sees that she can serve the Bridegroom better in any
way, so ardent are her love and desires that she discusses
no difficulties raised by her mind nor listens to the fears
which it suggests, but allows faith to act, seeking no
profit or comfort of her own, having learnt at last that
her welfare consists entirely in this.

2. This may not seem right to you, daughters, for
prudence is always commendable, but the point to consider is whether, as far as you can tell, God has granted
your petition and kissed you with " the kiss of His
mouth." If the effects prove that He has done so, you
should no longer curb your zeal in any way, but forget
self altogether in order to please so gentle a Bridegroom.
His Majesty reveals Himself by many signs to the soul
which enjoys this favour. You must examine this point
for yourselves — at least as far as the thing is possible —
by noticing the effects produced in the soul. Evidently
we cannot know for certain, for it concerns a state superior
to the state of grace and resulting from a very special
aid from God. I say that we can, to a certain
degree, ascertain by the effects whether His Majesty
has bestowed this favour on us, because God grants so
high a blessing to the soul in proportion to the strength
of its virtue. Such a soul, while recognising by its
interior light that the Lord has given it the peace craved
for by the Bride, cannot but doubt the fact at times on
realising its own miseries. When you are aware, sisters,
that you have received such a grace, let nothing daunt
you, but forget self entirely in order to please so tender
a Spouse. Perhaps you will ask me to explain myself
more fully, and to tell you which virtues I allude to;
and you will be right, for there are divers kinds of
virtue. I will mention some. One is a contempt for
all earthly things, which the mind rates at their true
price, no longer caring for worldly possessions as it
realises their futility. Such a person takes no pleasure
in the society of those who do not love God, and is weary
of life, holding riches at the esteem they deserve, and
showing other sentiments of the same kind, taught by God
to those whom He has led so far. Once raised to this
state the soul has nothing to fear, except that it may
fail to deserve that God should make use of it by sending
it crosses and occasions of serving Him at however dear
a cost to itself. Here, I repeat, love and faith take
control, and the soul does not choose to take counsel
from reason. For the union between the Bridegroom
and His Bride has taught her things to which the mind
cannot attain, so to say, so that she holds it subject
beneath her feet.

3. Let me explain this by a comparison. The Moors
hold captive in their land a man whose only hope of
rescue lies in being redeemed by his father or an intimate
friend ' who is so poor that all his belongings would not
suffice to emancipate the slave, so that this could only
be done by the ransomer exchanging places with the
prisoner. The strong affection of the former prompts
him to prefer his friend's freedom to his own. Then
discretion steps in with its many pleas, declaring: " You
are bound to care for your own interests first; perhaps
you are weaker than he and you might deny your faith;
it is wrong to run into danger," with many other objections
of the kind. Oh, powerful love of God! nothing seems
impossible to one who loves! Happy the soul that has
won this peace from its God! It holds sway over all
the trials and dangers of the world, and fears nothing
when there is a question of rendering any service to
its faithful Spouse and Lord. Well may it be thus
confident, for even the father or friend of whom I spoke
felt such love!

4. You have read, daughters, of a certain Saint
who, not for the sake of a son or a friend, but because
he must have won the happiness of having received
this divine grace, desired to please His Majesty and to
imitate, in some degree, the many sufferings He bore
for us. This holy man went into the country of the
Moors, and exchanged places with the son of a poor
widow who had come to him in great distress about her
child. You know of the success and the reward with
which he met. 5 Doubtless his mind presented to him
many more objections than those I enumerated, for he
was a bishop and had to leave his flock; indeed he was
probably beset by great misgivings.

5. I must mention something which applies to those
who are naturally timid and wanting in courage, as are
most women constitutionally, so that, though their souls
have genuinely been raised to this state, nature takes
alarm. We must be on our guard, lest through our
inborn frailty we lose a priceless crown. When these
fears assault you, have recourse to faith and humility,
and proceed to act with the confidence that God can do
all things now, as when, in the past, He enabled many
noble maidens to suffer the grievous torments they had
resolved to undergo for His sake. What He wishes for
is the resolution which makes Him Master of your free
will, for He needs no strength of ours. Indeed, His
Majesty prefers to manifest His power in feeble souls,
where it has more scope for work, and where He can
better bestow the graces He longs to give. Profit, then,
by the virtues He has implanted in you, to act with
determination and to despise the obstacles raised by
your reason and by your natural weakness, which will
increase if you stop to wonder " whether you had better
venture upon this course or no, for perhaps you are too
sinful to deserve the same aid from God that He gives
to others "!

6. This is not the time to think about your sins;
such humility is out of time and place. When some
great honour is offered you or the devil tempts you to a
self-indulgent life, or other things of the same sort, then
fear that your misdeeds would prevent your doing so
with rectitude. But when it is a question of suffering,
either for your God or your neighbour, feel no misgivings
because of your sins. Perhaps you may perform this
action with such charity that God will forgive, you all
your bad deeds, and this is what Satan fears, and there T
•fore reminds you of all your former wrongdoings. You
may be sure that God will never desert those who love
Him, when they incur danger solely for His sake. But
let them examine whether they are influenced by selfish
motives: I speak only of those who seek to please God
more perfectly.

[Note: The chronicle of the Friars of St. Peter de Alcantara says that
Juan de Cordobilla (near Merida), who after the death of his wife
had become a lay-brother, asked for leave to offer himself as a
ransom for some Christian captive among the Moors. The
superiors at first demurred, thinking him mad, but finally consented. His ship, having come within sight of the African coast,
was driven back by a gale, and Juan, who was seized with fever,
was landed at Gibraltar, where he died, October 28, 1566. As
some of the nuns at Segovia had come from Avila, St. Teresa
could well say: " You saw him when he came to visit me."]

7. I knew a man in our own times, Fray Juan of Cordobilla, whom you saw when he came to visit me, who
was inspired by our Lord with such charity that he
was bitterly grieved at not being allowed to go and
exchange places with some captive. Juan was a lay-brother of the Barefooted Franciscans reformed by St.
Peter de Alcantara, and told me himself all about it.

After a great many appeals, he obtained leave from
his General, but at about fifteen miles from Algiers,
while on his way to accomplish his good purpose, God
took him to Himself. Doubtless Fray Juan was generously rewarded. How many prudent people must have
told him that he was very foolish, and we who do not
share his love for our Lord agree with them, yet what
could be more unwise than to end our life's dream with
such prudence? God grant that we may deserve even
to enter heaven, not to speak of ranking with souls so
far advanced in their love for God!

8. I realise the need of strong help from Him that we
may perform such deeds, therefore I advise you, my
daughters, to persevere in begging from Him this delightful
peace, which dominates the silly fears of the world, peacefully and quietly making war on it. Is it not evident that
God has endowed with great graces the soul which He
has favoured so highly as to unite it to Himself in this
close friendship? For, most certainly, this is not our
own doing: we can only pray and long for this mercy,
and we need His help even for that. As for the rest,
what power has a worm whose sins make it so cowardly
and mean that we fancy all the virtues must be measured
by the baseness of our human nature? What can be
done, daughters? Pray with the Bride: " Let Him kiss
me with the kiss of His mouth."

9. If a poor little peasant wench were to marry the
king, would not her children be of royal blood? Then,
if our Lord favours a soul by uniting it thus absolutely
with Himself, what desires, what deeds, what heroic
virtues will be the children born of the union, unless the
soul put obstacles in the way? ' Therefore I repeat
it: if God shows you the grace of giving you an occasion
of performing such actions for Him, do not recall to mind
your past sins. Here faith must overcome our misery.
Do not be alarmed if you are nervous and timid when
first you determine to undertake such deeds, or even if
these feelings should last, take no notice of them except
to be on your guard more watchfully — let the flesh
have its say. Remember the prayer of the good Jesus
in the garden: " The flesh is weak," 8 and think of His
wonderful and grievous sweat. If, as His Majesty said,
His divine and sinless flesh was weak, how can our flesh
be so strong, while we live in this world, as not to dread
the persecutions and trials that menace it? When
they come, the flesh will become subject to the spirit;
for after our will has become united to the will of God,
it will lament no more.

10. It has just occurred to me that although our good
Jesus showed human weakness before His sufferings, yet
He was intrepid when plunged into the midst of them,
for not only did He utter no complaint, but He showed
no weakness in the way He bore them. On entering
the garden He said: "My soul is sorrowful even unto
death," yet while dying on the cross He never
murmured. He went to wake His Apostles during the
prayer in the garden, but He had better cause to speak
of His pain to His Mother while she watched at the foot
of the cross, for she did not sleep — her soul suffered and
died a bitter death. Yet the greatest consolation is
to be found in seeking sympathy from those we know
share our sorrows and love us most deeply.

11. Let us not trouble about our fears nor lose heart
at the sight of our frailty, but strive to fortify our humility
and be clearly convinced of how little we can do for
ourselves, for without the grace of God we are nothing.
Let us confide in His mercy and distrust our own strength
in every way, because reliance on this is the root of all
our weakness. It was not without strong reason that
our Lord showed weakness, for it is plain that He Who is
power itself could never feel fear. He acted thus to
comfort us, to show that good desires must be carried
out in deeds, and to make us recognise that when the
soul first begins mortifying itself, it finds everything
painful. It is a pain to give up pleasures; a torment
to forgo honour; an intolerable trial to bear a hard
word; — in short, nothing but mortal sufferings. But
when once determined to die to this world, it is freed
from all these ills, and no trials can make it complain.
Now it has found the peace for which the Bride
petitions.

12. The " kiss of His mouth." Undoubtedly we should
be enriched if we approached the most Holy Sacrament
but once with great faith and love; how much more as
we receive it so often? Apparently we frequent it
only out of custom, and therefore gain but little light.
O wretched world, who dost obstruct from thy dwellers
the sight of the treasures by which they might purchase
eternal wealth! Ah, Lord of heaven and earth, is it
then possible, during this mortal life, to enjoy such close
friendship with Thee? Clearly as the Holy Spirit states
it in these words, we do not even wish to understand
the meaning in the Canticle of Canticles of the caresses,
the wooing, and the delights Thou dost bestow upon
the soul.

13. One speech of this sort should suffice to make us
all Thine own. Blessed be Thou, O Lord, for nothing
is wanting on Thy part! In how many ways, by how
many means and manners dost Thou show Thy love!
By Thy labours, by Thy bitter death, by the tortures
and insults Thou didst bear, by the pardon Thou dost
grant us, — and not by these alone, but by the words Thou
dost utter and teach us to utter in these Canticles, which
so pierce the soul that loves Thee, that I know not how
it could endure them unless Thou didst afford it succour,
not according to its merits, but as its weakness needs. I
ask, then, O Lord, no more of Thee in this life except
that Thou " kiss me with the kiss of Thy mouth," in
such a way that, even if I wished, I could not separate
myself from union and friendship with Thee. Grant
that my will may be subject to and may never swerve
from Thine, leaving nothing to prevent my saying with
truth, O my God and my Glory, that " Thy breasts are
better" and more delicious " than wine."

Conceptions Of The Love Of God On Some Verses Of The Canticle

Chapter IV.

Of the sweet and tender love of God which proceeds from
His dwelling in the soul in the prayer of quiet, termed
here " the divine breasts."

1. " Thy breasts are better than wine." 2. These words apply to the
prayer of quiet. 3. Its effects. 4. It confers happiness. 5. Other benefits.
6. Mother and babe; a comparison. 7. Earthly and heavenly joys.
8. Rewards of self-surrender. 9. A prayer for divine union. 10. Insignificance of our service. 11. Self-oblation.

"THY BREASTS ARE BETTER THAN WINE " (Cant. 1:1)

1. O my daughters! What great mysteries are contained in these words! May God permit us to experience
them, for they are indescribable. When His Majesty in
mercy answers this prayer of the Bride, He begins to enter
into a friendship with her soul which, as I said, can be
understood only by those who have enjoyed it. I have
written very fully about it in two books 2 which, if it
be the will of God, will be given you after my death.
The subject is there treated minutely and thoroughly,
which I knew you would need, therefore I shall do no
more than touch upon it now. I do not know whether
I shall explain it here in the same words that our Lord
was pleased that I should use then.

2. The soul is now convinced, by a feeling of extreme
internal sweetness, that it must be near our Lord. 3 This
sweetness is not a simple feeling of devotion which moves
us pleasantly so that we shed tears abundantly either
over the Passion of our Lord or our past sins. In this
state, which I call the ' ' prayer of quiet ' ' because of the
peace it brings to the powers, the soul receives great
consolations. Yet sometimes, when the spirit is not so
absorbed by sweetness, it enjoys in a different manner.
The whole creature, both body and soul, is enraptured
as if some very fragrant ointment, resembling a delicious
perfume, 4 had been infused into the very centre of the
being, or as if we had suddenly entered a place redolent
with scents coming not from one, but from many objects;
we do not know from which it rises nor what it is, although
it entirely pervades our being. 5 So it is with this most
sweet love of our God: with the greatest suavity it
enters the soul, which feels happy and satisfied, but
cannot understand the reason nor how this great good
entered it.

3. The soul fears losing it, and is loath to move or
speak or even to look about, lest it should disappear.
But I have explained in my other writings how to behave
in order to benefit by this favour, which I only mention
here that you may understand what I am describing.
I will therefore merely say that our Lord thus shows that
He desires so close a friendship with the soul that nothing
may come between them. Great truths are here imparted to the mind, which, although too dazzled to realise
what the light is, now perceives the vanity of the world.

The soul does not see the good Master who teaches it, 6
although clearly conscious of His presence. Still, it is
left with greatly increased knowledge and such growth
and strength of virtue as to be unable to recognise its
former self. The one desire of such a person is to praise
God, and while in this excess of delight she is so inebriated
and absorbed as to appear beside herself. Indeed, she
seems in a state of divine intoxication, and does not
know what she wants, or says, or for what she asks. In
short, she is unconscious of self, and yet not so absorbed
but that she understands something of what is happening.
4. When, however, this most wealthy Bridegroom wishes
to enrich and caress her still more, He so draws her to
Him that she is like a person fainting with extreme joy
and pleasure. 7 The soul appears to itself to be upheld
in those divine arms and pressed to His sacred side
and divine breasts. It only knows how to enjoy, sustained as it is by the divine milk with which its
Spouse continues to nourish it, (Isa lxvi. 12,13) and to increase its
virtues that He may caress it more, and that it may
deserve daily to receive new favours from Him. On
awaking from this slumber and heavenly inebriation, it
feels amazed and confused, and I think that, in a sacred
frenzy, it might then utter the words: ' ' Thy breasts are
better than wine."

5. For when first the spirit felt carried out of itself,
nothing higher seemed possible of attainment; but now,
finding itself in a higher state and plunged in the unspeakable greatness of God, and seeing how it has been nourished, it makes the tender comparison: ' Thy breasts
are better than wine." For, as an infant does not know
how it grows or is nourished — indeed often, without
any effort of its own, the milk is put into its mouth — so
it is in this case with the graces infused into the soul;
it knows nothing itself, nor does anything, and is unable
to perceive whence, nor can it imagine how, this great
good came to it. It only realises that this is the keenest
delight that can be felt in this life, even if all the world's
joy and happiness could be enjoyed at once. The soul
finds that it has been strengthened and benefited without
knowing how it has merited such a boon. It has been
taught great truths without seeing its Teacher, and been
confirmed in virtue and caressed by Him Who best knows
how, and Who has the power to do so. It knows not
to what to compare this except the endearments of a
mother who tenderly loves her child, and feeds and
fondles it.

6. This metaphor is most appropriate, for the soul is
upraised without using the powers of the mind, much
in the same way as a babe, who when he is thus feasted
and pleased, yet has not the intelligence to grasp the
reason why. But the soul was not quite so passive in
the preceding state of slumber and intoxication, for it
was not entirely quiescent, but both thought and acted
to a certain extent. Realising its nearness to God,
it cries with truth: " Thy breasts are better than
wine." 10 What a favour is this, my Spouse! what a
delicious banquet and what precious wine dost Thou
give me, one drop of which makes me forget all created
things and go forth from all creatures and from myself,
no longer to crave for the pleasures and delights that my
sensual heart has longed for until now! Great is this
favour and unmerited by me! Since His Majesty has
increased it and drawn me still closer to Him, well may
I cry: ' Thy breasts are better than wine." Thy
mercies in the past were great, O my God, but this far
surpasses them, as I take less share in it myself, therefore
it is. much more sublime in every way.

7. Great are the joy and delight of the soul which
advances thus far, O my daughters! May our Lord grant
us to understand, or rather, I should say, taste, for in
no other way can we understand the happiness of the
soul in such a case. If the earth could collect together
all its riches, its pleasures, its honours and its feasts, —
if all these could be enjoyed simultaneously without the
trials that accompany them (which is impossible), yet
in a thousand years they could not bring the bliss that
is enjoyed in a single moment by the soul God has
brought thus far. St. Paul declares that " the sorrows
of this world are not worthy to be compared to the
happiness that we look for," ll but I say that they are
not worthy to be compared nor could they earn one
hour of this gladness, satisfaction, joy and delight here
given to the soul by God Himself. I do not think they
can be weighed with one another, nor can the baseness
of earthly things merit such tender caresses from our Lord,
nor a love so demonstrative and so tasted by the soul.

8. How trivial are our sorrows compared with this!
Unless borne for God, they are worthless, and even then
His Majesty proportions them to our strength, because
our misery and cowardice make us dread them so keenly.
Ah, Christians! ah, my daughters! For the love of
God, let us arise from sleep! Remember how He does
not wait until the next life to reward our love for Him,
but begins to pay us even here! O my Jesus! who can
express all that we gain by casting ourselves into the
arms of our Lord and plighting with Him this troth:
" I to my Beloved, and His turning is towards me," 12
and " He cares for my affairs and I care for His." 1S
Do not let us be so self-seeking as to put our own
eyes out, as the proverb says.

9. Again do I ask Thee, O God, and beseech Thee, by
the blood of Thy Son, to grant me this grace, " Kiss
me with the kiss of Thy mouth," for what am I without
Thee, Lord? What worth do I possess apart from Thee?
If I wander but one step from Thee, where shall I go?
O Lord of mercy, my only Good! What more do I
seek in this life than a union so close that there can
be nothing to divide me from Thee? With such a
companion, what can be hard? With Thee by my side,
what dare I not attempt for Thy sake? What thanks
do I deserve? Have I not rather incurred great blame
for my remissness in Thy service? Thus, with my whole
heart, I beg Thee, like Saint Augustine, to " give what
Thou askest and ask what Thou wilt! " 14 and with
Thine aid I will recoil from nothing.

10. I see indeed, 18 O my Bridegroom, that Thou art
mine, nor can I deny it. For my sake didst Thou come
to earth; for my sake didst Thou undergo so many
trials; for me wast Thou scourged with many stripes;
for me dost Thou remain in the most Blessed Sacrament
and now Thou dost show me such signal favours! Yet,
O holy Bride, how can I utter these words with thee?
What can I do for my Bridegroom? Truly, sisters, I
do not know how to escape from this dilemma! What
can I be for Thee, O my God? What can a soul do for
Thee which is given to such evil habits as mine, except
lose the graces Thou hast given it? What service canst
Thou hope for on my part? And even if, by Thine
aid, I should accomplish something, what need can an
all-powerful God have of the deeds of a wretched worm?

11. O Love! In how many ways do I long to say these
words, and it is love alone which dares to cry with the
Bride: "I love my Beloved! " and which gives us the
right to believe that this our true Lover has need of us,
and that He is my Spouse and my chief good. Then,
since He gives us leave, daughters, let us cry again:
" My Beloved to me and I to my Beloved." 16 Thou to
me, Lord? Then, if Thou comest to me, why doubt that
I can do much to serve Thee? Henceforth, Lord, I desire
to forget self, to seek only how to serve Thee, and to
have no other will but Thine. But, alas, my strength
has no power! Thou art all-powerful, my God! All
that I can give Thee is my firm resolve, and henceforth
I give it Thee, to serve Thee by my actions.

Conceptions Of The Love Of God On Some Verses Of The Canticle

Chapter V.

The strong, trustful and faithful love born in the soul
through the consciousness that it is protected beneath
the " shadow " of God, which knowledge is usually
given by Him to those who have persevered in His
love and have suffered for Him. Of the great benefits
produced by this love.

1. I sat down under His shadow. 2. The " shadow " of God. 3. Such favours
rarely shown to the imperfect. 4. The prayer of union. 5. The tree of
the Cross. 6. Further favours. 7. Our unworlhiness.

"I SAT DOWN UNDER HIS SHADOW WHOM I DESIRED, AND
HIS FRUIT WAS SWEET TO MY PALATE."

1. Now let us question the bride. Let us learn from this
blest soul, drawn to the divine mouth and fed at these
heavenly breasts, what we should do, and how we must
speak and behave, if our Lord should ever bestow on
us so great a favour. She answers: " I sat down under
His shadow Whom I desired, and His fruit was sweet
to my palate. (Cant 2:3) . . . He brought me into the cellar of
wine, He set in order charity in me."

2. She says: " I sat down under His shadow Whom I
desired." O my God! how this soul is drawn into and
inflamed by this Sun itself! She declares that she sat
under the shadow of Him Whom she desired. And
again she calls Him an " apple tree," and says "His
fruit is sweet to my palate." O souls who practise
prayer, ruminate upon these words! In how many different ways we can picture God! In how many manners
we can feed our souls on Him! He is the Manna Who
knows how to take whatever flavour we wish to taste. (Wis 26:21)
How heavenly is this shadow! Who can explain all
that our Lord signifies by it? I remember how the angel
said to our most blessed Lady: " The power of the Most
High shall overshadow thee." (Luke 1:33) How safely the soul must
feel protected when God shows it this immense grace!
Well may it sit down, assured against all danger!

3. Notice that, except in the case of people to whom
our Lord gives some special call, like St. Paul, whom He
at once raised to the heights of contemplation, manifesting Himself and speaking to the Saint in such a
way as to place him at once permanently in an advanced
state of holiness, God, as a rule — indeed, nearly always
— keeps these very sublime caresses and consolations
for those who have laboured greatly in His service.
These souls have longed for His love and striven to please
Him in every way, have fatigued themselves by many
years of meditation and search for their Bridegroom, and
are thoroughly weary of the world. They do indeed
" sit down " and rest in the truth, seeking neither comfort,
quiet nor rest except where they know these are really
to be found. " Resting under the protection of the
Almighty," (Ps xc. 1) they desire no other. How right they
are to trust in Him, for He fulfils all their desires. Happy
he who deserves to shelter beneath this shadow, even as
regards temporal matters, but happy in an infinitely
greater way when such matters relate to the soul itself,
as I have often been given to understand.

4. During the joy which I described, the spirit feels
itself utterly surrounded and protected by a shadow
and, as it were, a cloud of the Godhead from whence the
soul receives such a delicious influence and dew as, at
once and with good reason, to lose the weariness caused
by earthly things. This peace is so deep as to render
even breathing troublesome, the powers being so soothed
and quiescent that the will is disinclined to admit of any
thought, even though it is a good one, nor does it seek
for any, nor try to reflect. Such a person need not
endeavour to raise her hand, or stand to reach the fruit
— I mean she need not make use of the reason — for our
Lord gives her the apple from the tree to which she compares her Beloved, 7 already picked and even assimilated.
Therefore she declares: "His fruit is sweet to my
palate," for here the soul simply enjoys, without any
work of the faculties.

5. This may well be called the "shadow" of the
Divinity, for we cannot see it clearly here below, but only
veiled beneath this cloud, until the radiant Sun, by means
of love, sends out a message making known to the soul
that His Majesty is near in nearness ineffable. I know
that anyone who has experienced it will recognise how
truly this meaning may be ascribed to these words of
the Bride. I think the Holy Ghost must here be the
Medium between God and the soul, inspiring it with
such ardent desires that it becomes ignited by the divine
fire to which it is so close. What are these mercies, O
Lord, that Thou dost bestow upon the soul? Blessed
and praised be Thou for ever, tender Lover as Thou art I
Is it possible, my God and my Creator, that there are
souls who love Thee not? Unhappy creature that I am!
It is I who have lived so long without loving Thee! Why
did I not deserve to know Thee better? Now this divine
apple-tree bows its branches so that, from time to time,
the soul may gather its fruit by considering Christ's
marvels, and the multitude of mercies He has shown,
and may see and taste the fruit that our Lord Jesus
Christ produced by His Passion, when with wondrous
love He watered the tree with His precious blood.

6. The Bride told us that she joyed in the nourishment
from His breasts, and that the Bridegroom thus supported her when she was new to the divine mercies. Now
that she grows older, He makes her capable of receiving
still greater gifts, maintaining her with " apples," for
He wishes her to understand that she must work and
suffer. But He is not content even with this. It is a
wonderful thing, and we should often meditate upon
how, when He sees that a soul is all His own, serving
Him solely and free from all self-interest, simply because
He is its God and because of the love it bears Him,
He never ceases imparting Himself in different ways and
manners, befitting Him Who is Wisdom itself. After
the kiss of peace there seemed no more to give, yet the
favour I have just related is far more sublime. I have
not described it thoroughly, having only touched upon
the subject. You will find a much clearer explanation
in the book I mentioned, 8 if God is pleased that it
should be read.

7. Is there anything left to wish for after all I have
enumerated? Alas, how impotent are our desires to
obtain Thy wondrous gifts, Lord! How abject should
we remain, didst Thou merely give us that for which
we asked! Let us now see what else the bride says.

Conceptions Of The Love Of God On Some Verses Of The Canticle

Chapter VI.

Treats of the ecstasy of love, and of raptures, during which
the soul imagines that it is idle, while God " sets in
order charity within it," bestowing upon it heroic
virtues.

1. How God repays the soul's desire for suffering. 2. Christ the King. 3. The
wine. 4. He sets in order charity 5. The soul during divine union.
6. Love and the will. 7. Merits and grace coming from this prayer.
8. Our Lady overshadowed. 9. Our Lord's delight in the soul. 10. The
divine Goldsmith and the jewel. 11. Secrecy of divine union. 12. Its
effects upon the soul. 13. Zeal and love produced by it.

"THE KING BROUGHT ME INTO THE CELLAR OF WINE,
HE SET IN ORDER CHARITY IN ME."

1. Now that the bride is resting beneath the shadow
that she desires — as well she might desire it — what
more remains for which a soul so promoted can wish,
except that she may never lose what she possesses?
There seems to her nothing left for which to long, yet
there is still far more for our most holy King to bestow,
nor does He ever cease filling the heart that can hold
more. As I have already told you, daughters, and as I
wish you never to forget, God is not content to measure
His gifts by our petty desires. I have sometimes noticed
that when a person asks our Lord to give him some
means of meriting and suffering for Him, although he does
not ask for more than he thinks he can bear, yet His
Majesty, Who is able to increase our strength, repays
the resolve to serve Him by sending him so many trials,
persecutions and illnesses that the poor man does not
know what to do. 3 This happened to me when I was
very young, so that sometimes I used to say: " O God,
I did not ask for all that! " But He gave me such
fortitude and patience that I am astonished now at
thinking how I bore these crosses, which I would not
change for all the treasures of the world.

2. The Bride says: " The King brought me." How
the name of the almighty King dilates the heart which
recognises His powers and supremacy over all, and the
eternity of His kingdom! When the soul is in this condition, doubtless it realises something of the greatness
of this King, though to understand it completely is impossible during this mortal life.

3. The bride exclaims: " He brought me into the cellar
of wine, He set in order charity in me." I believe that
the grandeur of this particular favour is immense. A
person may be given a larger or a smaller draught, either
of a good or a superior kind, so that the soul is more
or less intoxicated or inebriated. Thus it is with our
Lord's favours. To one He gives a little of the wine
of devotion, to another more, to another still He gives
so full a cup that the spirit begins to rise above self and
sensuality and all earthly things. Again, God bestows
on souls either a great zeal for serving Him, impetuous
fervour, or ardent charity for others, rendering them too
inebriated to feel the severe trials through which they
pass. A great deal is implied by the bride's declaring
that " she was brought into the cellar of wine," from
which she emerged endowed with inestimable riches.

4. The King does not appear to bring her into the
cellar of wine and to leave her thirsting, but wishes her
to drink and to be inebriated as much as she chooses,
and to be intoxicated with all the wines that are in the
storehouse of God. Let her enjoy its pleasures, and
admire His grandeur, nor fear to lose her life by drinking
more than human weakness can bear, — let her die in
this paradise of delights! Blest is the death that purchases such a life! Indeed, this really is the case, 5 for
the soul, without knowing how, learns such marvellous
truths that it is beside itself, as the Bride says in the
words: '• He set in order charity in me! " O words
never to be forgotten by the soul which our Lord has
thus caressed! O sovereign mercy which we could
never buy unless God gave us the purchase-money!

5. True, the soul is not even awake enough to love,—
but blessed is the sleep, and happy the inebriation, which
make the Bridegroom supply what the soul cannot
do. He "sets" it in such wonderful "order" that,
though all its powers are dead or asleep, love remains
active. Without knowing how, it works, yet by the
ordinance of God it works in so wonderful a way that
it becomes one with the Lord of love, Who is God Himself. All this takes place with infinite purity, because
there is no obstacle in the senses or powers — I mean,
either in the understanding or the memory — nor does the
will assert itself.'

6. I have been wondering whether there is any difference
between the will and the love. I do not know whether
it is nonsense, but I think there must be, for it appears
to me that love is an arrow shot by the will, which, if
aimed with all its force, freed from all that is earthly,
and directed solely towards God, must wound His
Majesty in good earnest. When it has pierced God
Himself, Who is Love, it rebounds, having won the
precious prize I will describe. This is really the case,
as I have heard from those to whom our Lord has shown
the great favour of putting them, during prayer, into
this state of sacred inebriation and suspension of the •
faculties. From what can be observed, it is evident
that, at the time, such souls are transported out of
themselves; yet afterwards, if questioned as to what
they felt, they cannot describe it, for they did not
know, nor could they understand, this operation of
love. The great benefits thus gained by the soul are
demonstrated by the after-effects, by the virtues, lively
faith, and contempt of the world gained. But nothing
is known of how the soul obtains these gifts, nor what
it then enjoys, except in the first stage when it feels
excessive sweetness.

7. This is clearly what the Bride means, for the wisdom
of God here supplements what is lacking in the soul
and so ordains matters that it gains extraordinary graces
meanwhile; or, how could the soul, being carried out
of itself, and so absorbed that the powers are incapable
of action, otherwise gain any merit? Yet, is it possible
that God, while showing it so immense a favour, should
cause it to lose time and obtain nothing by it? Such
a thing is incredible. 7 Oh, these divine secrets! We
must submit our reason and own that it is utterly incapable of fathoming the wonders of the Lord.

8. It would be well to remember how our Lady the
Virgin acted, wise as she was. She asked the angel:
"How shall this be done?" and when he answered:
" The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power
of the Most High shall overshadow thee," she debated
no more about it. Being possessed of strong faith and
judgment, she recognised at once that, when these two
Powers intervened, there was room neither for inquiry
nor doubt. She was not like some learned men who
have not been led by God in this way of prayer and
cannot understand the first principles of spirituality.
They want to reduce everything to reason, measuring
all matters by their own intellects, so that it seems as
if they, with their knowledge, would be able to comprehend all the mysteries of God. If only they would
imitate in some degree the humility of the most blessed
Virgin! O my Lady! How perfectly Thou showest
us what takes place between God and the Bride, according
to the words of the Canticles! You know, my daughters,
how many quotations there are from this book in the
antiphons and lessons of the Office of our Lady we recite
weekly.' As for other souls, each one can interpret
these words for herself, in the sense in which God wishes
her to take them, and can easily ascertain whether she
has received any graces corresponding to the words of
the bride: "He set in order charity within me." Such
souls do not know where they have been nor how, during
so sublime a happiness, they pleased God, for they
gave Him no thanks for this favour.

9. O soul beloved by God! Trouble yourself no more!
While His Majesty raises you to this state and utters
such tender words as He often addresses to the Bride
in the Canticles — as for instance: " Thou art all fair,
O my love!" and many others, in which He shows
how He delights in her, we may feel sure that He will
not allow you to grieve Him at such a time, but will supply
for your incapacity that He may take still keener pleasure
in you. He sees that the Bride is quite lost to herself,
bereft of her senses for love of Him, and that the
vehemence of this affection has deprived her of the power
of thought, so that she may love Him better, and could
He bear to withhold Himself from one who wholly gives
herself to Him?

10. I think that His Majesty is here enamelling the
gold which He has refined by His gifts and tested in a
thousand different ways (which the soul itself could
describe), to prove the quality of its love for Him. The
soul, symbolised by the " gold," is meanwhile as motionless and as inactive as the precious metal itself. Divine
Wisdom, content with this, for few love Him thus vehemently, sets in the ore many jewels and countless enamelled
decorations. And what is the soul doing meanwhile?
Of this we know nothing, and there is no more to be
learnt, save what the Bride tells us: "He set in order
charity within me."

11. If the soul actually loves at the time, it does not
know how, nor does it understand what it loves. The
extreme affection borne for it by the King Who has
raised it to this sublime state must unite its love to
Himself in a way that the mind is not worthy of comprehending. These two loves have now become but one,
the love of the soul having become truly incorporated
with that of God. The intellect cannot attain so far
as to grasp it: in fact, the mind loses sight of the spirit
during this time, which never lasts long but passes
quickly. Meanwhile, God "sets the soul in order"
that it may know how to please Him, both then and
afterwards, but, as I repeat, without the mind being aware
of it. Yet later on the intellect recognises the fact on discovering that the soul is enamelled and set with the jewels
and pearls of the virtues. Then in its astonishment it
might well exclaim: " Who is she that cometh forth . . .
bright as the sun? " ll O true King! Well may the Bride
call Thee by this name, for in a single moment Thou
canst so endow and fill the soul with riches that it enjoys
them for evermore. What marvellous " order " love
sets in such a soul! "

12. I could mention good examples of this, for I have
witnessed several. I remember how God gave in three
days such great graces to a certain person u that, had I
not learnt by personal observation that they lasted
year after year, and that she continued to make progress,
I could not have believed in them, for they seemed to
me beyond credence. Another person received the
same graces in three months, — both of them were very
young girls. I have seen others who were long before
they obtained this favour, but I could mention several
cases resembling the two first described, and in which
the same thing happened. I spoke of the former to prove
to you that there are exceptions, although our Lord
seldom grants such favours unless a soul has passed
through long years of suffering. It is not for us to set
limits to a Lord so great, Who longs to confer His graces.
This is what usually happens when God favours
a soul with these graces — that is, when they really are
divine graces and not illusions or melancholia, or the
result of any natural effort, which is always detected
later on by the effects, as are also divine favours which
have resulted from God thus drawing near the soul, for
in the latter case the virtues are too vigorous and the
love too ardent to remain concealed. 15 Such a person
always helps other souls even when not intending to
do so. The King " set in order charity within me,"
and He so sets the soul in order that all love for this
world quits it, self-love changes into self-hatred and
affection is felt for kindred solely for the sake of God.
As for the love borne for enemies, it would be incredible
unless proved by facts. The soul's love for God has
grown so boundless as to constrain it beyond the limits
endurable by human nature, and, realising that she is
fainting and at the point of death, such a person exclaims:
" Stay me up with flowers, compass me about with
apples: because I languish with love." (Cant 2:5)

Conceptions Of The Love Of God On Some Verses Of The Canticle

Chapter VII.

Of a zealous love for God, which belongs to a very high
grade of love and is of two kinds. In the first, the
soul performs great deeds in God's service solely in
order to please Him; in the second, it desires and
asks for crosses in imitation of Christ crucified.

1. The soul languishes with love. 2. As does the body. 3. How death is warded
off. 4. The flowers symbolise good works. 5. Good works and self-interest.
6. Contrasted with pure zeal for God. 7. The woman of Samaria felt
this pure zeal. 8. Sublime favours product sublime virtues. 9. The
apple-tree of the cross and its fruit. 10. This favour produces love for our
neighbour. 11. Beginners do not understand this. 12. SI. Teresa's aim
in writing this treatise. 13. Gratitude due for such favours.

"STAY ME UP WITH FLOWERS, COMPASS ME ABOUT
WITH APPLES: BECAUSE I LANGUISH WITH LOVE."

I. Oh, what divine language in which to express my
meaning! Are you slain, then, by this sweetness, holy
Bride? I have been told that sometimes it is so excessive that it exhausts the soul and seems to deprive it
of life. And yet, you ask for flowers! What flowers are
these? They would bring you no relief, unless you beg
for them in order to end your life at once. And indeed,
when the soul has reached this state, it has no dearer
wish. Yet, this cannot be your meaning, for you say:
" Stay me up with flowers," and to ask to be " sustained,"
does not seem to me to ask for death, but rather to seek
for life that you may render some service to Him to
Whom you are conscious you owe so vast a debt.

2. Do not suppose, daughters, that I exaggerate when
I say that such a person is in a dying state, as I repeat
that this is really the case. Sometimes love is so strong
as to dominate over the powers of nature. I know
someone who during this state of prayer heard a beautiful
voice singing, and she declares that unless the song had
ceased she believes that her soul would have left her
body from the extreme delight and sweetness which our
Lord made her feel. His Majesty providentially stopped
the singer, for the person in this state of trance might
have died in consequence, yet she could not say a word
to check the songstress, for she was incapable of any
bodily action nor could she even stir. Although realising
her danger, she was like one in a bad dream who tries
to wake from it but cannot cry out, in spite of all her
efforts. 3 I was told for certain by a person who I know
is incapable of falsehood, that on several occasions she
was at the point of death in consequence of her extreme
longing to see God, and the excessive sweetness experienced by her at feeling herself caressed by Him and
melted by love for Him. While plunged in this delight,
her soul desired never to emerge from it, and death
was no longer painful, but most delicious, for she lived
by longing to die. The joys of this state of prayer and
degree of love are incompatible with any sort of pain.

3. The soul does not now wish to rouse itself, nor
would death be grievous, but would bring it great joy,
since it is for this that it longs. How blest the death
inflicted by such love! Did not His Majesty at times
bestow the light to see that it is well to live, weak nature
would succumb if this favour lasted long. Thus, to be
delivered from this overwhelming boon, the soul petitions
for another grace, crying: " Stay me up with flowers! "
These blossoms have a very different perfume from those
of the world.

[Note: Yepes, in a long letter to Fray Luis de Leon (Fuente, Obras,
vi. 139), says that though St. Teresa vehemently longed tor the sight of God, yet she wished to live in order to suffer for Him.
She cried, like the Bride in the Canticles: " Stay me up with
flowers," which she thus explained: Why, Bride of God, do
you ask to be strengthened so that you may live? What better
end could you desire than to die of love? Do you love and see
that love is killing you, and yet want to live? " Yes, for I
desire to preserve my lite in order to serve God and to suffer for
Him." Burning with this flame of love, St. Teresa asked our
Lord: "How can I live while I am dying?" His Majesty
replied: " Daughter, thou canst do so by reflecting that, once
this life is ended, thou canst no longer serve Me nor suffer for
Me " (Rel. ix. 19). By means of these " flowers " and " apples "
God strengthened her weakness and rendered life pleasant to her,
although she was sick of love. See also Exclam. ii. 3, 4.]

4. I understand by this that the Bride is begging that
she may perform great works in the service of God and
her neighbour, for the sake of which she gladly forfeits
her own joys and consolations. This appears proper
rather to the active than to the contemplative life, and
apparently she would lose rather than gain by her prayer
being granted; yet when the soul has reached this state,
Martha and Mary always act together, as we may say. 6
For the soul takes its part in the outward actions which
seem merely exterior, and which, when they spring from
this root, are lovely, odoriferous flowers growing on the
tree of a love for God solely for His own sake, unmixed
with self-interest. The perfume of these blossoms is
wafted to a distance, blessing many souls, and it is
lasting, for it does not pass away without working great
good.

5. I will explain myself more fully for your benefit.
A preacher delivers his sermon for the profit of souls,
yet is not so free from desire of worldly advantages as
not to try to please his audience, either to win honour
and credit for himself, or to obtain preferment by his
eloquence. It is the same in other ways; certain people
are anxious to help their neighbour notably and with a
good intention, still they are very wary about losing
by it or giving offence. They dread persecution, wish
to keep on good terms with royalty, the higher classes,
and the general public, and act with the moderation
highly rated by the world, but which screens many
imperfections under the name of prudence. God grant
that it is prudence!

6. Such people serve God and do great good, yet I do
not think that these are the flowers for which the Bride
begs, but that she is petitioning for an intention of seeking
solely for the honour and glory of God in all things.
For truly, as I have seen in several cases, souls raised by
Him to this state are as oblivious as if they no longer
existed, of their own loss or gain. 6 Their one thought
is to serve and please God, for, knowing his love for His
creatures, they delight in leaving their own comfort
and advantages to gratify Him by helping and teaching
their neighbour in order that they may profit his soul.
They never calculate as to whether they will lose by
it themselves, but think about the welfare of others
and of nothing else, forgetting themselves for the sake
of God in order to please Him better, — and they will
even lose their lives if need be, as did many of the
martyrs. Their words are interpenetrated with this
supreme love for God, so that they never think, or if
they think, they do not care, whether they offend men
by what they say. Such people do immense good.

7. Often have I thought of the woman of Samaria,
who must have been intoxicated with this draught.
How well her heart must have mastered our Lord's
teaching, since she actually left Him that she might
profit her fellow-citizens by winning them to Him!
How this striking instance enforces the reality of what
I have described! In return for her fervent charity,
her neighbours believed her words, and she witnessed
the great good that Christ worked in her town. I think
that to see souls helped by our means must be one of
the greatest joys in this world; then it is, as it appears
to me, that we eat the most delicious fruit of these flowers.
Blessed are the souls on whom our Lord bestows these
graces! How strictly are they bound to serve Him!
8. The holy Samaritan, divinely inebriated as she was,
cried aloud as she passed through the streets. I am surprised at men believing her, for she was only a woman
and must have belonged to the lower classes, as she went
to fetch water herself. She was indeed most humble, for
when our Lord told her of her sins, she showed no such
resentment as the world does nowadays, when people
can hardly endure to hear the truth, but she told Him that
He must be a prophet. In fact, her neighbours believed
her word, and, with no other evidence, large numbers
flocked out of the town to see our Lord. I maintain
that, in the same way, those persons do great good who,
after having been in intimate converse wish His Majesty
for several years, now that they receive caresses and
consolations from Him, do not hesitate to undergo
fatiguing labours for Him even at the cost of these delights
and joys. In my opinion these flowers • are good works,
springing from and produced as they are by the tree of
fervent love; therefore they have a far more lasting
perfume, and one such soul profits others in a wider
manner by its words and actions than do the deeds
and words of a number of people whose intentions are
soiled by the dust of human sensuality and are not
unmixed with self-interest.

9. These are the flowers that produce fruit! these are
the apples of which the Bride cries: "Compass me
about with apples! — Send me crosses, Lord! Send me
persecutions!" Indeed, she sincerely desires them and
comes forth from them with profit; for as she no longer
cares for her own pleasure, but solely for pleasing God,
she delights in imitating, in some degree, that most
painful life led by Christ. I believe that the apple tree
signifies the tree of the cross, for in another part of the
Canticles the words occur: "Under the apple tree I
raised thee up," and a soul that is compassed about
with crosses of sufferings expects to benefit greatly by
them. As a rule it does not enjoy the delight of contemplation, but finds keen joy in its trials by which the
bodily strength is not enervated and wasted as it usually
is by frequent suspension of the faculties during contemplation.

10. The Bride is right in making this request, for we
ought not to spend all our time in joy without any work
or suffering. I have often noticed in certain persons,—
there are very few of them on account of our sins, —
that as they advance farther in this prayer and receive
more consolations from our Lord, they become more
anxious about the happiness and salvation of their
neighbour, especially as regards his soul, for, as I said
above, they would sacrifice their lives again and again
to rescue one soul from mortal sin.

11. Who could teach this to people to whom our Lord
is only just beginning to give consolations? Perhaps
they fancy the others have made but little progress and
that to stay in a corner enjoying these favours is the
essential thing. I believe that it is by divine Providence
that such persons do not realise how high these other
souls have risen, for in their first fervour they would
rush after them. This would not be well for beginners,
because they are still children and need to be fed with
the milk of which I spoke. Let these souls keep close
to those divine "breasts": our Lord will take care,
when they are strong enough, to advance them farther,
but at present they would not do good to others as they
imagine, but would injure themselves.

12. From the book I spoke of you will have learnt
when the soul ought to wish to help others, and the
danger of doing so before the proper time; I will say
no more about it now. My intention, when I began
to write the present book, was to show you how to enjoy
the words of the Canticle of Canticles when you hear
them, and the way to meditate on the great mysteries
which they contain, obscure as they may seem to you.
It would be audacious of me to attempt to say more.
God grant that I have not committed this audacity
already, although this has been written only in obedience
to authority.

13. May it all tend to serve His Majesty! If there
is anything good in these writings you may be sure it
is not my own, as the sisters here can bear witness, for
they know how hurriedly I have written it, because
of my many duties. Beg His Majesty to teach me to
understand it by experience. Let any one among
you who thinks that she has received some of these
favours thank our Lord for them and ask Him to grant
them to me, so that she may not be the only one who
profits. May our Master uphold us with His hand, and
teach us ever to fulfil His will! Amen.

Conceptions of the Love of God, Exclamations, Maxims and Poems

Maxims Of St Teresa

1. Man's mind is like good ground which, left untilled,
grows thorns and thistles.

2. Always speak well of spiritual persons, such as
religious, priests and hermits.

3. Talk little when with many people.

4. Be modest in all your words and actions.

5. Never contend much, especially about trifles.

6. Speak with quiet cheerfulness to everyone.

7. Never ridicule anything.

8. Correct others prudently, humbly and with self-abasement.

9. Accommodate yourself to everyone's humour: be
cheerful with the happy, grave with the sad, — in short,
be all to all, that you may win all. (1 Cor ix. 22)

10. Think before you speak, recommending your
words earnestly to our Lord that you may say nothing
displeasing to Him.

[Note: Ribera relates that St. Teresa corrected her nuns very gravely
so that the offender was ashamed of her fault and anxious to
amend, yet was neither sad nor angry, but on the contrary felt
love and gratitude for her. But when the culprit showed resentment for several days, the Saint would kneel before her and beg
her pardon for having spoken too hastily. Ribera, bk. iv. ch.
xvi. and xxiv. ]

11. Never excuse yourself except in grave matters.

12. On no account mention anything to your own
credit, such as learning, good points or lineage, except
with the hope of doing some good by it: then, speak
humbly, remembering that such things are God's gift.

13. Do not exaggerate, but state your opinion humbly.

14. Introduce religious topics into all your talk and
interviews, which will prevent idle gossip and detraction.

15. Never affirm anything of the truth of which you
are uncertain.

16. Unless charity requires, do not obtrude your
opinion unasked.

17. Listen humbly as a learner to religious conversation, and take care to profit by it.

18. Obtain advice and help respecting your temptations, faults and aversions by revealing them candidly
to your superior and confessor.

19. Remain in your cell: do not leave it without good
cause, and then beg God for grace not to offend Him. 8

20. Do not eat or drink except at meal times and
then give God fervent thanks.

21. It is a great help to the soul to perform all your
actions as if you saw God present.

22. Listen to or speak ill of no one but yourself:
when the latter becomes a pleasure, you are making
good progress.

23. Perform all your actions for God; offer them to
Him, begging Him that they may promote His honour
and glory.

24. Do not laugh immoderately when you feel cheerful:
let your gaiety be humble, modest, genial and edifying.

25. Look upon yourself as the servant of all: see
Christ in others and you will show them respect and
reverence.

26. Obey as promptly as if Jesus Christ Himself spoke
through your prioress or superior. 10

27. Examine your conscience in all your actions and
at all times, endeavouring by the grace of God to amend
the failings you discover: thus you will attain perfection.

28. Do not reflect on other people's faults, but on
their virtues and your own defects.

29. Desire with all your heart to suffer for Christ
on every occasion and in every way.

30. Offer yourself fifty times a day to God with great
fervour and longing for Him.

31. Be most careful to keep your morning meditation
before your mind throughout the day, for it is most
helpful.

32. Be mindful of the sentiments with which our Lord
inspires you during prayer, and act upon the desires
He then gives you.

33. As far as possible avoid singularity, which is a
great evil in communities.

34. Read your Constitutions and Rule frequently, and
observe them strictly.

35. Recognise the providence and wisdom of God in
all created things, and praise Him for them.

36. Detach your heart from all things; seek God,
and you will find Him.

37. Never show outwardly devotion which you do
not feel, but you need tell no one which devotions do
not appeal to you.

38. If possible avoid revealing your interior devotion.
" My secret is for myself," said St. Francis and St.
Bernard.

[Note: Isaias xxiv. 16: Secretum meum tnihi. St. Francis of Assisi
was in the habit of keeping silence about any divine favours he
enjoyed, saying: " Secretum meum mihi." However, on receiving
the impression of the stigmata, he consulted his brethren on the
subject in general terms, and following the advice of Brother
Illuminatus, he related to them the vision. (St. Bonaventure in
the Life of St. Francis.) ]

39. Do not discuss your food and whether it is well
or badly cooked. Remember the gall and vinegar of
Jesus Christ.

40. Never speak at meals nor raise your eyes to look
at anyone.

41. Think of the heavenly banquet and its food, which
is God Himself, and of the guests, who are the angels;
raise your mind to that feast and long to be there.

42. Never speak in the presence of your superior, — in
whom you must see Jesus Christ, — without need, or
without deep reverence.

43. Do nothing that the whole world might not see.

44. Never compare people with one another: it is
odious.

45. Receive reprimands with interior and outward
humility and pray for your admonisher.

46. If one superior gives you some order, do not object
that you have received a contrary command from
another authority, but obey, believing that they both
acted from a good motive.

47. Do not evince curiosity by talking and asking
questions about matters which do not concern you.

48. Keep in mind your past life and present tepidity,
to obtain repentance; discover why you are unfit for
heaven: you will thus live in fear, the source of great
blessings.

49. Always accede to your sisters' requests, unless contrary to obedience; answer them humbly and gently.

50. Ask for no special food nor clothing without absolute necessity.

51. Never cease to humble and mortify yourself in
every way as long as you live.

52. Accustom yourself to make frequent acts of love,
which inflame and melt the soul.

53. Make acts of all the other virtues.

54. Offer all things to the Eternal Father in union
with the merits of His Son Jesus Christ.

55. Be indulgent to others, rigorous to yourself.

56. On the feasts of any Saint, think of his virtues and
ask God to give them to you.

57. Be very careful about your nightly examination
of conscience.

58. Consider during your morning prayer before Holy
Communion that, miserable as you are, you are to receive
God, and at night reflect that you have received Him.

59. No superior should give a correction while angry,
but should wait until she feels calm, when her reproof
may be beneficial.

60. Strive earnestly for perfection and devotion, performing all your actions by their aid.

61. Cultivate the fear of God, which makes the soul
contrite and humble.

62. Remember how soon men change and how little
one can trust them, and cling closely to God Who never
changes.

63. Treat of your soul with a spiritual and learned
confessor and follow his advice in everything.

64. Whenever you receive Holy Communion beg
some gift from God for the sake of His great mercy in
visiting your poor soul.

65. However numerous may be your Patron Saints,
always rank St. Joseph first, for he has great power
with God.

[Note: Towards the end of her life (ca. 1581?) St. Teresa wrote to
Mother Mary Baptist, prioress at Valladolid: "I no longer
govern as I used to do. I now rule entirely by love. I do not
know whether it is because no one gives me any reason to treat
her otherwise, or if it is because I have heard that it is the best
method." ]

66. When sad or troubled do not omit your accustomed
prayers or penances, which the devil is then striving to
make you leave off. Pray and mortify yourself more
than usual and you will find that God will soon come
to your aid.

67. Do not discuss your temptations and faults with
the least advanced in the house, which would harm you
both, but confide them to the holiest among your sisters.

68. Remember you have but one soul; you will die
but once; you have only one life, which is short, and
which you must live on your own account; there is
only one heaven, which lasts for ever, — this will make
you indifferent to many things.

69. Desire to see God; fear to lose Him; grieve to be
so far from Him; rejoice to be brought near Him, —
thus you will live in profound peace.

Miscellaneous

Papers Found In St. Teresa's Breviary.

1. On Wednesday, the feast of St. Berthold of the
Order of Carmel, on March 29, 1515, at five o'clock in
the morning, was born Teresa of Jesus, the sinner.

2. On the seventeenth of November, the octave of
St. Martin in the year 1569, I have lived, for the object
known to me, twelve years for the thirty- three years lived
by our Lord; twenty-one are lacking. Written at
Toledo in the Carmel of the glorious St. Joseph.

[Note: These papers, like the famous " Bookmark," were found in
the breviary (edition of Venice, 1568) used by St. Teresa till the
end of her life. The first notice presents some difficulties. The
feast of St. Berthold was, and still is, kept on March 29, which
in 1515 fell on a Thursday; but as we know from an attestation
by her father that the Saint was born on Wednesday, March 28,
at half-past five in the morning, it is probable that in the above
paper she meant to say " eve of St. Berthold " instead of " feast." ]

[Note: St. Martin, Pope and Martyr, whose feast, now kept on
November 12, was formerly celebrated on the tenth. It had an
octave in the Carmelite order, because one of the principal churches
in Rome, belonging to the Carmelites, is dedicated to him, viz.
San Martino ai Monti. ]

3. I for Thee, and Thou for me thirty- three years.

4. Twelve have I lived for me [Thee?], and not for
my own will.

5. St. Chrysostom says that veritable martyrdom
consists not only in the shedding of blood, but that a
complete withdrawal from sin, and the practice and
following of the Divine commandments, constitute martyrdom. True patience in adversities also makes us
martyrs.

6. Our will gains its value from union with that of
God when we only will what His Majesty wills.

7. To possess charity in perfection constitutes glory.

8. Advice as to how to profit by persecution.

To ensure that persecutions and insults should bear
good fruit and profit the soul, it is well to consider that
they are done to God before they are done to me, for the
blow aimed at me has already been aimed at His Majesty
by sin. Besides, the true lover ought to have made the
compact with the Bridegroom that she will be wholly
His, and care nothing for self. If, then, our Spouse bears
with this injury, why should we not bear with it? Our
sorrow ought to be for the offence against His Majesty,
as the wrong does not affect our soul but only our
body of clay, which so richly deserves to suffer.

9. To die and suffer should be the goal of our desires.

10. No one is tempted above what he is able to suffer.

11. Nothing happens without the Will of God. " My father, the chariot of Israel and the driver thereof."

Miscellaneous

The Last Days Of Saint Teresa.

When Saint Teresa had finished her last and, perhaps,
her most difficult foundation, that of Burgos, she asked
our Lord whether it was safe for her to leave the place
yet. He answered: " What dost thou fear now that
the foundation is made? It is safe for thee to go at
once," and He told her that she would soon have far
greater sufferings to bear than any she had gone through
there. She immediately made her preparations for
starting, taking with her the little novice, Teresita, — the
daughter of her brother Lorenzo, who was then sixteen
years old and had already been a novice for six years, —
and Sister Anne of St. Bartholomew, lay-sister, whom
she had chosen for her companion and nurse. The
parting with the nuns was more touching than usual,
for she made it a rule to suppress all emotion, but now
she allowed the prioress and sisters to kiss her hand and
spoke a tender word to each.

The Saint left Burgos about the end of July, 1582,
and wished to return at once to Avila for Teresita's profession, but the Provincial, Father Gratian, bade her
stay for a month at the convent of Palencia, founded
two years earlier. She was cordially received by the
young prioress, Isabel of Jesus, and the nuns, found the
discipline of the community all that she could desire,
and tells in her letters how her health was improved by
the cool cell they gave her, and the rest and peace. She
had suffered for months with a violent fever and an
open wound in her throat which almost prevented her
from swallowing; but now that was better and she
gathered a little strength for the Via dolorosa which was
to end in the Fatherland. It was probably from Palencia
that she wrote to Mother Mary of St. Joseph, prioress of
Seville: "Now, my daughter, I can make the same
petition as St. Simeon, for ' I have seen what I desired '
in the Order of our Lady the Virgin, so I beg you and
the sisters not to pray that I may live longer, but that
I may go to my rest, for I am of no more use to you."

When her stay was over she set out, by direction
of the provincial, for Valladolid, notwithstanding the
sultry heat of August. " God willed that the whole
journey should be a succession of sufferings," says Anne
of St. Bartholomew. Her brother Lorenzo had left four
hundred ducats to St. Joseph's convent at Avila to
build a side chapel in which he was to be buried. After
his death the family tried to set aside the will on the
ground of its having been found already opened. The
prioress of Valladolid, Mary Baptist (de Ocampo), who
was the daughter of a cousin of the Saint and who had
herself largely contributed towards the foundation of
that convent, sided with her relations and treated St.
Teresa unkindly. The family lawyer called upon the
Saint during her stay at Valladolid and grossly insulted
her, telling her that she was not what she appeared to be,
but that many persons in the world would have behaved
far better. She meekly replied: "May God reward
you for the favour you are doing me."

Her visit ended on the fifteenth of September. Keenly
as she must have suffered, she showed nothing but affection and content as she blessed the community and bade
farewell. ' ' My daughters, ' ' she said, ' ' it consoles me greatly
on leaving this house to witness the perfection practised
in it, and the poverty and mutual charity in which you
live. If you persevere in this, God will grant you great
graces. Let each of you strive to lack nothing which
tends to the perfection of the religious life. Do not
perform its duties out of routine, but with heroic fervour,
daily striving to attain to higher virtue. Desire to do
great things: this is very beneficial, even when we
cannot carry our wishes into action." 3

Fresh trials awaited Saint Teresa at Medina del
Campo, her next halt on the homeward journey. In the
refectory, on the evening of her arrival, she called the
attention of the prioress, Mother Alberta-Bautista, to
some slight matter which required correction. The
prioress, who was in poor health, resented the observation and showed marked coolness. The Mother, deeply
grieved, was too disturbed to be able to eat, and passed
a sleepless night. She set off, fasting, the next morning,
not, as she had hoped, to Avila, but to Alba de Tormes,
under the conduct of Father Antonio of Jesus, who had
been the first Carmelite friar to embrace the Reform.
She had found him waiting for her at Medina, at the
urgent request of the Duchess of Alba, who had sent her
carriage to take the Saint to her own residence at Alba,
to make the visit promised her a year before, and also
to bring a blessing by her presence on the duchess's
daughter-in-law, who was about to become a mother.
Teresita tells us that her aunt resigned herself in perfect
peace to this change in her plans. Considering the barbarous state of the inns at which she would have to stay,
it was unfortunate that her hostess forgot to send provisions with the carriage. "Ill as she was," says Anne
of St. Bartholomew, " with a mortal sickness which
ended her life a few days later, I could get her no food
all that day to sustain her strength. When night came,
we reached a miserable little village, and the Mother
became faint. She exclaimed: ' Daughter, let me have
something to eat, I am fainting! ' but I had nothing but
some dried figs, and she had the fever. I gave someone
four reales to purchase some eggs, cost what they might,
but no money could buy them and the coins were brought
back to me. I looked at the Saint, who seemed half
dead, and finding that I could get nothing, I burst into
tears. Words could not express my grief; I was heartbroken, and could do nothing but weep at seeing her in
such distress, dying before my very eyes without my
being able to help her. But with the patience of an
angel she comforted me, saying: ' Don't cry, daughter;
the figs are very good; how many poor people are worse
off! God wills that it should be so.' "

Next day the travellers met with no better fortune, as
nothing could be got in the village they reached except
some cabbage cooked with onions, of which the holy
Mother made her only meal. They arrived at Alba about
six o'clock in the evening of the twentieth of September.

Hardly had they entered the town when a messenger
came to announce that the young duchess had just given
birth to a son. " Thank God! the ' Saint ' won't be
wanted now! " exclaimed Teresa. 8 Notwithstanding
her promise of going straight to the castle, she was so
utterly exhausted that Father Antonio bade her enter
the convent at once.

Her daughters received her with the greatest love
and reverence. She gave them her blessing, presented her
hand to be kissed, and spoke a tender, affectionate word
to each. They persuaded her to retire to rest, for she
was in a burning fever and owned that she felt utterly
prostrate, as if all her bones were broken. As they
undressed her and laid her worn-out body on the hard
straw mattress, — for the rule was that no nun, however
ill, might lie on any other, — she exclaimed: ' ' God help
me, daughters, how tired I feel! I have not gone to
bed so early for twenty years! How I thank Him for
letting me be with you now that I am taken ill! "

Next morning she rose at the usual hour, heard Mass
and received Holy Communion, and examined the whole
convent. She attended the community duties, gave
private interviews to the nuns, and continued to do so
for the next eight days. Her health was sometimes better,
sometimes worse, but the doctors whom the prioress
called in declared that recovery was impossible. "It was
a hard sacrifice for me," relates the faithful lay-sister,
who had tended her through all her sufferings for years,
" all the harder because we were at Alba, and because
I knew I should have to return to Avila without her.
But, not to speak of our love for one another, I had
another great consolation: I constantly saw Jesus
Christ in her soul, united to it as though they were already
united in heaven. The sight filled me with the deep
reverence that we ought to feel in the presence of God.
Indeed, it was heaven to serve her, and the keenest pain
to witness her sufferings. The fourteen years I had
been with her might have been but a single day. The
Saint, on her part, seemed so well pleased with my
poor services that she would not be without me. Truly,
during the last five days before her death I was more
dead than alive."

Though the holy Mother did her best to conceal the
desperate state of her health, it soon became apparent
to all the nuns. On September 29, during Mass, she
became suddenly worse, and had to take to her bed,
from which she never rose again. She asked to be put
in a small cell in the infirmary upstairs, with a little
window overlooking the high altar from which she
could hear Mass. During the few days she remained
there she spoke but little, passing the time in silent
prayer and adoration. Teresita relates how acutely she
suffered meanwhile both from exterior and interior trials,
for God permitted her to feel her malady and other
troubles most severely. She was then prioress of St.
Joseph's convent at Avila, and the dire state of poverty
in that house disturbed her greatly as she lay helpless.
She used to exclaim: "How shall we get the nuns bread
to eat? " Four or five days before her death she said
to her infirmarian: " Mind, my daughter, as soon as you
see that I am a little better, you are to get a carriage,
put me in it, and take me back to Avila."

The nuns took it in turns to watch beside their Mother,
and spent the rest of the time in prayer and works of
penance, with outstretched hands imploring God not
to take her away from them. They moved about the
convent as under a heavy weight, vainly endeavouring
to drive away their mournful forebodings. During the
last year strange things had occurred which seemed to
foreshadow some far-reaching event. Mysterious lights
had appeared in choir during Matins and the time for
private prayer; in the summer a very gentle, sweet sigh
had often been heard there: later on they recognised it
as being like that their Mother breathed shortly before she
gave forth her spirit. One night, not long before, Sister
Catherine-Baptist, while praying at the foot of a cross
in the court of the convent, had seen a star in the sky,
much brighter than the rest, which descended until it
rested over the high altar. 6 One sister perceived something bright, like crystal, pass before the window of St.
Teresa's cell, and another beheld two lights burning in it.
On the feast of St. Michael the Saint lay absorbed in
ecstasy and prayer the whole day and night, during which
our Lord revealed to her that the hour of her reward
was near. She had long foreknown the year, but not
the exact date. God already began to testify to her
sanctity of various miracles. Her body often gave
forth a fragrance perceived by all but herself. The
dowager Duchess of Alba, who, as a benefactress, had
the right to enter the enclosure, came to visit her and to
exercise her privilege of personally nursing the invalid.
The Duchess was announced just as the Saint had been
rubbed with an oil prescribed by the physician of so
disagreeable an odour that the whole room was poisoned
directly the bottle was opened. " Our holy Mother was
greatly disturbed at so inopportune a visit," relates Sister
Mary of St. Francis, " but I said to her: ' Never mind,
Mother, anyone would suppose that you had been sprinkled
with agua de los dngeles.' 7 'Thank God, daughter!'
she answered, ' wrap me up, wrap me up, so that the bad
smell may not annoy the Duchess. How I wish she had
not come just at this moment! ' The visitor sat down
beside her, embracing her warmly. When our Mother
begged her to move away on account of the remedy, she
exclaimed: ' There is no scent except a most delicious
one. I thought agua de los dngeles had been sprinkled
about the room, which might have done you harm.'" 8
Shortly afterwards a nun suffering from a bad headache
knelt to pray beside the Saint, and taking the holy
Mother's hand, laid it on her forehead, whereupon the
pain immediately disappeared.

Saint Teresa lay silent and peaceful, thanking her
daughters for their care, and the doctors for their remedies,
however painful or nauseous, with the same sweet smile.
She slept but little on the night of October i, and sent for
Father Antonio at daybreak to hear her confession. After
giving her absolution, the poor old priest, who must have
begun to regret having made her take this fatal journey,
fell on his knees before her in the presence of all the nuns,
imploring her to beg our Lord not to take her so soon.
" Hush, Father," she replied, "why do you ask me such
a thing? There is no more need of me in this world."

Henceforth, she began to prepare for death and to
speak of it to others. When left alone with her devoted
infirmarian, she said: " Daughter, the hour is come! "
" The word pierced my heart like a dagger," writes
the poor sister. " From that moment I never left the
cell. I asked the nuns for whatever she wanted and
gave it to her; it comforted her to have me with her."

Although St. Teresa had always given spiritual advice
to her daughters, she did so with more love and earnestness than ever now that she was leaving them.

During the afternoon she was seized with an agonising
pain in the chest; the doctors, who were hurriedly called
in, ordered that she should be carried to a warmer cell.
She only smiled at their efforts, knowing their uselessness.
Cupping was prescribed, to her great joy, for it was
painful, and she, who had yearned for sufferings all her
life, died as she had lived, says Yepes.

At five o'clock on the eve of St. Francis of Assisi she
asked for the Holy Viaticum. The nuns dressed her in
her veil and white mantle, decorated the cell with lights,
and all knelt around her holding lighted tapers. There
was some delay in bringing the Blessed Sacrament, and
while they were waiting, the Saint, with clasped hands
and tearful eyes, said to them: "My daughters and
senoras, forgive me for the bad example I have set you,
and do not imitate me who have been the greatest sinner
in the world and the most lax member of the Order in
keeping the Constitutions. I beg you, for the love of
God, to observe them perfectly and to obey your Superiors.
If you do this, as you are bound to do, no other miracles
will be required for your canonisation." The sisters
wept and prayed in silence until they heard the tinkling
of the bell which announced that the priest was bringing
the Blessed Sacrament. Although for the last two days
the help of two nuns had been required to lift the holy
Mother in bed, she now rose quickly of her own accord
and knelt upon the mattress. So strong was the impulse
of her love, says Yepes, that, had she not been prevented,
she would have cast herself upon the ground to receive
her Master. Her face was majestic and beautiful, and
looked far younger than her real age. With clasped
hands and soul aflame with love, her face illumined with
joy, she began, like a swan of matchless whiteness, as
her life was ebbing away, a song far sweeter than any
she had sung before. " O my Bridegroom, my Master! "
she exclaimed, " at last the longed-for hour has come!
now it is time for us to see one another! My Master, it
is time to set forth! Blessed be this hour, and may Thy
will be done! Now is the hour for me to leave this
desert that my soul may rejoice in Thee Whom it has so
ardently desired." She would have continued her.
colloquy much longer, had not her superior bidden her
under obedience to be silent, lest she should harm
herself. After she had received the Viaticum, she, as a
true daughter of Spain, thanked God with the greatest
fervour for having made her a child of the Church and
permitted her to die within its fold, repeating again
and again: " After all, Lord, I am a child of the Church! "
And this was one of her greatest consolations as she lay
on her deathbed.

Then she pleaded with deep contrition for forgiveness
of her sins, saying that she hoped to be saved by the
merits of the Blood of Christ, and begging the nuns to
intercede with God that it might be so, and that she
might be delivered from purgatory. She frequently
repeated the words: Sacrificium Deo spiritus contribulatus, cor contritum et humiliatum, Deus, non despicies.
Ne projicias me a facie tua, et spiritum sanctum tuum ne
auferas a me. Cor mundum crea in me, Deus. But
more often than all the rest, and with deeper feeling,
she reiterated: Cor contritum et humiliatum, Deus, non
despicies. Her daughters asked her to say some parting
words, but she only charged them once more to keep their
Constitutions and obey their superiors.

As night drew on she asked for Extreme Unction,
which was administered at half-past nine. She received
it with the greatest reverence and devotion, joining in
the responses and prayers, and thanking our Lord again
for having made her a child of the Church. When
Father Antonio inquired whether she wished her body
to be taken to Avila, she seemed annoyed at the question
and answered: ' ' What, my Father, is that for me to
decide? Have I anything of my own? Will they not
give me a little earth here? " One of the nuns said to
her: 'You are right, Mother, for our Lord had no
home of His own." — " You may well say that," replied
the Saint, " your words comfort me greatly." ls

She passed the night in acute pain, but uttered no
complaint, and from time to time was heard to murmur:
Cor contritum et humiliatum, Deus, non despicies, or softly
whisper the name of Jesus. These were her last words,
for when Sister Anne of St. Bartholomew changed her
linen at daybreak she could no longer speak, but only
thanked her by a smile. " Shortly afterwards," that
sister writes, " Father Antonio told me to go and take
some food. While I was away, the holy Mother kept
anxiously looking from side to side, and made a sign of
acquiescence when the Father asked if she wanted me.
They called me and I hastened to return. When she
saw me come back, she smiled sweetly, and with a loving
gesture grasped my hand and placed her head within my
arms, where I held it until she died. Meanwhile, I seemed
more like the dying person than she did, for the Bridegroom so inflamed her love for Him that she only sighed
for the moment when the bonds of her body being loosed
she could enjoy Him for ever."

At seven o'clock in the morning her agony began,
although she gave no signs of distress or pain. Turning
on to her left side, facing the nuns, she lay like the
dying Magdalene, gazing at the crucifix which she held,
and still clasped after death until it was taken from
her for her burial. Perhaps the exquisite poem, the
!' Address of a dying nun to her crucifix," which she
had written some little time before, gives a clue to her
thoughts as she lay dying. She remained thus during
fourteen hours, moving neither hand nor foot, nor showing
any signs of suffering.

"I do not think I ever saw her look so lovely in my
life," testified Sister Mary of St. Francis; "her face was
very beautiful, glowing and shining like the sun, and the
many wrinkles time, old age and suffering had stamped
on it disappeared completely." As the hours went on,
it brightened with a growing splendour that at length
illuminated the whole cell, and was reflected in the face
of Anne of St. Bartholomew. She was absorbed in
prayer, in deepest peace and quiet, sometimes appearing
enraptured, sometimes surprised as if something wonderful
was shown her, and again she seemed to answer one who
spoke to her, but she was always calm and her face
shone like the moon in the fullness of its beauty. At
intervals a delicious perfume came from her. Thus she
remained, recollected in God, astonished at the new
mysteries she was discovering, and overjoyed at the
possession already beginning to be realised of Him for
Whom she had so fervently longed. Just before she
died, Sister Catherine of the Conception, who was seated
in the cloister leading to the infirmary, heard a loud noise
as of a crowd of people rejoicing and exclaiming, and
saw a large number of shining figures clothed in white
enter the room. The Ten Thousand Martyrs, to whom
the Saint had special devotion, were redeeming their
promise made to her years ago in a vision, of coming to
fetch her to heaven.

At the same moment the face of the infirmarian shone
so brightly as she gazed at something she saw that the
startled nuns forgot to watch their Mother as they
looked at her. The lay-sister told afterwards how, while
she held the Saint in her arms, in anguish about her life,
a great glory and light descended over the dying foundress, and our Lord appeared standing at the foot of the
bed, surrounded by angels and the Blessed. It was
revealed to her that the soul of Teresa was now to be
fetched away unless she wished her to stay. Anne's
pain and sorrow were changed into deep resignation, so
that she begged pardon of God, saying: " Lord, if Thou
wouldst consent to leave her for my consolation I would
not wish it, now that I have seen Thy glory; therefore
I beseech Thee not to leave her for a moment longer,
deeply as I feel her loss! " The light died out of Anne's
face; the nuns heard three very gentle sighs escape
from their Mother's lips, so gentle that they could hardly
be detected, — so sweet that they seemed like the breath
of one lost in prayer, — and her soul had returned to its
Creator.

From the moment she died our Lord began to glorify
His bride by miraculous manifestations of her holiness.
One of the nuns saw her soul fly from her lips to heaven
in the form of a dove of dazzling whiteness; another
beheld it rise in the shape of a crystal globe. Then, as the
Bridegroom bade her " arise, for the winter is past and
the flowers have appeared," an almond tree, long since
dead and partly buried beneath bricks and mortar, burst
into its lovely pink blossoms, the harbingers of spring.

Thus died the great Saint of Spain, on October 4, the
feast of St. Francis of Assisi, 1582, aged sixty-seven years
and six months, having been professed nearly forty-six
years, the first twenty-six of which she had spent as a
nun of the convent of the Incarnation at Avila, and the
remaining twenty as the foundress of the Discalced
Carmelites.

The doctors attributed her death to hemorrhage of
the chest, brought on by the hardships of the journey,
but her contemporary historian, Yepes, says that it was
caused by a violent impulse of divine love. The Bull
of the canonisation declares this to have been the fact.
The Saint herself revealed the true cause to Catherine of
Jesus, prioress of Veas, who was so ill that the nuns
durst not inform her of St. Teresa's death; but the
Saint appeared to her in a vision, saying she had gone to
enjoy the presence of God, having experienced so vehement
a longing for Him that her soul left the body. A prior
of her Order was favoured with a similar revelation. She
herself, when speaking of these impetuosities, declares
that there is great danger of death in such a state.

The nuns, in the deepest sorrow, knelt beside their
Mother's couch all night, kissing her hands and even her
habit, and imprinting on their memory the features that
were so soon to be hidden from them. One sister was
cured of an infirmity by touching her, another recovered
her lost eyesight by placing the Saint's hand upon her
eyes. The face of the holy foundress grew in peace and
beauty, and the fragrance arising from her became so
overpowering that the sisters were obliged to open the
casement. Sister Catherine Baptist, who had lost her sense
of smell, grieved at not perceiving it, reverently kissed
the dead body, and it was instantly restored to her."
Before daybreak of the following day, — which was
counted October 15, owing to the reform of the Calendar, —
the bells of Alba announced the death of Teresa of Jesus,
and all the citizens exclaimed: " The Saint has gone to
heaven."

At a later hour Father Antonio, with the Franciscan
fathers and the clergy of the town, entered the enclosure.
The sacred remains were laid upon a bier covered with gold
brocade, as the Saint had seen in a vision when she was
thought to be dead, more than forty years before. She
was carried to the convent door, where the nuns, holding
lighted candles, knelt and took farewell of their Mother.
Outside were assembled the Duchess of Alba with her
chaplain Don Sancho Davila, afterwards bishop of Jaen,
the Marquis of Cerralvo, Juana de Ahumada (one of St.
Teresa's sisters) with her husband and children, and
many of the nobility, besides a large crowd of citizens.
Those who were fortunate enough to get near the bier
perceived the mysterious fragrance which the dead body
continued to give forth. " God bless me," exclaimed the
simple convent gardener, " this Saint smells like quinces,
lemons and jasmine."

The burial was to take place beneath the grating separating the nuns' choir from the body of the chapel, but
as there is no direct communication between the interior
of the convent and the chapel it was necessary to take
the body out of the convent and carry it across the
square into the chapel. As in many conventual chapels
in Spain, there were two choirs in that of Alba, one
above the other, both facing what was then the high
altar, but is now, since the rebuilding of the church, a
side chapel. The visitor will easily discover the portion
which in St. Teresa's time was the entire church; it is
now simply one of the bays, the present church standing
at right angles with the old one. The former choirs are
on the Gospel side of the new church, and the old high
altar is now a side chapel on the Epistle side. When the
original church was being erected, the foundress, Teresa de
Laiz, had caused a deep vault to be constructed beneath
the choir grating; St. Teresa directed this to be reserved
for " the deposit," which led the nuns to think that she
referred to some great gift of the founders." The event
proved that she foreknew that she herself was to find
there her resting-place. After her death the body was
not opened nor embalmed, but was simply laid in a wooden
shell into which the nuns, fearing that Avila would claim
the relics of the holy Mother, caused lime to be thrown
and water to be poured over it, so that the body might
be quickly consumed.

The Requiem mass was celebrated with great solemnity,
the coffin closed and lowered into the grave, and so
enormous a quantity of earth, bricks and stones thrown
on it that - the lid was broken. Some masons spent
two entire days in cementing the vault. This done,
there seemed to be no ground for fear that the precious
"deposit" could ever be removed.

Anne of St. Bartholomew, who dressed and made
ready the sacred body, relates how her faithful heart found
consolation in this great loss. " I was by nature very
affectionate, and loved her more than I can say. I was
also fond of other nuns whom I knew to be advanced
in perfection, and to whom the Saint was attached.
Sometimes she warned me that such devotedness was not
good for my soul and that I ought to free myself from
it, yet I had not succeeded in doing so before the hour
when God took her from me. Then she obtained this
grace for me, and I have been detached ever since.
Indeed I seem to possess no liberty in the choice of those
for whom I care. Sometimes- it seems to me that I
am all alone in the world, and that, if I love any, I love
them in God and for God alone. I felt as calm while
attending to her holy body as if her death had been
nothing to me. I should have wished to remain at Alba,
but neither the prioress nor the nuns of Avila, to whose
community I belonged, would hear of it. When they
summoned me there I felt rather disturbed, but the
Saint appeared to me, saying: ' Obey, my daughter,
and leave this place.' "

Teresita, too, returned to Avila, where she made her
profession on November 5, 1582. Many other convents wished to have her as the representative of her
holy aunt, but the Saint appeared to Anne of St. Bartholomew and said Teresita was to remain in the convent
of St. Joseph — where, in fact, she spent the remainder of
her life, dying in the odour of sanctity on September 10,
1610. She had led a most holy life and suffered greatly
from interior trials, in which she never failed to be consoled by Saint Teresa. Anne of St. Bartholomew says
she saw in spirit the soul of Teresita entering paradise,
led by her aunt.

Ribera thus describes Saint Teresa's appearance:
" The holy Mother was tall; beautiful when young, she
was still handsome in old age. She had a fine figure
and a very white skin; her face was round and full,
well shaped and proportioned, pink and white in colour.
It became flushed while she was at prayer, which rendered
her extremely beautiful; at other times it was very
calm and serene. Her hair was black and curly, her
forehead smooth and broad; her auburn eyebrows were
wide and very slightly arched. Her eyes, black, lively
and charming under their heavy lids, were not very large,
but exceedingly well set; full of gaiety when she laughed,
and very grave when she wished to look serious. Her
nose was small with very little bridge, the point rounded
and inclined to be aquiline, the nostrils were small and
distended. Her mouth was neither large nor small, the
upper lip thin and straight, the under one full and rather
drooping, very pretty and rosy. She had a fine set of
teeth, a well-made chin, ears of a moderate size, a full
throat, rather short than long, and small, delicately shaped
hands. Three little moles on the left side of her face
greatly enhanced her beauty; one was just below the
bridge of her nose, another between the nose and the
mouth, the third a little beneath it. On the whole she
was very handsome and walked most gracefully; she
looked so sweet and amiable that everyone who saw her
loved her."

To this sketch Yepes adds: "At times rays of light
and splendour seemed to come from her eyes and forehead, filling those who watched her with awe. . . .
When receiving Holy Communion, and even before she
had swallowed the sacred Host, her face became extraordinarily beautiful and transparent. She looked so
majestic and grave that I felt the deepest reverence for
her; it was easy to see Who was her Guest, and how she
had received Him."

Father Jerome Gratian tells the tale in his Peregrination 27 of the only portrait painted of the Saint from life.
" In the convent of Seville I twice mortified the Mother
Teresa in a way she felt acutely. She had asked me to
do so, and I wondered how to impose any real mortification on her, for the ordinary kind, such as going to
the refectory carrying a cross on her shoulders, pleased
and delighted her. ... It happened at the time that
Fray Juan de la Miseria, a lay-brother, 28 was painting
the cloister; I ordered him to take her portrait and bade
her sit to him. She felt this keenly, for she was extremely
humble and did not want people to remember her or see
her likeness. As for her discomfort, and the want of
consideration and courtesy with which she met from
Brother Juan, who very often would not let her turn or
move her head for a long while at a stretch, she was
much more indifferent on that score. The picture was
a bad one when it was done, for the friar was not a first-class artist. When Mother Teresa saw it, she said to
him, in her graceful way: ' God forgive you, Brother
John! after all the trouble you have given me, you have
made me blear-eyed and ugly.' ' Father Gratian adds
that this was the only means of getting a portrait of the
Saint, for neither she nor he himself would have consented to its being painted in any other manner. The
picture remains at Seville, but has been retouched; the
arms, omitted by the painter, have been supplied, and a
scroll has been added, but the face has been left unaltered.
Although the artist was not very skilled, he succeeded
fairly well, for Ribera declares the portrait to be true.
According to Hye-Hoys, the original painting, formerly at Pastrana, is now at the town hall of Avila;
others believe the one preserved at Valladolid to be the
original, and the portrait at Seville a copy. The general
opinion is that the one of Seville is the original.

Miscellaneous

Saint Teresa's Manifestations After Death.

Saint Teresa appeared to many people after her death,
and a record has been kept of her sayings on such occasions. At the moment of her decease several nuns were
favoured with extraordinary experiences which they
took as an intimation of an event which, however sad
for themselves, could not but fill them with joy for the
sake of the holy Mother. Besides some instances already
quoted in the account of the death scene, nuns in distant
parts of Spain were made acquainted with the death and
the glory of St. Teresa. Sister Frances of Jesus, at
Valladolid, saw a halo of light in the sky, by which she
understood that some very holy soul had just entered
paradise. Sister Casilda of St. Angelo, of the same convent, beheld St. Teresa seated beside St. Francis of Assisi
and crowned with equal glory. Mother Anne of Jesus,
lying dangerously ill at Granada, saw beside her bed a
nun surrounded with a glory so dazzling that her features
were indistinguishable. The invalid, while gazing at
her, conceived a great esteem for her vocation and
realised the importance of every detail of the rule, and
how it would be worth while to risk even one's life for
the least ceremony of the Church, considering the glory
reserved for those who faithfully observe these points.
Thinking the apparition to be a warning of her own death,
she summoned some of the nuns, to whom she explained
what had happened to her; she requested that the
prior of the house of friars should write to a certain
convent to suppress some practices of devotion which
she understood now to be unsuited to the Order. But
instead of dying she recovered her health, much to the
physician's surprise. When, a few days later, she
learned the news of St. Teresa's death she understood
the meaning of the vision. Great as her grief was, she
was comforted by these words spoken to her by the
holy Mother: " As the Church did not cease to exist
because on one and the same day St. Peter and St. Paul
were taken away, neither will our Order fail now. On
the contrary it will flourish all the more, for now that
I am in heaven I am better able to assist it."

Saint Teresa appeared frequently to Father Jerome
Gratian, warning him of impending danger, instructing
him in his perplexities and cheering him in his great
trials. Among others he relates the following instance:
"While I was saying Matins late one night, tired out
with having preached twice that day at the cathedral
of Seville, on raising my eyes I saw a bright light, whiter,
more transparent and more piercing than that of the
sun itself. Indeed there was this difference, that while
the light of the sun only lights up the surface of material
objects, this seemed to penetrate the very depths of
my heart. Yet it neither glared, nor scorched, nor
dazzled me, but entered sweetly and deliciously, illuminating and comforting me. I recognised the face of
St. Teresa by it, resplendent and beautiful, and looking
younger than when she died, as if she were only about
forty years old. I heard interiorly these words: ' We
in heaven and you on earth ought to be one in faith, and
purity, and love; we in enjoying, and you in suffering, —
and the same praise we render to the Divine Essence
should be paid by you to the most Holy Sacrament.
Tell this to all my daughters.' "

Besides other messages delivered to him by St. Teresa,
he quotes this:

"Once while saying Mass it seemed to me that Christ,
our Lady, and the Mother Teresa were present in my
heart and that I heard in my soul the following words:
first, that I should be as attentive as possible at Mass.
Secondly, that I should seek the honour and glory of
God in all my actions. Thirdly, that as long as I lived
I should watch carefully over the interests of the Order.

Fourthly, that extraordinary spiritual manifestations,
such as visions, raptures and the like, do not always
proceed wholly either from God or from Satan, whether
those who experience them be saints or sinners, and
that great harm arises from following any general rule
in these matters. On another occasion, while I was
holding a chapter in a convent of nuns, the holy Mother
seemed to stand by my side in the manner already
explained, invisible to the eyes, though one of the sisters
said afterwards she had seen her bodily present. A nun
acknowledged having committed a fault which I considered very trivial, but St. Teresa said to me: ' Some
faults seem very slight in this world, but are found in
the next to be serious, inasmuch as they hinder the
growth of charity, and we shall be severely judged for
having held them lightly.' Another sister owned that
she had acted without consideration and had not borne
very patiently with the sick when they were troublesome.
Mother Teresa seemed to me to insist that the nuns should
ever act with due deliberation, and that it would be an
imperfection to blame the sick for complaining and
fretting, for they should always be tended and borne
with affectionately in religious communities."

The following document was given to Father Gratian
by Mother Catherine of Jesus, foundress and prioress
of the convent of Veas:

"To the Father Provincial.

"This day, being Low-Sunday, I was bidden by our
holy Mother in a vision to tell you several things. It is
now a month since she first made them known to me,
but as they relate personally to your Reverence, I did
not write them down, but waited for an opportunity
of seeing you. I cannot recollect all the details, but
shall only say what I remember lest I should forget
everything.

"While I was hearing Mass and praying for your Reverence and the new foundations, I thought the holy Mother
bade me charge you not to part with the relic of her
finger nor give it to anybody while you live, for by its
means you will be helped in your undertakings and your
private affairs. She wishes you to keep it, for it will
impart strength to you. This was so clearly delivered
to me that I longed to possess some relic of our Mother
myself.

"Your Reverence feels troubled at thinking that you
are remiss in punishing those who do not perform their
duties, as you are of a very gentle disposition and wanting
in the firmness needed in a superior. The holy Mother
told me to say that you were not to be distressed about
it nor to alter the way in which you act, let people say
what they will, but to keep the fear of God before you
as you have always done, and to aim at forwarding His
greater honour and glory. Thus you will render great
service to our Lord, and will succeed in your affairs.
Then let others say whatever they choose. As regards
punishments, lean to charity and forgiveness as does
God Himself, and let there be less publicity and more
secrecy as regards other people's affairs.

"Let preachers insist upon confessions being well made,
which is of great importance, for the devil is always
striving to mingle poison with our medicine.

"It is very wrong for confessors to relate anything that
passes in the confessional, for nothing either good or
bad connected with it should be discussed.

"Let the bad custom of speaking ill of Beatas be
stopped, for many of them are very pleasing to God.

"Let no one censure the way in which others act;
each may be right in his own way, and great harm is
done by such criticism.

"Let no superior give easy credit to all that is written
or told him of the misdemeanors of his subjects, but
let him withhold his judgment until he is well-informed
about the matter.

"Do not allow temporal prosperity to be sought for
in any convent in the same way as in the world; let
the religious trust in God and live in recollection.
Otherwise it often happens that, under the pretext of maintaining the convent or benefiting souls, there is an
excessive intercourse with seculars, which does great
harm to the spiritual life.

"Let the superior pray before deciding any grave
matter, which generally effects excellent results, and let
him teach his subjects to do the same.

"As far as possible, let the superior himself settle
affairs regarding foundations. There are many good
reasons for this, — among others that of preventing his
subjects from claiming a right over foundations made by
themselves, which would lead to disputes and divisions,
also cause the loss of much time, and foster party spirit.

"In a newly founded convent of nuns the prioress
should be one experienced in government, even if she
has to be taken from another house, for an inexperienced
superior would do less harm in an old-established
community than in a new one.

"Let the prioress set over a convent be the most
obedient of all to the Provincial, as this will teach the
community to obey.

"Let her teach her subjects to be detached from
everything, both exterior and interior, as she herself
should be, since they are all the brides of so great a King
as Christ. Let not the superior allow convents to be
founded without some means of subsistence, for the nuns
cannot begin by requiring help from seculars without
forfeiting their respect for the religious life.

"Let the Provincial visit the convents personally; if,
however, he has to send a substitute, let it be some one
with great respect for him, and who is humble, experienced
and spiritual; otherwise the deputy will endeavour to
introduce new modes of government, which is a source
of great damage to religion. Let him, wherever he may
be sent, speak in praise of penance, and blame excess
in eating, for, as long as the health is not injured, penance,
austerities and self-contempt are of great benefit to the soul .

"It is not good to change the superiors frequently in
convents of friars, or it will sometimes be necessary to
elect those who are inexperienced. However, as a rule,
it is well for those who have been priors to return to
the ranks in order to learn to obey and to humble themselves. They will thus do great good to the brethren
by their example, and be able greatly to assist the new
priors with advice, besides fulfilling their duties all the
better when they are re-elected.

"Let the custom be maintained of having spiritual
exercises and special days for recollection for the advancement of souls. Superiors will be called to render a
very strict account on the day of judgment; many will
have a severe purgatory, and some will even suffer in
hell on account of the sins of others, although not condemned for their own.

"Do not make much account of visions and revelations,
for though some are true, many are false and deceitful,
and it is very laborious and dangerous to separate the
uncertain truths from manifest falsehood. Besides this,
souls who follow private revelations are liable to deviate
from faith, which is the certain and safe virtue. Therefore Saint Teresa said she would not like her daughters
to read her books very much, particularly her Life,
lest they should think her perfection consisted in visions
and revelations, and should desire and try to obtain
them, thinking that they were imitating her. She drew
many conclusions from this, saying that she enjoyed the
happiness of heaven not for her revelations, but for her
virtues. She said that your Reverence was to uproot
such an idea in nuns who have a tendency in this direction. Although some may receive revelations which are
indubitably true, such matters should be made little of,
and the nuns should be taught to pay no attention to
them, as they are of slight value and often do more harm
than good. Our holy Mother explained this so clearly
that I no longer desired to read her Life. She further
remarked that imaginary visions, when combined with
intellectual ones, may deceive in a still more subtle
manner. For what is seen with the eyes of the soul makes
a deeper impression than what is seen with the eyes of
the body. And although our Lord sometimes favours
a soul in this way, greatly to its benefit, the thing itself
is extremely dangerous on account of the incessant
warfare the devil wages against spiritual persons by
this means, especially if any one has a propensity for
such things. Safety lies in trusting rather to the opinion
of one's superior than to one's own. The highest spirituality is to be detached from all that is proper to the
senses. Many persons are very partial to revelations
which are supposed to sanctify the soul receiving them.
This is a contradiction of the order established by God
for our sanctification, which is to be gained by the practice
of virtue and obedience to His holy law. Women are
credulous and therefore prone to error, and when guided
by men of little learning and discretion, great harm may
ensue.

"Perfect impartiality should be observed in convents of
nuns regarding the confessor, as excessive familiarity
between him and the prioress sometimes does harm to
the whole community.

"Let the superior of the Discalced Carmelites watch
carefully over the purity of the religious spirit, for
God seeks to do much good by our Order, and carries
out His designs by means of pure souls.

"One day, when a sub-prioress, fearing the Order
might lose its first fervour, was praying for the superior,
the Mother Teresa appeared to her and bade her not be
afraid, for God Himself would watch over it as it had
cost her (St. Teresa's) life-blood. But let the Provincial
be advised to insist upon the observance of the Rule and
Constitutions to the utmost of his power.

"On another occasion, when the same nun asked our
Lord to give her Mother Teresa's virtues, the Saint
appeared to her saying God would give them to her who
disposed herself for them, and that the Provincial was
to assign the different virtues to various sisters so that
all might acquire some.

"At another time a nun who had been a favourite
of the Saint owing to her saintly life from childhood, and
her practice of heroic virtue, begged our Lord for a share
in His Passion. She saw Him in spirit place a crown
of thorns on her head, which caused an excessive pain
to the end of her life so that it was surprising how she
was able to fulfil her duties without hindrance. Not
content with this, she was favoured with a keen pain in
her hands and feet and side. This nun was Mary of
Jesus (de Rivas), some years prioress of Toledo. St.
Teresa often appeared to her, giving her the following
counsels among others:

"The poverty in which the Order was founded was to
be maintained, for God would bestow the ' double spirit,'
as upon the prophet Eliseus, upon those convents that
were poor, and, as long as they trusted in Christ the Bridegroom, they would never come to want. The nuns were
always to be cheerful, for perfection and joy went hand
in hand, and the one would last as long as the other.

"The Provincial should not fail to found as many
convents as possible, for they were pleasing to God;
let him take his own share in the foundations. Professed
nuns should not be moved from their own house to a
convent where the community is too small, but let fresh
subjects be received into such a house, or let novices or
postulants be transferred from a large convent to a
small one. But to send those who were discontented in
one place to another would open the door to restlessness
and a want of religious spirit.

"Let the Provincial make sure that all convents command a pleasant view of the surrounding country, and let
no austerities be introduced beyond what are prescribed
in the Rule and Constitutions; for if there is no recreation inside the convent the sisters will seek it from
people outside, and although it might not be so now, yet
in the future it might lead to relaxation.

"On another occasion she saw our Lord in great glory
and beauty; He gave her to understand that the time
would come when St. Teresa's sanctity would become
known; she was to thank the Provincial for having
treated her body with such respect, and tell him that he
would be rewarded for it. The holy Mother also announced
that there were to be many martyrs in the Order.

"To another nun who was lamenting over her death,
St. Teresa appeared, promising that she would help the
Order more now that she was in heaven than she had
done on earth; the Provincial was to watch most carefully
over it, keeping ever in spirit close to the Blessed Virgin
and the glorious Saint Joseph, who would enlighten him.

"One day when the same nun was grieving at having
no one to whom she could open her soul as she had done
to the Saint, the holy Mother appeared to her and bade
her communicate with the prior and treat him with the
same candour and confidence as she would have used with
herself. She also insisted on the cultivation of concord
among the nuns, and on their being open and frank
with the prioress. On another occasion, seeing St.
Teresa near a hermitage in the convent grounds, this nun
was bidden to encourage the Provincial with reference
to a vow of greater perfection he felt prompted to take,
and to advise him to act in conformity with the Saint." 4

"On the feast of the Epiphany our holy Mother told
me to say to the Father Provincial: ' The religious complain that your Reverence does not do penance, and that
you wear linen for which you have no good reason. Many
of your subjects, being averse to self-indulgence, do not
consider your needs and labours, and what you suffer
in travelling about, when on some occasions while you
are away from home you eat meat or take some slight
dispensation on account of your infirmities. These
religious are plotting against you; their aim is to step
into your place. Therefore let them see you do penance
and do not keep it too secret, for the sake of setting
a good example. You must root up with severity, if
mildness does not suffice, relaxation of any point of the
Rule or Constitutions, for such things usually begin
with little and end with much.'

" On the feast of the Kings (Epiphany) when I asked
our Mother, as I saw her in a vision, what book we were
to read, she took up a manual of Christian doctrine and
said: ' I wish my nuns to read this, night and day,
for it is the law of God.' She then began reading the
article on the Last Judgment in a voice that terrified
and made me shudder, so that it sounded in my ears
for days afterwards. She drew much teaching of the
most sublime doctrine from this subject, and described
to what perfection it leads the soul. Since then I do
not care to teach high doctrine to the souls in my charge,
but I prefer instructing them in Christian doctrine and
impressing it upon them. I love to study its teaching on
my own account, as there seems much to be learnt in
it, and I cannot say what a treasure I find it. Strive
to make the religious love humility, mortification and
manual labour. Our Lord will give them the rest at the
proper time.

"One day when Mother Catherine of Jesus, already
mentioned, lay ill, Saint Teresa appeared to her, but,
thinking it might be an illusion, the nun took little
notice of the vision. The Saint said: ' I am glad you
do not give credence to it too easily, for I wish my
daughters to make more account of virtues than of
supernatural manifestations; however, this vision is a
true one.' With these words the Saint placed her hand
on the seat of the disease and the nun was instantly cured
from what had been thought to be a fatal affliction.

"Another nun was feeling very sorrowful because she
could not give herself so entirely to our Lord as she
desired. One day she saw a bright light, and the holy
Mother standing beneath an arch of flowers, holding
in her hand a book written with beautiful golden letters.
She said: 'Read, daughter! ' The nun was unable
to lift her eyes owing to the glare of the light, but the
Saint smilingly touched her eyes and she could distinctly
see the words: ' My Spouse holds your will that He may
use it in conformity with His own, by continually contradicting it.' ' Mother,' answered the nun, 'how
can I expect to have the strength for so great a thing
when I am so weak in little things? ' ' Strength will
be given you,' was the answer, ' when you least expect
it; by patiently overcoming ourselves in small matters
we gain the power of overcoming in great ones.' 6 The
sister replied: ' My Mother, am I pleasing to God? am
I in the right road? ' The Saint responded: ' Not by
the road by which you seek to go. Avoid singularity
and allow yourself to be guided by him who directs you,
and all will be well.'

"Another nun saw the holy Mother in glory, wearing
a girdle of precious stones including many rubies. St.
Teresa explained that it was her reward for her constant
zeal for souls.

" Appearing one day to Sister Antonia of the Holy
Ghost (de Henao), the Saint told her that she enjoyed
a great degree of glory and many privileges because of
her ardent zeal for the honour of God and her deep
sorrow for the eternal loss of heretics and infidels, which
had led her to found convents to intercede for their
conversion. For this reason God had bestowed upon her
the privilege of being their advocate in heaven."

Miscellaneous

Additional Maxims

1. Love more and act more uprightly, for "narrow
is the way."

2. The doctrine we should study most is the point of
the Rule bidding us meditate day and night on the
law of the Lord.

3. Purify your souls, for God loves to dwell in pure souls.

4. Strive to practise and acquire the virtues I loved
best in my lifetime — namely, the practice of the presence
of God, an intention of performing all my actions in
union with Christ, a perseverance in prayer which
produces humility and obedience, self-abasement accompanied with shame at having offended God, purity of
conscience with a determination never to consent to any
sin, however small, zeal for souls and a desire to draw
as many as possible to God, a devotion to the most
Holy Sacrament of the altar, preparation for receiving
Holy Communion with the greatest possible perfection,
special devotion to the Holy Ghost and the Blessed
Virgin, patience and endurance in suffering and crosses,
candour and uprightness of soul combined with prudence and calmness, a truthfulness which neither utters
nor consents to any falsehood, genuine love for God
and our neighbour, which is the summit of all perfection.

5. Strive to be as attentive as possible during Mass
and the Divine Office.

6. A feeling of love for God, sweetness, or tenderness
of soul which produces any rising of sensuality, springs
from Satan, not from God, for the Divine Spirit is chaste.
It is not well for men and women to be very intimate,
since all are not like the Blessed Virgin and Saint Joseph,
whose intimacy increased their purity because they kept
with Christ.

7. It is important for perfection that the constitution should be kept which bids the nuns give a monthly
account of their conscience to the prioress, hiding nothing
from her. If this custom should be discontinued the
true spirit for which we strive would gradually be lost.

8. For the impulses I felt during life in my desire
for death, you should strive to substitute impulses to
perform the Will of God, to omit no tittle of your
Rule and Constitutions, and to endeavour to obtain the
virtues most pleasing to Him, which are Purity, Humility,
Obedience and Love.

[Note: St. Teresa very frequently insists in her writings on this
practice, expecting the nuns to make known to the prioress their
consolations and fervent desires as well as their trials and temptations, and to make her acquainted with their manner of prayer,
the difficulties they experienced, the light they obtained and the
progress they made. No one was better able than she to help
them in all these matters. But as not every prioress nor even
every priest has a talent for such intimate spiritual intercourse.
Pope Leo XIII. has forbidden the practice unless it be entirely
voluntary on the part of the subject. ]

Miscellaneous

Canonisation Of Saint Teresa

As time went on, the nuns of Alba de Tormes reproached
themselves for not having treated their holy Mother's
body with greater respect. They felt instinctively that,
notwithstanding all that had been done to hasten
destruction, it remained incorrupt. Besides the many
great miracles which seemed to prove her sanctity, there
were not a few occurrences which must have almost led
them to think that their Mother was still bodily present
in the convent. Mysterious knocks were heard within
the tomb; lights were often seen near it, particularly
when any religious was dying; and a delicious fragrance
came from it. Sometimes, when any sister failed in
some point of the rule, for instance, talking in silence time,
three knocks at the door would warn her of Teresa's displeasure.

When, therefore, in 1584, the Provincial, Father Jerome
Gratian, came to Alba for an official visitation, they
begged him to open the grave. After several days' hard
work the masonry was at last removed and the coffin
discovered; the lid was broken, the wood rotten, the
Saint's habit decayed with damp and mildew and the
effect of the lime, but the body itself was perfectly intact,
and, more than that, it was as supple, fresh-coloured,
sound and fragrant as it had been at the time of her
death. A kind of oil flowed from her limbs, soaking the
clothes and the very earth. Even the leather belt exuded
it, and once, on the day of Father Gratian' s expulsion
from the Order, was noticed to be sprinkled with drops
like blood. At the sight of the incorrupt body the nuns
fell on their knees and thanked God for His wonders.
The body was washed, redressed, and laid in a fresh shell,
and once more deposited in the same tomb, which was
closed with more reverence than on the former occasion.
All this had to be done with great secrecy, for although
the foundress of the convent, Teresa de Laiz, was now
dead, the Duchess of Alba looked upon the relics as her
greatest treasure.

Before replacing the body, Father Gratian detached
the little finger of the right hand, which he always kept
in his possession to the end of his life; even on his deathbed he held it in his hand, softly singing some of the
Saint's verses. He also severed the left hand, wrapped
it in silk, putting it, with the key of the sepulchre, in a
casket which he took to Avila without telling the nuns
what it contained. But they found it out, for the Saint
appeared one evening to Mother Anne of St. Peter in
great glory, and pointing to the casket said: "What
that case contains is very dear to me, for it is my own
hand." Henceforth, when the prioress asked her blessing,
she saw the Saint's hand before her, upraised in benediction. Later on Father Gratian, under pretence of
taking the key, secretly removed the hand and gave it
to the nuns of Lisbon. He detached a finger for Father
Nicholas Doria, which he showed to the nuns at Malagon,
who were amazed at its sweet perfume. A lay-sister
whom St. Teresa had often been obliged to correct made
light of the phenomenon, but was punished by such
an increase of the fragrance that she fell to the ground
fainting and overpowered.

As had been foreseen, the nuns of Avila asserted their
claim to the remains of St. Teresa as being prioress of
their convent at the time of her death, and Don Alvaro
de Mendoza, formerly bishop of Avila, appealed to the
chapter, held at Pastrana in October 1585, for the fulfilment of a promise made him by Father Gratian during
St. Teresa's lifetime, that her body should be buried
at Avila, where he had built a tomb for himself. He had
a right to choose a burial-place near hers, as without his
co-operation this foundation could never have taken place,
and there would have been no Reform of the Carmelite
order. The fathers, too, were in favour of a translation,
and the permission was willingly granted.

The nuns at Alba had a supernatural warning of the
impending translation. As they were at recreation in
the room where the Saint died, they heard three knocks,
thrice repeated at regular intervals. Fearing that someone was in the church, they went to look, but found no
one. They learned afterwards that the time corresponded
with the moment when the decree for the removal of
the body was signed by the chapter at Pastrana.

In due time two religious, deputed by the superiors,
arrived at Alba, and communicated the decision of the
chapter to the prioress and some of the senior nuns, the
rest of the community, engaged in choir, being left in
ignorance. The grave was opened in great haste; the
sacred remains were found in the same condition as before,
the clothes saturated with fragrant oil, and a handkerchief,
which had been placed on the mouth, full of fresh blood
that stained whatever it touched. By direction of the
chapter the left arm was severed, as it was to be kept at
Alba; when the father who presided over the disinterment began this operation — he owned afterwards it
was the hardest task that had been imposed on him all
his life — the arm parted from the shoulder without any
effort on his part, — another wonderful circumstance which
could only be explained on supernatural grounds. The
bone was as white, the flesh as soft, as though the Saint
had just died. The fathers hastily wrapped up their
precious burden and departed with all speed.

Meanwhile the nuns were in choir reciting Matins;
to their surprise the well-known fragrance became
stronger and stronger, and at last so powerful that they
left the Divine Office unfinished and hurried to the holy
Mother's tomb. They found it open, the arm covered
with blood, carefully deposited on a sheet, but the rest of
the body was gone, the church door closed and the friars
were already far off. There remained no course for the
nuns but to submit to their loss, especially as they were
bound by their superiors to silence under severe penalties.
But not long after one of the lay-sisters found means of
communicating the fact to the Duchess. She obtained
leave to make a pie for that lady, in which she secreted
a statement of the events. The Duchess, forgetful of
all etiquette, rushed into the street crying: " They have
taken Santa Teresa away, they have robbed me of the
Saint! " The duke, her husband, was away, but his
uncle, Don Fernando de Toledo, who was in charge of
the estate,' dispatched a messenger to Rome praying
for the restitution of the body.

No less great than the grief of the nuns of Alba was the
joy of those of Avila at the arrival of the sacred remains.
" The number of lighted candles made the place look
like heaven," writes Anne of St. Bartholomew; "the
Saint caressed her daughters in a thousand ways in whatever part of the house they might be, appearing to them
and consoling them." The former infirmarian cleansed
and redressed the body, which was enclosed in a case
covered with black velvet, embroidered with the words:
"La Madre Teresa de Jesus," and placed in the chapter
room. Saint Teresa continually showed her gratitude
to Anne, who adds: "I was worn out with work; all
the nuns were ill, and there was only one sister beside
myself who was capable of doing anything I went to
the Saint's tomb and said to her: ' Mother, help me,
I am so exhausted that I cannot stand; give me strength,
I only want to be able to help my sisters! ' I felt in my
heart that she was aiding me, and that she said to me:
' Go, daughter, I will do what you ask.' I went to the
kitchen, and had hardly begun to lift the saucepans
when I noticed the fragrance of the Saint just as though
she had been there. A perfume came from the cinders
like that of her sacred relics, and gave me such strength
that all my weariness disappeared, and I felt the weight
of my body no more than if it had been all spirit. I never
was in the least tired again, and this supernatural force
remained with me until all the nuns were well again."
Although the community were bound to strict silence
regarding the translation, the fact became known even
at Avila. Yepes says that it reached his ears privately.
Provided with a licence from Father Nicholas Doria,
who was then Provincial, he set forth for Avila with the
bishop of Cordova and the licentiate Don Francisco de
Contreras, to view the sacred body and report its condition to King Philip II. With the bishop of Avila
and some doctors and citizens, they arrived at the convent
on New Year's Day, 1586; the sacred remains were
brought to the enclosure door, and, kneeling with heads
uncovered, the deputation examined the body; it was
still in perfect preservation, the flesh supple and the
sinews so well knit that the body stood upright with
but little support, though it weighed no more than a
child of two years old, which the doctors declared to be
incomprehensible. On receiving the report the king
was so impressed that he forthwith granted leave for the
foundation of a convent of nuns at Madrid, thus fulfilling
a petition made by the Saint years ago. It was useless
for the bishop of Avila to enjoin secrecy under pain of
excommunication concerning the whereabouts of the
relics, for he was the first to betray the secret by exclaiming: " Oh, what wonders we have seen! "

In the meantime Pope Sixtus V., who had been made
acquainted with the fact of the translation, decided in
favour of Alba de Tormes and gave orders to the Nuncio
for the restoration of the remains. The priors of Pastrana,
Mancera and Alcala proceeded to Avila and removed
the body in the dead of night, but the fragrance exhaled
by it betrayed the nature of their burden; some labourers
thrashing corn left their work and ran after them, shouting: "What are you carrying there?" At Mancera,
where a halt was made, a friar watching by the relics
was cured of the ague.

When the news reached Alba that the body of Saint
Teresa was being brought back, the clergy wished to
meet it in solemn procession and with music, but Yepes
says that the Carmelite friars desired to avoid any such
publicity. The church was crowded, the Duke of Alba,
with his mother, the gentry and clergy and the whole
population having assembled there. The identity of the
body having been attested in the presence of a notary by
those who had known the holy Mother during her lifetime,
the sacred remains were delivered to the safe custody
of the nuns, and remained exposed for some time at the
choir grating so that the people were able to satisfy their
devotion; in fact, had it not been for the iron rails,
they would probably have endangered the body in their
eagerness to secure some particles.

The joy of Alba was equalled by the grief of Avila.
A memoir signed by the Carmelite nuns and the citizens
was sent to Rome in which the claim of Teresa's birthplace to her body was set forth. The Pope commissioned
the Nuncio to investigate the conflicting claims, and the
sentence in favour of Alba was finally confirmed by
Sixtus V. on July 10, 1589.

In 1594 the Venerable Anne of Jesus, on her way
from Madrid to Salamanca, was directed to pass through
Alba de Tormes and to transfer Saint Teresa's body into
a magnificent shrine presented by the duke. ' ' I noticed,
she writes in her account, " that the shoulder was highly
coloured, and called the attention of those present to it,
as it looked as if some fresh blood were there. A piece of
linen, applied to the spot, became blood-stained; this
I gave to the fathers, and asked for a second piece, which
was coloured in the same way. Wondering at the marvel,
— for the holy Mother had now been dead for twelve
years, and, moreover, her skin at that place was unbroken, — I pressed my face against her body; she
spoke to me so tenderly, with such affectionate expressions,
that I could not repeat them. Among other things, she
told me that she loved me so dearly that she gave me
her very blood, and thanked me for all I had done."

It is well known how much the Venerable Anne of Jesus
had suffered in her endeavours to maintain the Constitutions of St. Teresa. The two pieces of linen were
taken to the king, who ordered the canonical informations
begun some years previously to be resumed.

It would be painful to describe all the mutilations of
the body made to satisfy the demands for relics. " The
hand of man did not spare the flesh which the fangs
of death had respected," says Father Frederic of St.
Anthony. Even before the remains were taken to Avila
a lay-sister, — there is some uncertainty as to the name
or names of those concerned, — had had the audacity
to cut open the body with an ordinary knife and to
withdraw the heart, which shows the marks left by the
lance when it was pierced by an angel. She took it
to her cell, but was betrayed by its fragrance and the
blood which flowed from it. She was punished by being
sent to another convent. In 1726 the Holy See granted
leave to the Carmelites to keep the feast of the Transverberation on August 27, with a proper office and Mass,
and in 1733 the privilege was extended to the whole
kingdom of Spain and its foreign possessions.

The body of St. Teresa, or what remains of it, rests
in a sarcophagus of jasper and marble with rich gilding,
the gift of Ferdinand VI. and his consort, over the
high altar in the church of the Carmelite nuns at Alba de
Tormes; the heart and an arm are in the same church in
a reliquary on the Epistle side of the altar, and are readily
shown to visitors. Other relics are to be found in the
Carmelite churches in Rome, Lisbon, Brussels, Antwerp
and other places. Eventually the Order had to obtain
a brief inflicting severe penalties on whoever should
detach any portion of the relics kept at Alba or elsewhere
without authorisation from the superiors. During the
revolution of 1836, sacrilegious hands broke open the
sarcophagus, stealing the jewels and treasures, but God
preserved the remains of His servant from profanation.
A witness who was forced to be present testified that
the body was still flexible and incorrupt.

The fame of her miracles and her books, which — with
the exception of the Foundations — were published in
Spain in 1588, caused steps to be taken towards the Saint's
canonisation in Salamanca, as early as 1591. On
July 26, 1593, by request of Philip II., the Nuncio, Mgr.
Camillo Cajetan, ordered the formation of the Compulsorial process. The informations collected in not
less than sixteen dioceses were completed in four years
and forwarded to Clement VIII., accompanied with pressing letters from the King of Spain, his sister, Dona Maria,
the Cortes, Universities, princes, nobles and clergy.
The Holy Father received the request favourably and
the matter was again brought forward at the instance
of Philip III. and Queen Margarita. The informations
in genere were taken between 1604 and 1607, whereupon
Pope Paul V. commissioned the bishops of Avila and
Salamanca to collect the informations in specie upon
the Saint's virtues and miracles. In all, more than five
hundred witnesses of all classes, clergy and lay people,
gave evidence. On April 24, 1614, the same Pope published the decree of beatification and authorised the
Carmelites to celebrate their holy Mother's feast each
year on October 5; this privilege was extended to the
whole of Spain in 1617. When the joyful news reached
Barcelona through the general of the Genoese fleet,
Don Carlos Doria, the excitement of the people knew no
bounds: the Cortes declared her Patroness of the kingdom — though the title was ultimately not adopted owing
to the opposition of the chapter of Compostella; the
universities declared her Doctor of Divinity; the army
chose her as their Generalissimo,, and statues were erected
at Madrid, Avila, and many other towns, representing her
in the doctor's gown with a white tasselled hood, and a
biretta at her feet.

The petition for the canonisation came from the King
of Spain, the National Council of Tarragona, the Emperor,
the King of France and the Queen-Mother, and many
other royal and princely personages. Pope Paul V. was
no longer in the chair of St. Peter, but his successor,
Gregory XV., having completed all the formalities required,
held the solemn ceremony of canonisation on March 12,
1622, in the basilica of the Prince of the Apostles. It was
the first time these solemn rites were performed according
to the new ritual, the occasion being remarkable for the
names of the Saints who thus received the highest honours
the Catholic Church can bestow; for besides St. Teresa
there were canonised St. Ignatius de Loyola, St. Francis
Xavier, St. Philip Neri and St. Isidor of Madrid.

Contemporary authors give a full and glowing description of the splendour of the proceedings.

The Bull of Canonisation of St. Teresa is as follows:

Miscellaneous

Bull Of Gregory XV. For The Canonisation Of St. Teresa.

Gregory, Bishop, Servant of the Servants of
God.

The Almighty Word of God, having descended to earth
from the bosom of the Father to deliver us from the
powers of darkness, and being about to leave this world
and to return to the Father, established the Church of His
elect, purchased by His blood, to be the teacher of the
word of life, that the wisdom of the wise might be
confounded, and all who exalted themselves against God
might be overthrown. He did not choose many noble
nor many wise, but the things that are contemptible,
and these were to fulfil the ministry to which they had
been predestined since the days of eternity, not by the
sublimity of their speech, nor in word of human wisdom,
but in simplicity and truth.

In the early centuries, when from time to time He
vouchsafed to visit His people by means of trusty servants,
He generally selected the lowly and the humble by whom
to bestow immense benefits upon the Catholic Church.
To whom also He revealed the secrets of the kingdom
of heaven which are hidden from the wise and prudent,
and adorned them with the highest gifts of grace to such
an extent that they edified the Church by the example
of their good works, and glorified her by the splendour
of their wonders.

But in our own days He hath wrought salvation by
the hand of a woman, for He has raised up in His Church
the Virgin Teresa, like a second Debora, who after a
most wonderful victory over the flesh by perpetual
virginity, over the world by admirable humility, and
over the snares of the devil by her many and great
virtues, aspiring still higher and surpassing her sex by
her greatness of soul, girded her loins with strength and
fortified her arm, and trained an army of the strong to
fight, with the armour of the spirit, for the house of the
God of hosts and for His law and commandments. In
view of the great work she had to do, God filled her with
the spirit of wisdom and of understanding and so enriched her with the treasures of His grace, that her
splendour, like a star in the firmament, shines in the house
of the Lord for all eternity.

Since God and His only Son our Lord Jesus Christ
have deigned to manifest this soul to His people by
the glory of miracles, as a bride decked with her crown
and adorned with her jewels, We have deemed it meet
and just that We, in Our pastoral solicitude for the
universal Church over which We preside, unworthy as
We are, should present her to the faithful, by Our Apostolic authority, to be honoured and venerated as a saint
and as one of the elect of God, in order that all nations
may confess the Lord in all His wondrous works, and all
flesh may know that His mercies have not ceased in our
days. Although our sins have forced Him to visit us
with the rod of His indignation, yet His wrath has not
made Him withhold His favours; in our afflictions He
provides us with fresh aid, and multiplies His friends,
who, by their merits and intercession protect and defend
His Church. That all the faithful of Christ may understand how abundantly God has poured forth His spirit
upon His handmaid, and that their devotion to her may
daily increase, We have thought it well to insert in
this document some of her greatest virtues, and some
of the most wonderful miracles wrought by God by her
means.

Teresa was born at Avila, in the kingdom of Castile,
in the year 1515, of parents as distinguished by the
nobility of their race as by their blameless lives. Trained
by them in the fear of the Lord, while yet in her early
childhood she gave a surprising presage of her future
sanctity. Through reading the lives of the holy martyrs,
the lire of the Holy Spirit so inflamed her heart that,
with one of her brothers who was still a boy, she left
her home in order to go to Africa and to give her blood
and her life for the faith of Jesus Christ. She was met
and led back by her uncle, but she never ceased to weep
because the better part had been taken from her. She
satisfied her ardent desires for martyrdom by almsgiving
and other good works.

At twenty years of age she consecrated herself entirely
to Christ. Following the divine call, she joined the
nuns of Our Lady of Mount Carmel of the Mitigated
Observance, where, planted in the house of the Lord, she
" flourished in the courts of the house of our God."
After her profession in this convent she was, for eighteen
years, afflicted with grave maladies and various temptations, without receiving any divine consolations. By the
help of God she bore this cross so bravely that the trial
of her faith, much more precious than gold which is
tried by the fire, was found unto praise and glory and
honour at the appearing of Jesus Christ.

As the foundation of faith must be laid before erecting
the sublime edifice of the Christian virtues, Teresa set
up hers so firmly and immutably that she might be
compared, according to our Lord's words, to a wise man,
who founded his house upon a rock. So steadfastly did
she believe in, and venerate, the most holy Sacraments
of the Church and the dogmas of the Catholic Religion,
that she often said there was nothing about which she
could feel greater certainty. Illuminated by this light
of faith, she beheld the Body of our Lord Jesus Christ
so clearly in the most Blessed Eucharist with her mental
sight as to declare that she had no reason to envy those
who had had the joy of looking on Him with their bodily
eyes. Yet so lively was her trust in God that she continually mourned over her detention in this mortal life
which prevented her being ever with the Lord. While
meditating on the joys of her heavenly country she was
often rapt in ecstasy and raised to their enjoyment while
still in the flesh.

First among Teresa's virtues ranked the love of God,
which so inflamed her heart that her confessors admired
and praised her charity as more like that of a cherub than
of a human being. Our Lord wonderfully increased it by
a number of visions and revelations. One day, giving her
His right hand and showing her the nail which had transpierced it, He took her for His spouse and deigned to
say to her: "Henceforth as a true bride thou shalt
regard My honour as thine; I am now all thine and thou
art Mine." On another occasion she saw an angel
pierce her heart with a flaming dart. These divine gifts
so ignited her heart with divine love that she made the
arduous vow of always doing what she believed to be most
perfect and most for the honour of God. So much so
that she appeared after her death in a vision to a certain
nun and revealed that she had died, not of disease, but
of the unbearable fervour of divine love.

She showed her constant charity for her neighbour
in many ways, chiefly by her ardent desire for the salvation of souls. She often wept over the darkness of
infidels and heretics, not only continually praying God
to enlighten them, but offering for them fasts, disciplines
and other bodily mortifications. This holy virgin made
a secret resolution of allowing no day to pass without
performing some act of charity: God helped her to fulfil
it, and, thanks to Him, she never lacked some opportunity
of practising charity.

She also imitated the love of our Lord Jesus Christ
for His enemies in a marvellous manner. Although
violently persecuted and tried, she loved those who
harmed her, and prayed for those who hated her. Indeed,
the slanders and injuries she endured nourished her love
and charity, so that men of authority used to say that
to win Teresa's love, one must defraud or injure her.

She kept her vows made to God at her religious profession with extreme perfection and zeal. Not only did
she most diligently carry out all her superiors' orders in
her outward actions, but she firmly resolved to subject
even her thoughts to their will. She offered some remarkable proofs of this. By the command of some of her
confessors who suspected that she was deluded by the
devil, she humbly made signs of derision and contempt
to our Lord Jesus Christ, Who often appeared to her,
but He rewarded her amply for her absolute obedience.
She also, at the bidding of another confessor, threw
into the fire a most devout treatise she had written on
the Canticle of Canticles. She used to say that she might
be mistaken in believing in visions and revelations, but
she could not be mistaken in obeying her superiors.

Her love of poverty led her not only to gain her own
living by her handiwork, but to exchange garments
promptly with any nun she saw wearing a shabbier
habit than her own. She was greatly delighted at
lacking any necessities, and thanked God as for a signal
benefit.

Her inviolable chastity shone forth among the many
virtues with which God had decorated His bride. She
cherished it so dearly that, besides keeping until death
her resolution of virginity made in childhood, she preserved her angelic purity of heart and body stainless.

Her humility, which cast a lustre on her eminent
virtues, was so wonderful, that, although the gifts of
divine grace daily increased in her soul, she often besought God to limit His favours, and not to forget her
flagrant sins so quickly. She eagerly yearned after
contempt and ridicule, dreading not only earthly honours,
but even that men should know anything of her.

Her invincible patience is testified by her frequent
aspiration to God: " Lord, either to suffer or to die! "

Besides all these gifts of His divine munificence, the
jewels with which the Almighty decorated His beloved
as with precious stones, He bestowed on her numerous
graces and favours. He filled her with the spirit of
understanding, so that, not only did she leave to the
Church of God the fame of her good works, but she also
watered it with the dew of her heavenly wisdom by
writing most devout books on mystic theology and other
subjects. These produce abundant fruits of piety in
the minds of the faithful, exciting in them an ardent
longing for their heavenly home.

Endowed and enlightened by these celestial gifts,
she undertook a great and most difficult work for any
one to perform, yet one extremely beneficial and opportune
for the Church of Christ, by initiating the reform of the
Carmelite Order, which she successfully accomplished,
both for the nuns and friars. She founded convents of
both sexes, not only throughout the Spanish dominions,
but also in other parts of Christendom, though, for
want of money and resources, she depended solely on
the help of God. Not only was she destitute of human
aid, but she met with enmity and contradiction from
princes and the civil power. Yet her work, divinely
established, took root and flourished, bringing forth
abundant fruit in the house of God.

Even during her lifetime God glorified Teresa's virtues
by many miracles, some of which We insert in this
document.

During a great corn famine in the diocese of Cuenca,
there was hardly enough flour in the convent of Villanueva
de la Jara to nourish its eighteen nuns for a month. Yet
by the merits and intercession of this holy virgin, the
Almighty, Who feeds those who trust in Him, so multiplied
the wheat that, although supplying for six months all
the bread required by these servants of God, its quantity
never diminished until the next harvest.

Sister Ann of the Trinity, a nun of the convent of
Medina del Campo, was suffering severely from erysipelas
in the face, and fever. Teresa caressed her, and gently
touching the affected part, said: " Courage, my daughter,
I hope that God will soon cure you." The fever and
erysipelas disappeared at once.

Mother Alberta, prioress of the same house, was
attacked with pleurisy and fever which threatened her
life. The holy virgin Teresa, touching the side which
was affected, declared that she was well and bade her
get up. The invalid rose from her bed in perfect health,
praising God.

The time came for Teresa to receive the crown of glory
from the hand of God, in reward for her labours in His
honour and her many good works in the service of the
Church. She fell very ill at Alba. Throughout her
malady she frequently spoke to her sisters most admirably
about the love of God, continually thanking Him for
making her a member of the Catholic Church, and commending poverty and religious obedience as the greatest
of blessings. She received the holy Viaticum of her
journey and the Sacrament of Extreme Unction with
deepest humility and celestial charity, and, holding the
crucifix in her hands, took her flight to her heavenly
home.

By various signs the Almighty manifested to what a
supreme degree of glory He had raised Teresa in heaven.
Many devout and God-fearing nuns saw her in the
splendour of her glory. One beheld a multitude of
heavenly lights above the roof of the church, in the choir,
and over the room in which she lay; a second witnessed
Christ our Lord in a halo of light, accompanied by a
large number of angels, standing near her bed. A religious perceived a number of persons robed in white
enter Teresa's cell and surround her couch; another saw
a white dove fly from Teresa's mouth to heaven at the
moment she died, while yet another nun noticed something bright like crystal pass through the window at the
same instant. A tree planted near her cell, which had
been covered with lime and built over by the wall so
that it had died long before, burst into bloom at the hour
of her death, against all the laws of the seasons and of
nature.

Her dead body was most beautiful; its wrinkles disappeared, it became dazzlingly white and, together with
all the clothes and linen she had used during her illness,
it gave forth a delicious fragrance which struck the bystanders with admiration. Her entrance into paradise
became a veritable triumph on account of the many
miracles God wrought through the merits of His handmaid. A nun who had long suffered with her head and
eyes took the dead virgin's hand, and on applying it to
her head and eyes, was immediately cured. Another who
kissed her feet recovered her lost sense of smell and
perceived the delightful odour with which the Lord had
perfumed Teresa's sacred body.

Without having undergone any sort of embalming,
her remains were enclosed in a wooden coffin and buried
in a deep vault which was filled up with large stones and
lime. Yet such a strong and wonderful perfume came
from her sepulchre that it was resolved to exhume the
sacred body. It was found entire, incorruptible and
flexible as though it had only just been laid in the tomb,
and impregnated with a sweet scented liquid such as God
causes to flow from it until this day, thus attesting the
sanctity of His servant by a perpetual miracle. After
having been reclothed in fresh garments and enclosed
in a new coffin, both the former having fallen to decay,
she was reburied in the same spot. When, three years
later, the tomb was reopened in order to transfer the
sacred remains to Avila, and frequently afterwards
when the body was examined by order of the Apostolic
Commissioners, it was always found incorruptible,
flexible and saturated with the same liquid, giving forth
a delicious fragrance.

In the course of time, God manifested His glory by
numerous benefits accorded by His handmaid's intercession to those who confidently recommended themselves
to her prayers. The limbs of a boy of four years old
were so contracted and contorted that he could neither
stand nor move. This infirmity, with which he was
born, caused him no pain and was, for that very reason,
considered incurable. However, after he had been carried
for nine consecutive days to the cell in which the holy
virgin had lived, he felt strength come to him, and, to
everyone's surprise, he suddenly rose in perfect health
and vigour and began to walk, crying out that Mother
Teresa of Jesus had quite cured him.

A nun named Ann of St. Michael, with three cancers
in her breast, had for two years suffered excruciating
pain and sleeplessness, being unable to bend her head or
lift her arms. On applying to her chest a small relic
of St. Teresa, to whose protection she earnestly commended herself, not only did the wounds at once disappear from her body, but she was at the same time delivered from an interior trouble which had long
molested her.

Francis Perez, a parish priest, had an abscess on the
breast-bone, besides being prevented for five months
from celebrating the holy sacrifice of the Mass by the
contraction of one of his arms. All human remedies
having failed, he had recourse to heavenly aid and looked
to the Mount of God, whence he obtained salvation.
A letter written by the virgin Teresa's hand being placed
upon his chest at once removed the abscess; some time
after, while on a pilgrimage to her tomb at Alba, he
touched, with his contracted arm, the arm of Teresa
which is kept there: he felt within himself a divine power
by which the limb was perfectly healed.

John de Leyva suffered from a malady of the throat
which almost completely closed the respiratory organs;
when in a dying state, full of trust in Saint Teresa, he
placed a handkerchief which had belonged to her upon
the seat of the disease. He fell asleep at once, and waking
shortly afterwards, exclaimed that he had been restored
to health instantly by the merits of Blessed Teresa.

The sanctity of Teresa thus became famous in every
land and nation, and her name was honoured among
the faithful in consequence of the many miracles worked
by God through her intercession. By Apostolic authority
information was collected in different parts of Spain and
forwarded to the Holy See. At the request of Philip III,
the Catholic king of Spain of illustrious memory, after
the cause had been seriously discussed by the Sacred
Congregation of Rites and the Tribunal of the Rota, Our
predecessor, Paul V of happy memory, permitted the
Divine Office to be celebrated in honour of Teresa, as of
a blessed virgin, throughout the whole Carmelite Order.
On the same king, Philip III, for the second time begging
Our predecessor that the Blessed Virgin Teresa should be
canonised, Paul again confided the process to the Cardinals of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. By Apostolic
authority they decreed that the new process should be proceeded with and deputed Bernard de Rojas, late Cardinal
archbishop of Toledo, of happy memory, and Our venerable brethren, the Bishops of Avila and Salamanca, to
see to the matter. After diligently accomplishing their
mission, they sent the acts to Our said predecessor. Three
auditors of the causes of the Apostolic Palace, Francis,
titular archbishop of Damascus, now Cardinal of the Holy
Roman Church, John Baptist Coccino, dean, and Alphonsus
Manzanedo, were ordered by the Pope to examine the
evidence with the greatest care and to give him their
opinion about it. After a minute examination befitting
the importance of the case, they declared to Paul V.,
Our predecessor, that the sanctity and miracles of the
Blessed Virgin Teresa were plainly proved; that all
that the sacred canons required for her canonisation was
abundantly supplied, and that the cause might proceed.

In order to conduct the matter with all due deliberation,
Paul commissioned Our beloved sons, the Cardinals of
the Congregation of Rites of the Holy Roman Church,
once more to inspect the process diligently and thoroughly
master its details.

However, Paul V finished his earthly pilgrimage, and
We, not on account of any merit of Our own, but solely
by divine grace, were called upon by God to govern
the Church. We believed it to be for the greater increase
of the divine honour and for the good of the Church that
the cause should be forwarded, considering that the best
remedy for the calamities of the present time is to increase
the devotion of Christ's faithful people for the Saints
and elect of God, that they may intercede for us in our
dire need. We, therefore, bade the aforesaid Cardinals
to terminate, as soon as possible, the duty laid upon
them by Our predecessor. Having done this with all
due diligence, they have unanimously voted for the
canonisation of that blessed virgin. Our venerable
brother, Francis Maria, Bishop of Porto, Cardinal del
Monte, laid before Us, in Our consistory, the digest of
the whole process together with the advice of himself
and his colleagues, whereupon the other Cardinals present
decided, by common suffrage, that the matter should be
completed.

Then Our beloved son, John Baptist Millini, consistorial
advocate at our Court, humbly petitioned in Our presence
in a public consistory, in the name of Our well-beloved
son in Jesus Christ, Philip, the Catholic King of Spain,
that the canonisation might be proceeded with. We
replied that on an affair of such importance We must
consult Our venerable brethren the Cardinals of the
Roman Church and the bishops present at Our court.
Meanwhile, for the love of Jesus Christ, We earnestly
begged the Cardinals and bishops present in the Curia
to persevere with Us in prayer and in humbling their
souls before God in fasting and almsgiving, that the
Lord of all enlightenment might send down upon Us His
light and truth, that We might know and carry out His
will and good pleasure. We summoned to a semi-public consistory, held immediately after, not only the
Cardinals, but also the patriarchs, archbishops and
bishops then present in Our court. There, in presence
of the no taries of the Apostolic See, and the auditors of
the causes of the Holy Apostolic Palace, We spoke of the
eminent sanctity of the handmaid of God, of the number
and fame of her miracles, and of the devotion shown her
by all Christian nations; We mentioned the petitions
made Us on her account not only by the greatest kings,
but also in the name of Our well loved son in Christ,
Ferdinand, King of the Romans and Emperor-elect, and
also of several other Christian princes. All there present
with one voice praised God, Who honours His friends,
and declared that Blessed Teresa ought to be canonised
and her name numbered among those of holy virgins.
At this unanimous consent, Our heart exulted in the
Lord and rejoiced in His salvation, giving thanks to
God and to His Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, Who had
looked in mercy upon His Church and had decreed for it
such great glory. We then decided upon the date of
the canonisation and admonished Our brethren and sons
to persevere in prayer and almsgiving, that, in so important
a work, the light of the Lord our God might shine upon
Us and direct the work of Our hands according to His will.
Finally, having performed all that is prescribed by
the constitutions and customs of the Roman Church,
We have met to-day in the most holy Basilica of the
Prince of the Apostles, together with Our venerable
brethren the Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church, the
patriarchs, archbishops, bishops, prelates of the Roman
Curia, Our officials and household, the clergy secular
and regular, and a large number of people. There,
through the medium of Nicholas Zanbeccari, advocate
of Our court of Consistory, Our well-beloved son Aloysius
Cardinal Ludovisi, titular of Santa Maria Traspontina,
Our nephew, repeated his petition for the canonisation in
the name of Our dearest son in Jesus Christ, the Catholic
King Philip (IV). Then, after chanting the prayers
and litany, and humbly invoking the grace of the Holy
Spirit, — in honour of the Holy and undivided Trinity,
and for the exaltation of the catholic faith, by the
authority of God Almighty, the Father, Son and Holy
Ghost, also by the authority of the holy Apostles and
by Our own, with the unanimous advice and consent of
Our venerable brethren the Cardinals of the Holy Roman
Church, also the patriarchs, archbishops and bishops
present at Our court, We defined and declared that
Teresa of Avila, of pious memory, whose holy life, loyal
faith and wonderful miracles are plainly proved, is a
saint and is to be inscribed on the list of holy virgins, as
We now by this document define, decree and declare.
We order and decree that she is to be honoured and
venerated as truly a saint by all Christ's faithful people;
We declare that throughout the Church, churches and
altars may be dedicated in her honour for the offering
to God of the Holy Sacrifice. We desire that every
year, on October 5, the anniversary of her passing to
the glory of heaven, her Office may be celebrated according to the rite of holy Virgins as prescribed by the Roman
breviary.

In virtue of the same authority, We have Granted and
grant to all the faithful who are truly contrite and have
confessed their sins and who each year visit, on her
festival, the tomb where Teresa's body rests, an indulgence
of one year and one quarantaine of the penances they have
incurred and for which they are answerable to Divine
Justice; also forty days to those who resort to her grave
pluring the octave.

Then, after having rendered God thanks for having
deigned to illuminate His Church with this new and
brilliant luminary, and solemnly chanted the prayer of
Holy Virgins in honour of Saint Teresa, We celebrated
Mass at the altar of the Prince of the Apostles, with
a commemoration of this sacred Virgin, granting to all
the faithful there present a plenary indulgence of the
penance due for their sins.

It is right that in return for so great a benefit We
should now most humbly bless and glorify Him to Whom
is due all blessing, glory and power for ever and ever.
Let us persevere in beseeching Him, by the intercession
of this His elect, to turn away His eyes from our offences,
to look upon us in pity, to show us the light of His
mercy, to inspire with fear those nations which know
Him not, that they may learn that there is no God but
our God.

As it would be difficult to carry Our present letters
to every place in which they are needed, We desire that
all copies of them, not excepting those printed which
are signed by a public notary and stamped with the seal
of some dignitary of the Church, should receive the same
credit as would these present were they exhibited everywhere.

Let no man, therefore, have the audacity to contradict
the text of Our definition, decree, inscription, command,
statute, indulgence or wishes, If anyone should dare
to attempt such a thing, let him know that he would incur
the wrath of God Almighty and of His Blessed Apostles
Peter and Paul.

Given at Rome at St. Peter's, in the year of the Incarnation of our Lord, 1622, on the fourth of the Ides of
March, the second year of Our Pontificate.

I, Gregory, Bishop of the Catholic Church.

(Here follow the signatures of thirty-six Cardinals.)

The Pater Noster

Table of Contents

1. PART ONE - Necessity of Trials and Combats

2. PART TWO - Humble Spirit of Prayer

3. PART THREE - Complete Detachment From the World

The Pater Noster

PART ONE - Necessity of Trials and Combats

These are exalted favors that we must here consider and understand,
because we have to ask them of God. Let us begin by studying one point
that I view as absolutely certain. It is this: ThOse who reach
perfection do not ask God to be freed from trials, temptations,
persecutions, and combats. To be afflicted by trials is but another
apparent and unmistakable proof that such souls are guided by the Holy
Spirit, and that they are not deluded when they view contemplation and
other special favors as coming from the hand of God. And I repeat,
these souls prefer trials; they even request and love them.

They are like soldiers, who are the happier the more often they fight,
because of their hope for richer rewards. For if there are no combats,
soldiers have to be content to live on their pay, and they well
understand that they will never be able to enrich themselves in that
fashion.

Conflicts, the Lot of the Soldiers of Christ

Believe me, the hour of conflict never comes soon enough
for the soldiers of Christ; that is, for those who are raised to
contemplation and who dedicate themselves to prayer. They never have
great fear of their proclaimed adversaries, for they know them, and are
aware that such opponents have no real power against those armed with
the strength of God. They always come forth as victors from the fight,
enriched with rewards. Such souls are never put to flight by their
enemies.

Demons Are Traitors

It is the traitors who they have good reason to fear, and against whom
they beg protection from our Lord. These latter are the demons who
deceitfully transform themselves into Angels of light, and the enemies
who disguise themselves until they have caused the greatest harm to the
soul. They do not make known their real identity; but they gradually
suck the very life-blood of our soul and destroy virtue, so that we
fall into temptation without realizing it. These are the real
adversaries from whom we should often beg our Lord to deliver us, when
we recite the Pater Noster. Ask Him never to permit us to succumb to
temptation, nor to become victims of illusion. Let us beseech Him to
show us the poison. May our enemies never hide the light and truth from
us. How right our Good Master was in teaching us this petition and
addressing it to His Father for us!

Danger of Delusions

Realize that our hidden enemies can harm us in many ways.
Do not think that it is solely by deluding us into believing that the
joys and consolations they may bring, come from God. In my opinion,
this is the least harm they can cause to souls. As a matter of fact,
these joys and consolations may even inspire some to advance in the
service of God. These joys may attract such souls to devote more time
to prayer. Being ignorant of the influence of Satan over their souls,
these persons unceasingly thank God and feel obliged to serve Him ever
more fervently, particularly in view of their unworthiness of such
favors. They should endeavor to show more fidelity, so that our Lord
will add new graces

to those they suppose themselves to have already received.

Humility a Protection Against Satan

Strive to be always humble. Realize that you are not worthy
of such exalted graces, and do not seek them. I am convinced that in
this way Satan loses many souls he had conceitedly looked upon as
already ruined. Thus, from the evil Satan sought to cause, His Majesty
draws good. Our Lord sees that our intention, in remaining close to Him
in prayer, is to please and serve Him. And He is always faithful to His
promises. Nevertheless, we should be on our guard so as not to offend
against humility, or give way to vainglory. Beg our Lord to save you
from such harm, and do not fear that His Majesty will permit you, for
long, to receive consolations from anyone but Himself.

Danger of Imaginary Virtues

Unknown to ourselves, Satan may cause great harm by
deluding us into the belief that we have virtues which in reality we do
not possess. This is a real evil. Through heedlessness, we take a path
that appears safe, and straightway we fall into a quagmire from which
we cannot free ourselves. If we do not commit a mortal sin that drags
us to Hell, at least our feet are fettered and we cannot follow the way
of perfection.

How can one walk when he has fallen into a deep marsh? He is doomed to
finish his days there. He will be fortunate if he does not go deeper
and fall into Hell. In all events, he will never make progress. If such
misfortune is his state, he will be of no help to himself or to others.
In fact, he would be harmful to them, for since the pit is already
there, many who pass by the way can fall into it. But if the one sunk
in the bog, climbs out and fills the pit with soil, no further harm
will come to him or to others.

I warn you then that the temptation by which the demon deludes us,
causing us to think that we have virtues we do not really possess is a
very dangerous one. I know this full well from experience. I can speak
on this subject, although not so well as I should wish.

Deceits of Satan

Satan, for example, gives you to understand that you are
poor. There is some truth in this, since you have made a vow of poverty
to God, at least with the lips. He has even convinced prayerful persons
of this. I have said, "with the lips," because it is impossible that
Satan should keep us ensnared by this temptation for twenty years and
even for a lifetime, if we fully realized what we promised, and had
made this promise with heartfelt sincerity. Surely we should see that
by such conduct we mislead the world and deceive ourselves.

Need of Genuine Poverty

We have made the promise of poverty. Or at least, we who
believe ourselves poor say, "I do not desire any of the goods of this
world, but I am keeping this object because it is essential, and I must
live to serve God. After all, He wishes us to nourish our body." And
thus we must offer deceitful excuses for a thousand different things
which the demon, disguised as an Angel of light, represents as
reasonable. He persuades us that we are already poor, and that since we
really possess the virtue of poverty, we need not strive further to
acquire it.

We cannot discover whether or not we have the virtue unless we examine
our actions attentively. One who has an excessive interest in temporal
things will not be slow to show it. However, a person who is truly poor
has so little esteem for the goods of this world that he is never
disquieted when, for one legitimate motive or another, he has to seek
them. If he lacks something, he gives no further thought to it; if he
becomes truly poor, he is not much preoccupied with his poverty.
Earthly goods are for him not a primary, but only a secondary concern.
His thoughts are more exalted.

Danger of Superfluities

Religious who are poor do not own anything, because at
times they really have nothing to possess. But should someone give them
something, rarely would they consider it superfluous. They are always
happy to have something in reserve. If they can have a garment of finer
cloth, they will not ask for cloth of coarser texture. They desire to
possess a multiplicity of things, even though it be only a small
reserve of funds to insure their needs should illness require more than
ordinary care.

Have you not promised God that you will not be preoccupied about the
things of the world, and no matter what might happen, to abandon
yourselves without reserve to His Providence? But if you are constantly
concerned lest you lack something, would it not be preferable to have
fixed revenues, as a means of avoiding anxieties? Furthermore, even
though we may possess such revenues without sin, it is well for us to
understand the imperfections we commit against poverty, so that we may
see how far we are from possessing this virtue. And we ought to ask God
for this poverty and strive to acquire it. For if we erroneously
believe that we already have it, we shall pass up all opportunities to
acquire it. And what is worse, we are living under an illusion.

Genuine Humility

The same is true of the virtue of humility. It may appear that we do
not seek the esteem of persons and that we are detached from
everything. But hardly are we put to the test than our resentment and
our actions manifest that we are not humble. Nor do we spurn the little
esteem that we receive. In a similar fashion, the poor of whom I just
spoke, do not refuse an object that can be of some slight advantage to
them. And still God wills that they seek not themselves!

Consolations From God

When we receive joys and consolations from God, we feel
that we on our part do nothing but accept these gifts from Him. Hence,
we feel that we should serve God with greater fidelity in gratitude for
them. On the other hand, when consolations come from Satan, we seem to
think that we are the ones proffering the gifts to God, and that we are
rendering Him a service that He must repay. And by these deceitful
notions Satan gradually works the greatest harm in the soul. On the one
hand, he weakens humility, while on the other, he makes us negligent in
the acquiring of a virtue we mistakenly think we possess.

Deceitful Consolations From Satan

What remedy have we against this temptation? The best seems to be the
one our Master gives us. He tells us to pray and to beg the Eternal
Father not to permit us to fall into temptation. But I would suggest an
additional remedy. If our Lord seems to have given you some particular
virtue, consider it as a loan which He can withdraw at will. And this
really often happens, though not without His special providence. I know
this from personal experience. Sometimes I feel that I am very much
detached from the things of the world, and at times I prove that I am.
But at other times, on the contrary, I find myself so attached on
certain points -----points about which perhaps I should have
laughed on the preceding day-----that
I can hardly recognize myself.

Vacillating Character of Human Beings

Sometimes I feel that I have great courage and that were it a matter of
God's service, I would not recoil before any obstacle; and on certain
occasions I have proved this. Nevertheless, on the following day I
should not have the courage to kill an ant, for the love of God, even
though I encountered the least probable difficulty in doing so. Again,
at times I feel that I would be insensible to every kind of slander and
calumny, and on several occasions I have proved the existence of such
sentiments, and have even experienced joy in the trials. Nevertheless,
there are days when a single word afflicts me and I long to leave this
world, because everything wearies me. I am not the only person
disturbed by such vacillations of temperament. I have verified this
with certainty in persons much better than myself.

Docile Dependence Upon God

Since this is so, who among us can claim for themselves
virtue or a wealth of virtues? At the very times we need these virtues
most, we find ourselves absolutely destitute. On the contrary, let us
consider ourselves as truly poor; and let us not contract debts which
we cannot pay. Our treasure must come from another source. We never
know when our Lord will leave us in the prison of our misery without
aid from Him. If others consider us virtuous, or if they esteem and
respect us, it is merely because of the virtues loaned to us. But if
God should withdraw His hand, we and our admirers would become objects
of ridicule.

Undoubtedly, if we serve God in all humility, He will aid us in our
needs. However, if this virtue is not deeply embedded in our souls, our
Lord will desert us at every step. In His way He will show us how much
He wants us to work to acquire humility, as well as His desire that we
possess nothing except what we receive from Him.

Dangerous Delusions From Satan

Here is another counsel I would offer you. Satan deceives
us into believing that we possess some virtue; for example, patience,
because we make a resolution to suffer much for God, and also
frequently express this desire. We fancy that we would really suffer
everything for His glory. We are elated over such dispositions; and
Satan for his part does not fail to attempt to persuade us that we
actually possess them. However, do not place any faith in such virtues.
Until they have been put to the actual test, do not think that you know
even their name, much less that you have received them from God. For it
will happen that even one single annoying word will suffice to exhaust
your splendid store of patience.

When you have much to suffer, thank God that He has begun to teach you
this virtue of patience, and store up courage for further trials.
Suffering is an indication that God wishes you to repay Him, for He has
given you patience that you might exercise it, and might look upon it
as a loan that can be recalled any time He wishes.

Imaginary Poverty

Another deceitful form of temptation lies in the ruse of
Satan to delude us into thinking that we are very poor in spirit. As a
matter of fact, we are accustomed to say that we desire nothing, and
are concerned about nothing. But no sooner does a friend give us
something that may not even be necessary, than our entire spirit of
poverty vanishes. Since we have formed the habit of saying that we are
poor in spirit, we finish by convincing ourselves, though without
foundation, that we really are in fact.

Watchfulness Against Illusions

It is very important that we be on our guard to detect and
realize the nature of this temptation, whether it concerns the virtues
of which I have spoken, or a number of others. When our Lord bestows
upon us one truly solid virtue, it appears to bring all the others in
its train. This is a well-known fact. But I would warn you again always
to dread illusions, even when you believe you possess only one virtue.
A person who is truly humble is always doubtful of his virtues. He
feels that the virtues of others are more genuine and solid than his
own.

Danger of Discouragement About Past Sins

Let
us be on our guard against a certain type of false
humility that Satan suggests to us. He seeks to cast us into a state of
anguish about the gravity of our sins. This is one point on which he
disturbs souls in different ways. He even goes so far as to persuade
them, on the plea of their unworthiness, not to receive Holy Communion
and in particular, not to pray. If they approach the Sacred Table to
receive Holy Communion, they wonder whether or not they are well
prepared, and in this way they waste the time that should have been
employed in drawing fruit from their graces. The anguish of these souls
is so great at times, that they imagine that God has abandoned them
because of their unworthiness. They almost doubt His mercy. Everything
seems full of danger. Their good works, excellent though they be in
themselves, they consider useless. Discouragement so enfeebles them
that they consider themselves incapable of any good, because they fancy
that all that is praiseworthy in others, is evil in them.

Disquieting Effect of False Humility

Consider attentively what I am about to say. It sometimes happens that
a profound conviction of your own misery may be an act of humility and
genuine virtue. At other times, however, this conviction may be a very
subtle temptation. I know, because I have passed through this state.

Genuine humility, no matter how profound it may be, never
disquiets,
never disturbs the soul. Rather it is accompanied by peace, joy, and
calm.

Difference Between Genuine and False Humility

Undoubtedly, the sight of its misery afflicts the soul and clearly
shows it that it merits Hell. It feels, too, that in justice, all
mankind should abhor it; and so it scarcely dares to beg for mercy. But
when humility is genuine, this pain fills the soul with such sweetness
and joy, that we would be sad without it. Genuine humility does not
distress, nor does it contract the soul; on the contrary, it dilates
the soul and renders it more capable of serving God. Such is not the
effect of false humility. This latter troubles and distresses the soul,
and completely upsets it in every way. It likewise fills one with
bitterness. In my opinion, Satan's ruse is to destroy our confidence in
God by making us believe that we have humility.

We should value humility when it brings us the knowledge of our
lowliness, accompanied, nevertheless, by true peace, joy, and
consolation. If, on the contrary, the sense of our wretchedness
troubles, disquiets, and contracts the soul, and hinders the
intelligence from finding true peace, look upon it as a temptation of
Satan. Do not, in that case, consider yourselves as genuinely humble.
Such humility does not come from God.

Thoughts of the Mercy of God During Trials

When you find yourself under such a trial, divert your thoughts as
quickly as possible from the consideration of your own wretchedness.
Fix you attention on the mercy of God, on the love which He bears us,
and on the sufferings He has endured for us. If there is a real
temptation, perhaps you may not succeed in doing this, for Satan will
not leave your spirit in peace, but will bother you with things
designed to weary you even more. In fact, it will indeed be a great
deal if you even recognize such a state as a temptation.

Danger of Excessive Penances

Similarly, Satan seeks to urge us on to excessive penances.
His
intention here is to have us consider ourselves more mortified than
others, and in this way to convince us that we are doing
something. But if you do give yourself up to penitential practices,
without the knowledge of your confessor Superior, or if you do not
discontinue them when they bid you to, then
be sure that you have succumbed to temptation. Strive rather to obey,
no matter what it costs you, for it is in obedience that the highest
perfection consists. And thus we should reason in all our undertakings.

False Sense of Security

Another very treacherous temptation of Satan is that of a
false
sense
of security. It consists in a certain confident conviction that we
could never return to our former faults, or to worldly pleasures. We
seem convinced of the nothingness of the world, and of its fleeting
character, and we imagine that our sole delight is the service of God.
This temptation is particularly dangerous when it appears at the
beginning of the spiritual life, because the soul, blinded by this
sense of security, takes no precautions against the occasions of sin,
and so succumbs to them. God grant that this second fall be not worse
than the first!! Because Satan recognizes the harm this soul can do to
him, and the use it can be to others, he loses no opportunity
effectively to frustrate its efforts to regain its former meritorious
state. Never permit yourselves, then, no matter what consolations and
pledges of love you may have received from our Lord, to be lulled into
such a false sense of security that you will not fear relapses into
sin. Always be on your guard against dangerous occasions of sin.

Genuine Candor With Spiritual Director

Do not fail to make your spiritual favors and consolations known to
someone who is capable of guiding you. Conceal nothing from him; for it
is precisely here that Satan is wont to work havoc in many ways.

The Pater Noster

PART TWO - Humble Spirit of Prayer

However sublime your contemplation may be, make it a point to begin and
end your prayer with the realization of your nothingness. Continue
always to walk in fear. If your prayer is from God, you will very
often, in spite of yourself, reflect upon your own unworthiness, and
you will have no need of this counsel. Such prayer engenders humility
and always gives us greater light to perceive our nothingness. I shall
not insist further, as you can consult many books on this matter. I
have spoken about it because I have personally encountered these
temptations, and have often suffered great anguish from them. I merely
add that nothing that one might say is sufficient to insure us complete
security.

Need of Constant Protection Against Wiles of Satan

O Eternal Father, since things are so, what can we do but have recourse
to Thee, and beg Thee not to permit our enemies to lead us into
temptations? If only they would attack us openly! Then we could more
easily free ourselves with Thy help. But, who, O my God, will unmask
their secret schemes? We have constant need of Thy protection. Speak, O
Lord, some word that will enlighten and assure us. Thou knowest full
well that those who travel the way of prayer are not numerous. And
there will be even fewer, if, as one attempts to advance, one is beset
with so many fears.

Sinners Under the Dominion of Satan

It is indeed a curious fact that the world seems to think that Satan
never tempts those who fail to follow the way of prayer. Hence, it is
more astounding to see one single soul, though striving for perfection,
fall into some illusion, than it is to view a hundred thousand other
persons, living publicly in sin and deceived by Satan. It requires
little effort to determine whether these latter are in a good or bad
state, for one can clearly see at a thousand leagues away, that they
are under the domination of Satan.

Astonishment Caused by Fall of Prayerful Soul

In truth, the world is right to manifest this astonishment. After all,
it has reason to be surprised and to consider it as something novel and
rare, when Satan does succeed in ensnaring a soul that recites with
fervor the Pater Noster. Usually, one pays little heed to ordinary
happenings, but one is astounded by rare and exceptional incidents.
That is why the demons themselves encourage this surprise in the
worldly minded, for Satan finds that this astonishment works to his
advantage; whereas a single soul reaching perfection deprives him of
many others.

Protection Assured to Prayerful Souls

I am in no way surprised that the world is amazed at these falls; for
such illusions are rare. If a person follows the way of prayer and
remains even moderately watchful, such a one is incomparably safer than
those following another way. Such a person is like a spectator seated
in the elevated balcony at a bullfight, for he is far better protected
than those risking the perils of the animal's horns in the arena.
This comparison, which I have heard, seems to be literally exact.

Do not fear to follow the ways of prayer. They are numerous. Some find
profit in one way, as I have explained; others, in another. But the
course is a safe one. You will be freed more readily from temptation by
being near our Lord than by remaining at a distance. Beg Him, entreat
Him, to grant you this grace, as you repeatedly do each day in reciting
the Pater Noster.

Gift of Love and of Fear

O good Master, deign to give us something that will enable us to live
without torment in the midst of such dangerous encounters. His Majesty
puts a gift at our disposal, the gifts of love and fear. Love will
quicken our pace; fear will make us careful on this our journey, which
is so beset with dangers. Certainly if we use this gift, we shall not
become victims of illusion.

Signs Indicating Presence of Virtues

Perhaps you will ask me: By what sign can we know that we really
possess these two virtues of such great worth? You are right in seeking
a sign, for you know that we shall never have an absolutely sure and
infallible proof. If we had the assurance that we possessed charity, we
should also be certain that we were in the state of grace.
Nevertheless, there are some indications of the presence of these
virtues which are so obvious that even the blind can see them. And
these signs manifest themselves with such persistence and emphasis that
one has no choice but to take notice of them. They are the more
noticeable, because there are so few persons who possess them in all
their perfection.

Can one imagine anything greater than the love and fear of God? They
are like two fortresses, whence the soul sallies forth to wage war on
the world and the demons. Those who truly love God, love all that is
good; favor all that is good; praise all that is good; and cooperate in
the support and defense of the good. In a word, they love nothing else
but the good and the true, that which is worthy to be loved.

Incompatibility of Love of God and of Vanities of the World

Do you think it is possible for one
who truly loves God, to love vanities at the same time? Can you imagine
such a one doing it? Of course not! For he who loves God, loves neither
riches, nor the pleasures of this world, nor its honors. He has a
horror of disputes and envy. His sole ambition is to please the
Beloved. His longing to be loved by God exhausts his whole strength,
and spurs him to spend his life in seeking means of pleasing Him
better. Now how could such love of God be completely hidden? True love
can never be concealed.

St. Paul and St. Mary Magdalen

Consider the examples of St. Paul and St. Mary Magdalen. After three
days, St. Paul began to show signs that he languished from love, as St.
Mary Magdalen did from the very first day. Surely their love was
evident enough! Undoubtedly, there are degrees of love, and according
to its intensity love manifests itself more or less clearly. But
whether it be feeble or strong, if it is genuinely true love, it shows
itself outwardly.

Ardent Love of Contemplatives

Since we are speaking of contemplatives who are exposed to the snares
and deceits of Satan, I would add that their love is not feeble. On the
contrary, it is always extremely ardent, for they would not be true
contemplatives, unless it were. This love manifests itself openly and
in many ways. It is a most vehement fire, and hence it must burn
brightly. If it does not glow thus, the contemplative should distrust
herself, and realize that she has serious reason to fear. She should
endeavor to discover what is wrong and pray and beg our Lord to protect
her from falling into temptation.

Perfect Candor With Confessor

In fact, if a contemplative did not possess this sign of special love,
I should fear that she had fallen into temptation. But I repeat, if she
is genuinely humble and seeks to know her true condition by opening her
soul to a confessor with perfect candor and docility, in spite of all
the flattering deceits of Satan, she will receive life instead of the
spiritual death the demon so conceitedly planned for her.

Docility As Protection Against Satan

Our Lord is faithful to His promises. Rest assured that if your
intention is upright, and you experience no sentiments of pride, what
Satan intended for your destruction will give you life. Only be docile
to the teachings of the Church, and you need not fear the illusions and
deceptions of Satan. Your love of God will not be slow in manifesting
itself anew.

Satan's Desire to Disquiet Souls

You may rejoice and be at peace if you experience the love of God,
which I have described, and the fear that I am now going to discuss.
Satan would like to disquiet you and prevent your enjoying favors so
sublime. This is why, either personally or through others, he attempts
to arouse vain fears. Since he cannot win you to his cause, he tries at
least to deprive you of something. Thus he seeks to harm souls who
desire to advance rapidly, and who would really do so if they would but
realize that God is the One Who actually grants extraordinary graces,
and that He can likewise richly endow with His gifts such unworthy
creatures as we are. At times we even seem to go so far as to be
unmindful of His great mercies in the past.

Satan's Method of Disquieting Souls

Do you think it matters little to Satan to be able to fill us with
fear? No indeed! Quite on the contrary, it is of considerable
importance to him, because through it he harms us particularly in two
ways. First, he terrifies those souls who have heard about the
illusions of contemplatives, by making them believe that they likewise
would be victims of deception. Secondly, he diminishes the number of
those who desire to draw closer to God, and who would actually do so if
they only realized the immensity of His goodness, which can communicate
itself in such an intimate way to poor sinners like us.

Helpfulness of Knowledge of the Divine Goodness

Certainly the knowledge of such Divine goodness would arouse in them,
and rightly, a longing for a share in these great favors. Personally, I
know several persons encouraged by this consideration. They devoted
themselves to prayer, and in a short time they attained to
contemplation and received special graces. Hence, O devoted friends of
Christ, thank our Lord fervently when you see one of your own thus
favored by Him. But do not think that such a Sister enjoys complete
security. Aid her by praying all the more for her; for no one,
surrounded by the perils of this tempestuous sea, can be secure while
living on this earth.

Manifestations of Genuine Love

You cannot then fail to recognize this love, wherever it may exist. In
fact, I cannot understand how it could possibly be concealed. They
say the love that one creature bears toward another cannot be
concealed, and still so inferior is this love that it hardly merits the
name love, because it is founded on mere nothingness. How then could
this other love, so ardent and transcendent, remain effectively hidden?
Notice on the one hand, how it constantly goes on increasing, for
nothing can hinder it; and on the other, how it rests on the intimate
certainty that it is repaid by a like unfailing love. Was not this
unfailing love proved by an incomparable manifestations that is, by the
endurance of all forms of sorrows and trials, by the shedding of blood
and finally by the surest proof of all, namely the sacrifice of life?

Final Reliance on Divine Love

O great God! What a vast difference the soul that has tried both loves
must see between the two! May His Majesty, before He takes us from this
life, deign to bestow on us His Divine love. For it will be an
ineffable source of assurance to us at the hour of death to realize
that we are going to be judged by Him Whom we have loved above all
else. Convinced that our debts are paid, we shall be filled with
confidence when we appear before His judgment seat. We shall not be
going to a foreign country, but to our home, where He resides Whom we
love so ardently, and Who bears us such great love.

Terrible Lot of Lost Souls

Consider now the great benefits of this love; but realize, at the same
time, what an irreparable loss it is to be deprived of it. In that
case, the soul would be handed over to the tormentor, delivered into
those hands so cruel and hostile to all good, and so partial to all
evil. What a terrible fate for the poor soul, who after passing through
the pains and dreadful anguish of death, falls immediately into the
hands of Satan! And what a frightful form of repose it will find in
that abode where it enters! See how it is torn to pieces as it sinks
into Hell. What a brood of loathsome serpents of every kind! What an
appalling place! What must be the feelings of this unfortunate soul!
What a terrible abode for the devotees of bodily comfort, who find it
indeed a torture to spend a single night in a miserable inn! And yet
these are
the very ones destined to inhabit Hell. What will they think of the
lodgings of Hell, where they must remain throughout all eternity?

Beginning of Life of Glory and Avoidance of Purgatory

Seek
not the joys of this world. We are well enough off here. After
all, we must spend but a single night in an uncomfortable inn. Let us
praise God and force ourselves to do penance in this life. How
comforting death will be to the person who will escape Purgatory,
because he will have already made reparation for all his sins! Even
here on earth he can begin to enjoy the life of glory, for he can live
in perfect peace, without any reason for fear.

Sufferings of Purgatory

Perhaps we shall not reach this state. If we must suffer pain after
death, let us beg God to place us in that abode where the hope of final
deliverance may aid us to endure our sufferings willingly, and where we
shall forfeit neither His friendship nor His grace. Entreat Him also to
grant us in this life the grace never blindly to enter into an occasion
of temptation.

Great Grace of Love of God

At what length have I dwelt upon this subject! And still I have not
said as much as I should have wished. If it is so pleasant to speak of
Divine love, what must it be to possess it. O Lord, in Thy infinite
mercy deign to grant me this grace!

The Pater Noster

PART THREE - Complete Detachment From the World

Do not permit me to depart from this life until I am
absolutely
detached from all earthly things, nor before I realize the utter folly
of loving aught but Thee. May I never fall into the error of applying
the term love to anything in this world! If the foundation is unstable,
the building cannot long stand.

Folly of Seeking Love in This World

I do not understand why we should be surprised when we hear
people say,
"This person has treated me shamefully; that person does not love me."
I merely smile at such foolish remarks! After all, who is bound to
repay us? Why should anyone love us? Let these reflections teach you
what the world really is. You are tortured by the very love you bear
it; this is what crushes you, for your heart bitterly resents your
having squandered its affection in child's play.

Fear of God

Let us now consider the fear of God. But at the outset, I
must tell you
that I regret being unable here to speak about the love of this world,
even though, in punishment for my sins, I was given to know it only too
well. Though I should like to make you understand what it is, so that
you would always keep yourselves from it, I must omit speaking of it so
as not to digress from the subject of fear. The fear of God is also a
virtue that is easily perceived by the one
possessing it, as well as by one's companions. It is true that at the
beginning, this virtue is not perfectly developed, except in those
individuals whom God has specially favored and enriched in a short time
with many graces.

Notwithstanding, this holy fear is always recognized
even in beginners. Little by little it grows, and with each succeeding
day this virtue of fear becomes stronger. Then it is not tardy in
manifesting itself. You will notice that a soul, possessing this fear
of God, immediately avoids not only sin, but even its occasions, as
well as bad companions. There are also many other ways by which this
fear manifests its presence in a soul.

Dread of Sin

When the soul has reached contemplation, the fear of God
that animates
it is very evident. It is to such a soul that I now refer. This virtue,
like love, cannot remain hidden in the heart. No matter how closely you
observe such persons, you will never find them lacking in recollection.
Our Lord shields them so carefully that they would not commit one
deliberate venial sin for all the gold in the world. And as for mortal
sins, they dread them as they dread fire.

Fear of Offending God

My wish is that you possess a profound dread of any illusions that may
beset you in this matter. Constantly beg our Lord never to permit a
temptation to become so violent that it would lead you to offend Him,
but beg Him always to conform it to the strength He has given you, with
which to resist it. If you keep your conscience pure, the temptation
will cause you little or no harm. It will even redound to your
advantage. It is important to keep this point in mind. Such is the
fear, then, that I hope you will always retain. It will be your
safeguard.

O, what a wonderful thing it is, not to have offended God. It is the
fear of offending Him that enables us to hold in fetters the demons and
slaves of Hell, for whether they desire or not, all creatures must obey
God. The difference between the slaves of Hell and us is that they must
serve Him without choice, whereas we serve God out of love. If we
remain pleasing to our Lord, we shall keep the demons at a distance.
Despite all their temptations, lies, and cunning, they can do nothing
against us that cannot be turned to our advantage.

Dread of Mortal Sin

Take care, then, to keep your conscience pure. This is a
precaution of
the greatest importance. Continue striving until you are so resolutely
determined never to offend God that, rather than commit a single mortal
sin, you would be ready to lose a thousand lives, and to be persecuted
by the entire world.

Avoidance of Deliberate Venial Sin

You must be equally determined, likewise, to be ever on
your guard so
as not to commit a deliberate venial sin. I purposely refer to
deliberate venial sin, for who does not commit indeliberate ones in
great number? There is one form of attentiveness accompanied by
deliberation, and there is another which is so sudden that the
committing of the fault and our consciousness of it occur in the same
instant. In such a case, we have not the opportunity to reflect upon
what we do.

Gravity of Deliberate Venial Sin

May God preserve us from all deliberate venial sins, no
matter how
slight they may appear. I cannot understand how we can have the
boldness to oppose so great a God, even though it be in the smallest
things. Understand, above all, that it can never be a small matter to
offend His Divine Majesty, especially when we realize that His loving
gaze is fixed on us. In my opinion, a sin which is committed with the
consciousness of God's gaze upon us is a completely deliberate sin. It
is as if we said, "Lord, I intend to commit this sin, despite Thy
displeasure. I fully realize that Thou dost see me, and I know that
Thou dost not will me to commit this sin. Of all this I am fully
conscious. Nevertheless, I prefer to follow my will and natural
tendencies, rather than Thy Will." Can such an offense be a trivial
matter? I do not think so. However slight the fault may be in itself,
in view of the deliberation which accompanies it, it is great, and even
very great.

For the love of God never be negligent on this point. Continue in your
present good dispositions. Realize that it is extremely important to
accustom yourselves to continue in the spirit of fear, and to
understand the significance and gravity of an offense against God.
Strive to deepen this conviction and maintain this spirit, until the
fear of God is embedded little by little in your hearts. It is a
question of your very life and even more.

Watchfulness Over Self

Until you are completely convinced that you possess this virtue, you
should exercise a great, and even a very great, watchfulness over
yourselves. And you ought to avoid all occasions and companions that do
not draw you closer to God. Strive earnestly in all your actions and
words to conquer your self-will. Avoid saying anything that would not
edify others: avoid all conversations that are not of God.

Resolute Striving for Perfection

Much must be done to implant this holy fear of God deeply
in the soul.
But we shall acquire it much sooner if we are inflamed with true
love, and especially if we have the resolute determination never to
commit the slightest offense against God. We ought to be willing to
endure a thousand deaths, just to avoid one single venial sin.
Doubtlessly, we shall fall from time to time, for after all, we are
lamentably weak. We ought, as a result, ever to be mistrustful of
ourselves. And the firmer our resolutions are, the less we ought to
trust ourselves. Our entire confidence must rest in God alone.

Advantage of a Holy Liberty

When you realize that you posses these dispositions of
which I have
just spoken, it is no longer necessary to be constrained and timid. Our
Lord will strengthen you, and your good habits will keep you from
offending Him. Act now with holy liberty in your lawful dealings with
others, even with the worldly. Such people cannot harm you, now that
you have a supreme horror of sin. On the contrary, they will incite you
to deepen your resolutions still more, inasmuch as they show

you what a difference there is between good and evil. If before you
possessed the true fear of God, these persons were a danger to your
soul and a source of spiritual death, they will now inspire you to love
and praise God all the more, for having snatched you from such manifest
danger. Formerly, you may have encouraged them in their weaknesses; now
you can rescue them by your very presence. Even though they may have no
intention of honoring you, your presence will influence them for the
better.

Beneficent Influence of Holy Persons

I often praise God when I reflect upon the source of
this beneficent
influence. Very frequently, a true servant of God, without speaking a
word, can silence blasphemies merely by his presence. The same thing
happens in the world. One always respects a friend of ours in our
presence; and even though the person be absent, no one will criticize
him, simply because he is known to be our friend. A person in the state
of grace has a like influence. The state of grace
itself causes the person to be respected, however humble his condition
may be. People will avoid causing him distress when they observe how
pained he is by an offense against God. I do not understand the precise
reason for this; but I know that this is usually the case.

Avoidance of Undue Constraint

Avoid undue constraint in your conduct. When a soul begins
to be
excessively restrained, it finds itself restriced in all sorts of ways.
Sometimes it becomes a prey of scruples and consequently becomes
useless to itself and to others. But even if it does not go that far,
it will not lead many souls to God, though it work for its own personal
sanctification. Human nature is so constituted that the very sight of
restraint and stiffness will frighten and repel others from following
the way that you pursue, even though it may appear more conductive to
virtue. Rather than risk the danger of such constraint, a person will
give up the idea of seriously cultivating virtue.

Danger of Uncharitable Judgments

Another danger arises from this. There will be a tendency
to judge
others unfavorably, even though they be holier, because they follow a
different way than you do. If they act freely and without constraint,
in an effort to be helpful to others, you immediately judge them to be
imperfect. If you see them give themselves up to holy joy, you consider
them dissipated. This is particularly the tendency of pious women who,
for want of learning, do not know how to deal with people without
committing faults. This is very dangerous, for it is a source of
continual and vexing temptations, as well as an injury to one's
neighbor. Briefly, it is extremely blameworthy to think that those who
are less constrained than ourselves are not as perfect as we are.

Undue Timidity

There is still another difficulty. In certain
circumstances, when you
talk with others, or when you are obliged to deal with them, you will
be timid about doing so through fear of not being sufficiently reserved
on some points. And so, perhaps you may even commend that which you
should have discountenanced.

Importance of Affability

Strive to be affable, in so far as you are able, without
offending God.
Deal with all persons in such a way that they will enjoy your
conversation, and will even wish to imitate your life and manners. Then
they will not be terrified by virtue, or prejudiced against it. This
counsel is extremely important for nuns. The more saintly they are, the
more gracious they should be with their Sisters. If you sincerely wish
to be helpful and acceptable to others, never leave their company, even
though their conversation may be unpleasant, and may cause you
vexation. Strive earnestly to be affable and agreeable. Aim to please
all the persons who deal with you, and particularly your Sisters.

Danger of Narrowness of Vision

Understand very clearly that contrary to what you may
think, God does
not concern Himself with such trivial matters. Protect your soul and
your spirit from scruples; otherwise you will suffer great loss. Let
your intention be upright and your will resolutely determined never to
offend God. Do not constrain your soul; for instead of inspiring it to
sanctity, you will multiply imperfections, into which Satan will lure
you. Nor, as I have said, will you be as helpful to yourself or others,
as you might have been.

Confident Trust in God

You understand now how with these two virtues of love and
fear of God,
we can follow the way of perfection with calm and peace. Therefore, do
not look for pitfalls at your every step; if you do, you will never
attain to perfection. Since, however, you can never be absolutely sure
that we possess these two essential virtues, we should always be on the
alert. Fear, consequently, should always be in the vanguard. As long as
we remain on earth, we shall never have complete assurance; for the
matter, it would even be dangerous for us. It was because He knew this
that our Lord, filled with compassion at the sight of a life of
uncertainties, temptations, and dangers, has appropriately taught us to
beg, as He Himself prayed, "to be dblivered from evil."

The Spirit of St. Teresa

Table of Contents

Preface

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

I. Complaints of the soul at its separation from God during this life.

II. How the soul which loves God is divided between the desire of enjoying Him and the obligation of assisting her neighbour

III. Thoughts of the Saint on the consideration of her sins, and of the mercy of God.

IV. Prayer that God would enable the Saint to. recover the time which she had not spent in loving and serving Him.

V. Of the complaint of Martha, and how a soul which loves Goa may complain to Him of her misery.

VI. How painful is this life to a soul which longs ardently for God.

VII. The exceeding goodness of God, Whose delight is to be with the children of men.

VIII. Prayer for sinners who are so blind that they do not desire to see.

IX. Prayer that God would deliver by His grace those who feel not their own misery, and seek not to be delivered from it.

X. How small is the number of the true servants of Godâ€” Prayer for those hardened souls who refuse to arise from the death of sin.

XI. Fearful state of a soul which, at the moment of death, hears the sentence of her eternal condemnation.

XII. How cowardly men are in the service of God, how fearless in offending Him.

XIII. Of the happiness of the Saints in heaven, and of the impatience of men who choose rather to enjoy for a moment the false pleasures of this life than to wait for the true and eternal joys of heaven.

XIV. How sweet will be the countenance of out Lord Jesus Christ at the last judgment to the good, and how terrible to the wicked.

XV. The consolation of the soul under the weariness of her long exile.

XVI. That God alone can give relief to the soul which He has wounded with His love.

XVII. That we know not what to ask of God â€” Ardent desires to leave this world, in order to enjoy perfect liberty, which consists in freedom from the possibility of sinning.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

I. Motives of S. Teresa for the establishment of her reform.

II. The true nature of union with God.

III. The love of Godâ€” Its signs and its benefits.

IV. The way of perfection is sweeter than men suppose.

V. Great benefit of courage in the service of God.

VI. Various ways of deceiving ourselves.

VII. On the contempt of worldly honour.

VIII. little attachments, great hindrances in the way of perfection.

IX. Persons farthest advanced in grace ought to live in continual fear of falling.

X. Grievous nature of deliberate venial sins.

XI. Confidence in the goodness and power of God, and contempt which we ought to feel for the devil.

XII. On forgiveness of injuries, after the example of our Divine Lord.

XIII. Vain excuses of lukewarm religious.

XIV. Prayer against the desire of human approbation.

XV. God will never fail us if we fail not ourselves.

XVI. Necessity of interior mortification.

XVII. Difference between true and false humility.

XVIII. Various kinds of false peace.

XIX. On a constrained and narrow spirit of devotion.

XX. Sufferings of those who are divided between God and the world, and how much it concerns them not to abandon the practice of mental prayer.

XXI. Means to preserve recollection in prayer.

XXII. Answer to objections against mental prayer.

XXIII. True vocal prayer always involves mental prayer.

XXIV. Prayer of recollection â€” The contemplation of God as within us.

XXV. Importance of the thanksgiving after Holy Communion.

XXVI. Marvellous effects of Holy Communion

XXVII. Benefit of devotion to S. Joseph.

XXVIII. Spiritual love of perfect souls for God, and for those -who assist them in the way to heaven â€” The kind of lore which they bear to creatures.

XXIX. We should not complain of slight indispositions, nor give way to excessive fear of death.

XXX. The danger of thinking that we have virtues which we do not really possess.

XXXI. Duty of nuns to pray for ecclesiastics and religions who are labouring in the world â€” Prayer of S. Teresa.

XXXII. Error of those authors who forbid the contemplation of our Lord's Humanity.

XXXIII. Temptation which often assails a soul which has renounced sin in its endeavours to unite itself more perfectly to God in prayer.

XXXIV. Aridities in prayer ought neither to astonish nor discourage us.

XXXV. Action, or the service of God, ought to be the end of contemplation.

XXXVI. That without the gift of contemplation we may attain to perfection.

XXXVII. Maxims addressed by the Saint to her religious.

Novena Before The Feast Of S Teresa

I. Preparatory Prayer

II. First Day

III. Second Day

IV. Third Day

V. Fourth Day

VI. Fifth Day

VII. Seventh Day

VIII. Eighth Day

IX. Ninth Day

The Spirit of St. Teresa

Preface

The "Exclamations of the Soul to God" were
written by S. Teresa, according to the Bollandists, in the year 1579. They are the outpourings of her soul before God after Holy
Communion.

The "Directions on Prayer and on the Life
of Prayer" have been extracted chiefly from
L'esprit de Ste. Therese, published in 1775 by
M. Emery, afterwards Superior of S. Sulpice,
who selected such passages from the, various
writings of the Saint as, although directly addressed to religious, convey a practical lesson
to all who aim at leading a life of close union
with God.

The Novena preparatory to the Feasts of
S. Teresa is written by an unknown hand.
Its dedication to Madame Louise de France
Novice Carmelite fixes as its date the year 1770,
when the daughter of Louis XV. left his
brilliant and dissolute court for the solitude of
Carmel, and received her father's conversion
as her reward.

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter I

Complaints of the soul at its separation from God during this life.

O MY life, O my life, how canst thou endure to
be separated from thy true Life? In what
canst thou busy thyself in this deep solitude?
What canst thou do, when all thy works are so
full of defects and imperfections? O my soul,
who can console thee, exposed as thou art upon
this tempestuous and. stormy sea? I weep
when I consider what I am, and I weep still
more that I have lived so long without weeping.
O Lord, how sweet are Thy ways! but who can
walk therein without fear? I tremble lest my
life should pass away without doing any thing
for Thee; and when I try to serve Thee, nothing
that I do contents me, because I can do nothing
to repay Thee the least part of the debt I owe
Thee. I feel that I would consume myself in
Thy service; but when I look upon my own
misery, I see that I can do nothing good but
what Thou Thyself enablest me to do.

O my God - and my Mercy, what shall I do
not to undo the mighty works of Thy grace in
my soul? All Thy works are holy, just, and
of an inestimable value, and wrought with
marvellous wisdom, because Thou, O Lord, art
wisdom itself. If my understanding would
search into their wonders, my, will complains;
for it would have nothing to disturb the repose
of its love. O my God, my spirit would fain
know Thee, and it is overwhelmed by Thine
ineffable greatness; my heart burns to enjoy
Thee, and cannot, because it. is enthralled in
the dark prison of this, mortal life. Thus the
activity of my understanding is an obstacle to
my love, though it was a help to it at first, by
the consideration of Thy greatness, by which I
learned to measure my inconceivable littleness. But why do I speak thus, my God?
To whom do I complain? Who hears me but
Thee, my Father and my Creator? And what
need have I to speak, to make known to Thee
my trouble, when I see clearly that Thou art in
my heart? Thus do my thoughts wander.

But, alas, O God of my soul, who shall assure
me that I am not separated from Thee? O
life, how bitter art thou, which even to the last
moment can give me so little security as to the
most important thing in the world! Who can
desire thee, when the only advantage that can
be gained or hoped from thee, which is to
please God in' all things, is so uncertain, and
surrounded by so many perils?

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter II

How the soul which loves God is divided between the desire of enjoying Him and the obligation of assisting her neighbour

I OFTEN think, my loving Master, that if any
thing could console us in any degree for living
without Thee, it is a life of solitude, because
there the soul rests in Him Who is her true
repose. But too often, alas, 'she cannot enjoy
Thee in perfect liberty, and so her sufferings
are redoubled. And yet this suffering is joy
to that which she feels when she is torn from
that solitary communing with her Creator to
converse with creatures.

But whence comes it, O God, that a soul
which aspires only to please Thee becomes
weary of repose? - O mighty love of God, how
unlike thou art to earthly love, which would
have no companions, lest they should rob it of
a portion of its beloved! But the love of God
is enkindled more and more, the greater the
number of hearts that love Him; and its one
sorrow is to see that all men love Him not.

Therefore, O my Sovereign Good, in the midst
of the overwhelming sweetness and interior
consolations which the soul enjoys with Thee,
she is sorrowful when she thinks of the great
multitude of those who reject these heavenly
joys, and of the number of unhappy souls who
will lose them for ever. She seeks, then, by
every means, to increase the number of Thy
friends, and willingly sacrifices her repose to
the hope of enkindling in others a desire for
the happiness which she enjoys.

But, oh, my heavenly Father, would it not
be better to put aside these desires for a time
of less abundant consolation, and to give these
blessed moments wholly to the enjoyment of
Thee? O Jesus, great indeed is the love which
Thou bearest to the children of men, since the
most signal service which we can render Thee
is to leave Thee for the love of them, and for
their spiritual good. What do I say? It
is even thus that we possess Thee more fully.
We feel, it is true, less sensible sweetness; but
we make it our joy to please Thee, and we see
that all the joys of earth, even those which
seem to come from Thee, have no solidity unless
they be accompanied by the love of our neighbour. He who loves not him, loves not Thee,
O most loving Master, because it was by shedding Thy Divine Blood, even to its last drop,
that Thou hast shown us the love which Thou
bearest to the sons of Adam.

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter III

Thoughts of the Saint on the consideration of her sins, and of the mercy of God.

O MY God, my soul is overwhelmed with sorrow
when I consider the glory which Thou hast
prepared for those who accomplish Thy will
even unto the end, â€” the labours and sufferings
by which Thy Son has purchased it for them;
when I think of our unworthiness, and how
the excess of Thy love, Who hast taught us to
love by dying for us, deserves a far other return
than our ingratitude. How is it possible, O
Lord, that all this should pass from our minds,
and that men should so far forget Thee as to
venture to offend Thee? O my loving Saviour,
is it possible that we should thus forget Thee,
and that, notwithstanding our ingratitude, Thy
Sovereign Goodness should still remember us?
What! when our sins have pierced Thee to the
heart by a mortal stroke, dost Thou, forgetting
all, stretch forth Thy hand to raise us from our
fall, and to heal our souls of their incurable
frenzy, that they may turn to Thee and implore
Thee to make them whole! Blessed be so
loving a Master! Blessed be His abounding
mercy! Eternal praise to His tender compassion! O my soul, bless this great God for
ever! Oh, what a heavy punishment must the
very weight of His benefits bring down on the
ungrateful! Vouchsafe,' O my God, Thyself
to apply a remedy' to this great evil. 'O
children of men, how long will you be hard of
heart! how long shall your hardness strive
against the; charity of this : most sweet Jesus!
Do we' think that our malice shall always prevail against Him?. No; no'; the life of man
passes away like the flower of the field, and
the Virgin's Son shall come to pronounce the
terrible sentence. O omnipotent God, since
Thou art to judge us, whether we will it or will
it not, why do we not consider how deeply it
concerns us to please Thee in this life," that so
Thou may St be propitious to us at that last
awful hour? But are there any who rejoice
not that they shall be judged by so just a
Judge? Blessed are the souls, Lord, who
at that terrible hour shall rejoice with Thee!
O my Master and my God, what is the anguish
of a soul which, having been raised by Thee
from its fall, awakes. to see how miserably it
has lost itself for a few moments of fleeting
pleasure; a soul which, knowing, O God of my
heart, O Sovereign Goodness, that Thou never
fails those who love Thee, and ever answer
those who call upon Thee, is firmly resolved,
by the help of Thy grace, to serve Thee faithfully even until death! How is it that we do
not die as often as we remember that we have
lost the precious gifts of our baptismal innocence? Alas! the best life we can live is to
die of shame and sorrow. How can a soul
which loves Thee intensely, O my Divine Master,
endure an anguish like this? But what am I
saying? Pardon, O Lord, my senseless words.
Have I forgotten the miracles of Thy love, the
infinite extent of Thy mercy? Have I forgotten
that Thou camest into the world for sinners,
that Thou hast redeemed us at so tremendous a
price, and hast paid for bur false pleasures by
the torment of Thy painful scourging? Thou
hast cured my blindness by the veil which was
placed in mockery over Thy Divine eyes, and
my vanity by the cruel crown of thorns which
pierced Thy head. O Lord, Lord! all these
things serve but to increase the sorrow of those
who love Thee. The only thought that consoles
me is, that the more widely my wickedness
shall be known, the more gloriously will Thy
Divine mercy be exalted throughout all eternity.
And I know not, O my God, whether this
sorrow will not last all my life long, even until
the day when I shall behold Thee in glory, and
be delivered from all the miseries of this exile.

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter IV

Prayer that God would enable the Saint to. recover the time which she had not spent in loving and serving Him.

My God, my soul seems to have some foretaste
of heavenly repose, when I think of what will
be my joy if, by Thy mercy, I come one day
to possess Thee. But I would serve Thee first,
because it was by serving me that Thou didst
purchase for me this happiness for which I
hope. What shall I do, then, O Lord? O
God, Whom I love, what can I do for Thee?
Oh, how late have my desires been enkindled
for Thee! and how early, O my God, didst
Thou begin to seek me, and to endeavour to
gain possession of my heart, calling me to
consecrate myself wholly to Thy service!
Lord, wilt Thou, then, abandon this miserable
creature? Wilt Thou reject this poor beggar,
who desires now to give herself wholly to
Thee? Is there a limit, then, O Lord, to the
multitude of Thy mercies, or to the munificence
of Thy bounty? O my God, how gloriously
canst Thou show forth to-day the riches of
Thine infinite goodness in Thy servant! Make
known to me Thine omnipotence by restoring
to my soul, through an intense act of love, all
the years which I have lost by spending them
without loving Thee. Am I uttering extravagances? for men are wont to say that "time
lost never returns." No, blessed be the God
of my soul! I acknowledge, O Lord, Thy
sovereign power; and if Thou art almighty
(as in truth Thou art), what is impossible to
Him Who can do all things? It is enough, O
Lord, it is enough that Thou wiliest it. Miserable as I am, I believe firmly that Thou canst
do what Thou wilt; and the greater the marvels that I hear of Thee, the more firmly do I
believe that Thou canst work greater still in
me, and with the ignore assured faith do I believe
that Thou wilt do what I ask. Who can
wonder at the marvels wrought by Him Who
can do all things? Thou knowest, O my God,
that in the midst of all my miseries I have
never ceased to acknowledge Thy sovereign
power and infinite mercy. In this, at least,

Lord, I have not offended Thee. Vouchsafe
to remember it in my favour. Do Thou Thyself, my God, restore to me all the time that
I have lost; restore it by the effusion of Thy
grace in my soul, now and for ever, that I
may appear before Thee in the nuptial garment. "If Thou wilt, Thou canst."

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter V

Of the complaint of Martha, and how a soul which loves Goa may complain to Him of her misery.

O Lord my God, is it possible that I should
dare to ask Thee for new graces, when I have
served Thee so ill, and have so carelessly
squandered what I have already received from
Thee? How canst Thou trust one who has
so often betrayed Thee? What shall I do,
then, O Divine Consoler of desolate souls, O
Heavenly Physician of all who come to Thee
for healing? Shall I keep silence concerning
the wants of my! soul, and wait till.it shall
please Thee to relieve them?; No, assuredly;
for knowing well, O sweet and loving Saviour,
how manifold are our wants, and what consolation we should find in laying' them before
Thee, Thou hast commanded us to ask of Thee,
and hast promised to give us what we ask.

I often meditate on the complaint of holy
Martha. I do not think that she was complaining only of her sister; but that what
grieved her, most was the thought that Thou
didst not regard her labour, nor care to have
her near Thee. Perhaps : she thought that
Thou didst not love her as well as her sister;
and this must have given her far greater pain
than the labour of serving Thee, Whom she
so dearly loved; for love changes labour into
repose. That this was. the feeling of her heart
appears plainly in this â€” that she says not a
single word to her_ sister,, but addresses her
whole complaint to Thee, and even ventures, in
the exceeding boldness of her love, to reproach
Thee with a want of solicitude for her: "Carest
Thou not?" And Thy reply, O Lord, shows
whence her complaint proceeds; for Thou dost
declare to her that love alone gives value to
all things, and that "the one thing needful"
is such a love for Thee as will, triumph over
every obstacle which can be placed in its way.

But, O my God,- how shall we ever love
Thee as Thou deservest to be loved, unless to
our love of Thee Thou art pleased to unite
Thy love for us? Shall I complain, then, with
this great Saint? Oh, no, I have no cause of
complaint; for Thou, my God, hast never
ceased to give me tokens of Thy love far above
all that I could ask or desire. If I have any
thing to reproach Thee with, it must be the
excess of patience wherewith Thy goodness has
borne with me unto this day. What, then,
shall so miserable a creature ask of Thee? I
will venture, Lord, to address to Thee the
prayer of S. Augustine : " Give me something
to give to Thee, that so I may discharge a
portion of the immense debt I owe Thee. Remember that I am Thy creature, and make
me to know my Creator, in order that I may
love Him."

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter VI

How painful is this life to a soul which longs ardently for God.

O Sovereign Master of all creatures, my God
and my Joy, how long must I wait to enjoy
Thy blessed Presence? What remedy dost
Thou afford to one who can find none upon
earth, and who can taste no repose out of
Thee? O long life I cruel life I life which is
no life! Oh, how lonely is my soul in this
solitude! how irremediable is this evil! How
long, O Lord, how long? What shall I do,
my only Good? Shall I desire not to desire
Thee?

O my God and my Creator, Thou dost pierce
us with the arrows of Thy love, and leaves
the dart in the wound; Thou woundest, and
the wounds are incurable; Thou killest, to
infuse more vigorous life. Thou dost what
Thou wilt, O loving Master, because Thou art
almighty. How can a worm of the earth, such
as I am, endure such contrary extremes of joy
and suffering? Be it so, O Lord, since such
is Thy will, for my only desire is to love Thee.
But, O my Creator, how intense is the suffering! Pardon these complaints, forced from me
by anguish which Thou canst alone relieve.
My soul is imprisoned in so dark a dungeon,
that she cannot but pant for liberty; and yet,
to obtain it, she would not swerve one hair's
breadth from Thy adorable Will. O my God,
my Glory, I beseech Thee, cease to increase
the tortures of my soul by wounding it more
and more with Thy love, or put an end to them
at once by taking it to Thyself. O death,
death, I know not who could help fearing thee,
if he have spent any portion of his life without
loving God And since this has been my
misery, what do I ask, and what do I desire?
To go to receive the just punishment of my
sins? Suffer it not to be so, my Saviour, since
my ransom has cost Thee so dearly. O my soul,
leave God to accomplish His own will. This
is all thou hast to do. Serve thy Lord, and
hope, that His mercy will relieve thy sufferings,
when thy penance shall in some sort have deserved for thee the pardon of thy sins. Desire
not to enjoy until thou hast suffered. But, O
my true Master and my King, I shall not be
able to do what, I say unless Thy omnipotent
hand sustain me and Thy loving mercy assist
me with these I can do all things.

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter VII

The exceeding goodness of God, Whose delight is to be with the children of men.

O MY only Hope, my Father, my Creator, my
true Lord, my Brother, when I meditate upon
Thy words, "My delight is to be with the
children of men," my soul is filled with exceeding joy. O Lord of heaven and earth, what
sinner but would take courage from these
words? Is it possible, O my God, that Thou
canst find no other, creatures in whom to take
delight, that Thou art driven to solace Thyself
with so abject and miserable a little earthworm
as I am? O Heavenly Father, when Jesus
Christ Thy Son was baptised, a voice was
heard from heaven saying that "in Him
Thou wast well pleased." Dost Thou liken us,
then, O my God, to this Thy Divine Son? O
boundless mercy! O favour infinitely above
our deserts! And we mortals can forget it!
O my God, Who knowest all things, remember
our misery, and vouchsafe to cast an eye of
pity on our weakness.

And thou, my soul, contemplate the joy and
the love wherewith the Eternal Father knows
His Son, and the Eternal Son knows His
Father; and the ardent love whereby the Holy
Spirit unites Himself to Them both : and consider that in this love and this knowledge there
can be neither change nor diminution, because
these Three are One. These Three Supreme
Persons reciprocally know and love each other,
and delight in each other after an ineffable and
incomprehensible manner. What need, then,
O my God, hast Thou of my love? Why dost
Thou desire it? What can it profit Thee?
Oh, blessed be Thou, God of my heart, for
ever and ever; let all creatures praise Thee,
and let their praises be eternal as Thyself.

Rejoice, O my soul, that thy God is loved as
He deserves to be loved; rejoice and be glad
that His goodness and excellence are known as
they ought to be known. Give Him a thousand thanks that He has given us upon earth
His Beloved Son, by Whom He is thus perfectly known, that so He may be known and
loved on earth as He is known and loved in
heaven. O my soul, under the shelter of His
protection, fear not to draw near to thy God;
and since He delights to be with thee, beseech
Him that nothing in this world may hinder
thee on thy part from delighting in Him, in
the contemplation of His greatness, and of His
infinite claims to our praises and our love.
Beseech Him to help thee to glorify His holy
Name, that thou mayst be able to say with
truth : " My soul doth magnify the Lord."

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter VIII

Prayer for sinners who are so blind that they do not desire to see.

O Lord my God, Thy words are words of life,
in which men would find (did they but seek
it there) the happiness for which they long.
But what marvel, O my God, that in the folly
and Weakness to which our evil works have
reduced us, we lose the recollection of Thy
sacred words? O great God, God of my heart,
Creator of all things, what is the whole creation
which Thou hast drawn out of nothing, in
comparison with what is ever in Thy power
to create? Thou art almighty, and Thy works
are incomprehensible. Suffer not Thy words,
then, O Lord, ever to depart from my mind.
Thou hast said : " Come to Me, all ye that labour
and are burdened, and I will refresh you."
What more do we desire, O my Divine Master?
what do we ask? what do we seek? and
wherefore do the slaves of the world perish, but
because they seek their refreshment and their
repose out of Thee? My God, my God, what
a mystery is this, what a fearful and pitiable
blindness thus to seek rest where it will never
be found! O my Creator, have compassion on
Thy creatures! Consider that we do not
understand ourselves, that we know not what
we want, and wander far away from the rest
which we desire. Give us light, O my God;
for we need it far more than the man who was
born blind. He desired ardently to behold the
light, which was hidden from him; but we are
blind, and will to remain so. What error is so
hopeless as this? Here, O Lord, is an occasion
to show forth Thy power, and to manifest the
infinite abundance of Thy mercy.

O God of my heart, only true God, it is a
great thing I ask of Thee, even to love those
who love Thee not, to open to those who do not
knock and to heal those who not only take
pleasure in their sickness, but labour to increase it. Thou hast said, O most sweet
Saviour Jesus, that Thou earnest upon earth
" to save sinners." Behold them here, O Lord,
sinners indeed. And Thou, O Heavenly Father, regard not, I beseech Thee, our blindness,
but behold the rivers of blood shed by Thy
Son for our redemption. Let Thy mercy
shine forth amid the darkness of our misery.
Remember, O Lord, that we are the work of
Thy Hands, and save us in Thy goodness and
Thy clemency.

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter IX

Prayer that God would deliver by His grace those who feel not their own misery, and seek not to be delivered from it.

Saviour of my soul, Who art all love and
compassion. Thou hast said: " Come to Me, all
you that are athirst, and I will give you to
drink." Burning, indeed, is the thirst of those
unhappy souls who are consumed by the desire
of earthly things; great need have they of that
heavenly water, lest they perish in those flames.

I know, O my loving Master, that Thou wilt
not refuse it to them, for Thou hast promised
it, and Thou canst not break Thy word. But
if they have grow up in the midst of those
flames, so as to have become unconscious of
their fury, if in their madness they perceive
not their exceeding peril, what remedy can be
applied to them? Yet it was to heal such
great evils that Thou earnest into the world.
Begin Thy work, then, O Lord, â€” begin with
them; for the tenderness and depth of Thy
compassion is most gloriously revealed in
healing the deepest and most inveterate wounds
of our souls.

Consider, O Lord, how Thine enemies daily
increase in boldness. Have pity on those who
have no pity on themselves; and since they will
not come to Thee, I beseech Thee, O Lord, to
come to them. I beseech Thee in their name,
for assuredly those dead men will arise and
come forth from their tombs, when once they
begin to see their own misery, and to know
Thee and taste the sweetness of Thy mercy.
O Life, Who alone givest life, refuse not to me
that living water which Thou hast promised to
all who desire it. I desire it, my Jesus, I ask
it, I come to Thee to receive it. Do not hide
Thyself from me, O Lord, for Thou knowest
how greatly I need it, and that there is no other
remedy for a soul which Thou hast wounded
with Thy love.

O my Saviour, what great cause have we to
fear, so long as we remain in this life, where
we are between two contrary fires! The one
shrivels and destroys the soul, the other purifies it, and prepares it for the eternal enjoyment of Thee. O living fountains, which flow
from the loving wounds of my God, how abundantly shall you flow even to the end of the
world, to refresh and strengthen our souls;
and how securely will he pass through the
perils of this miserable life, who drinks of your
life-giving waters!

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter X

How small is the number of the true servants of Godâ€” Prayer for those hardened souls who refuse to arise from the death of sin.

O God of my soul, how ready are we to offend
Thee, how still more ready art Thou to pardon
our offences! Whence, O Lord, does our insane presumption proceed? Is it that in the
greatness of Thy mercy we lose sight of the
greatness of Thy justice? " The sorrows of
death have encompassed me," said Thy prophet
of old, speaking in Thy person. O Heaven!
O Heaven! O Heaven! what a terrible thing
is sin, which encompassed God with sorrows,
which put God to death. O God of my
soul, these sorrows still encompass Thee!
Whither canst Thou go to escape them? Men
pierce and wound Thee mortally on every
side.

O Christians, it is time to rouse yourselves
in defence of your King, and to gather round
Him now that He is forsaken by all men. He
has but a very few faithful subjects left; the
multitude follows the standard of Lucifer.
And, what is more detestable still, traitors,
who call themselves His friends, betray Him
secretly, so that there is hardly any one in
whom He can confide. O only true Friend,
what an evil return does he make to Thee who
thus betrays Thee! O faithful Christians,
come, weep with your God; for the tears of
compassion which He shed over Lazarus were
not for him alone, but for all sinners to the end
of time who should obstinately refuse to leave
their tombs at the call of His Divine Voice.

O my Sovereign Good, how visibly present
to Thee at this hour are the sins which I have
committed against Thee! Make them to cease
from this moment, O Lord, make them to
cease, and with them the sins of the world.
Raise these dead souls; let Thy call be so
mighty as to awaken them to the life which
they have no power to ask, and at Thy voice
let them come forth from the sepulchre of their
false pleasures. O my Divine Master, Lazarus
asked Thee not to raise him. Thou didst work
that might J miracle at the prayer of a sinful woman; there is one now at Thy feet far more sinful than she; show forth, then, once more the
magnitude of Thy mercy; miserable as I am,
I ask it for those who will not ask it for themselves. Thou knowest, O my Sovereign Lord,
the anguish I endure when I see them in such
deep forgetfulness of the torments which they
must endure through all eternity, if they will
not return to Thee.

O you, who are accustomed to follow in all
things the caprices of your own will, and to
live in the pleasures, feastings, and enjoyments
of the world, have pity on "yourselves. Remember that a day will come when you will
be subjected for ever, ay, for ever, to all the
fury of the powers of hell. Remember that
the same Judge Who now beseeches you, will
then pronounce your sentence, and that you
are not assured of another moment of life.
Wherefore, then, do you refuse to live eternally?
Oh, the hardness of human hearts! Let Thy
boundless mercy soften them, O my God.

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter XI

Fearful state of a soul which, at the moment of death, hears the sentence of her eternal condemnation.

O MT God, my God, have mercy on me! How
shall I express what I feel at the thought of a
soul which, after having been loved, esteemed,
served, indulged, and cared for here, finds at
the last moment that she is hopelessly lost,
and that for all eternity? What a fearful
moment, when all the truths of faith, which
can no longer be overlooked and disregarded,
stand out in terrible reality before her! She
is torn away for ever from the pleasures which,
it seems to her, she had but just begun to
taste; and so it is in truth, for all that passes
away with life is but a fleeting breath. She
finds herself in the midst of that hideous and
cruel company amid which she must dwell for
ever. She takes her place in that noisome
lake, filled with serpents, which torture her
with their poisoned stings. She enters that
dismal darkness, enlightened only by a lurid
flame, which serves but to make visible the
horrible sights around her!

Oh, how weak are these words in comparison
with the reality! Who, then, O Lord, had
covered the eyes of that poor soul with so
thick a veil that she saw not the abyss before
her until she was engulfed in it for ever? Who,

Lord, had closed her ears, that she heard
not what she had been so often told of the
intensity and eternal duration of these torments? life without end, â€” O endless
punishment, â€” how is it that thou hast no terrors for those tender and delicate slaves of
their own bodies who fear to pass a single
night upon a hard bed?

O Lord my God, I weep over the time when

I did not understand these truths. And, since
Thou knowest the pain I suffer at the sight of
the number of unhappy souls who refuse to
listen to them, I beseech Thee now to enlighten
one soul, Lord, â€” at least one, â€” who may be
the means of enlightening many others. Heavenly Father, I ask it not in my own name,
for I am not worthy to be heard, but for the
merits of Thy Son. Look upon His Wounds,
and as He pardoned those who inflicted them,
so do Thou, great God, for His sake, pardon us.

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter XII

How cowardly men are in the service of God, how fearless in offending Him.

O MT God, my true Strength, how is it that we,
who are so cowardly in all things beside, are so
fearless in offending Thee? It is against Thee
that the children of Adam put forth all their
strength. Oh, excess of folly and blindness!
for if they had the full possession of their
reason, they would never dare, even with the
combined strength of the whole human race, to
take up arms against their Creator, and to
wage an incessant warfare against Him Who
could in one moment plunge them into the
abyss. But, in their blindness, they act like
madmen, they seek and find death where their
crazed imagination thought to find life. What
can be done, O God, for these poor distracted
souls, what remedy can cure their madness?
It is said that frenzy gives strength to the
weak; and truly it is so with those who depart from Thee. They yield basely and passively to the tyrant who rules over them, and
turn all their fury against Thee, Who hast laden
them with blessings. Oh, incomprehensible
wisdom of my God I Thou hast need of all
the love Thou bearest Thy creatures to endure
this madness of ours, to wait so patiently for
our recovery, and labour Thyself for our restoration in so many ways, and by the use of
so many Divine remedies. I am struck with
terror when I see men at the same time so
cowardly and so bold. When the slightest
exertion is to be made to avoid an occasion of
sin, or to escape some danger which threatens
the eternal loss of their souls, they are so fearful and faint-hearted, that they persuade themselves that they cannot do it if they would;
and, at the same time, O my God, they lack
not courage and audacity to attack a majesty
so awful as Thine.

How is this, Lord? Who gives them this
strength? Is it the leader whom they follow?
But is he not Thy slave, bound in eternal fire?
How can he raise his standard against Thee?
How can this vanquished wretch give courage
to others to resist Thee? How can they madly
choose to follow him who has been cast helpless
and destitute out of his heavenly inheritance?
What can he bestow whose only portion is
eternal ruin?

Why is this, then, my God? Why is it, my
Creator? Why are we so strong against Thee,
and so weak against the devil? If even, O
my King, Thou didst bestow no favour on
us in this life, if in this world we could obtain
something from the prince of darkness would
it not be folly to attach ourselves to him?
Thou, Lord, hast in reserve for us an eternity
of happiness without alloy, while he has but delusive pleasures to offer us, and promises which
lure us to perdition. How will he deal with
us, who has been a rebel and a traitor to Thee?
What strange blindness, what hopeless madness,
is this, O my King and my God! We serve
this. Thy mortal enemy, with Thine own gifts,
and we repay Thee for the excess of Thy love
to us by loving him who hates Thee, and who
will hate Thee throughout all eternity! Hast
Thou not done enough, O my loving Redeemer,
in the blood which Thou hast shed for us, the
stripes, the unspeakable anguish and excruciating torments which Thy love endured for us to
attach us for ever to thy service? And when
we ought to avenge the honour of Thy eternal
Father, so unworthily insulted in Thy person (for
thou, Lord, desirest no vengeance, but hast freely
pardoned all), ungrateful and insensible as we
are, we take for our friends and companions
those who have treated Thee with such barbarity. But since we choose to march under
the banner of their infernal captain, we shall
undoubtedly share their fate, and dwell with
them eternally in his company. Great God,
such is the miserable lot which awaits us,
unless Thy mercy restores us to ourselves and
forgives us the past.

O mortals, come to yourselves at last! Look
upon your King; you will find Him full of
clemency. Put an end, at last, to your ungrateful rebellion, and turn all your rage and all
your strength against that implacable enemy
who wages war against you. Come to your
senses at last, and, with loud cries and many
tears, ask light from Him Who giveth light to
the world. For the love of God, see whither
your impious warfare tends. You are using
all your strength to put to death once more
Him Who, to give you life, died upon the cross.
Consider that it is He Who defends you from
your enemies. And if all this is not enough,
let this truth at least affright you, that you
cannot resist His power, and that sooner or
later you will have to expiate your audacious
contempt of Him in eternal fire. Is it because
you behold that supreme "Majesty chained and
bound for the love of us that you thus audaciously offend Him? What more did His murderers do than load Him with blows and cover
Him with wounds, after having bound Him to the
pillar? O my God, what hast Thou suffered for
those who are so little moved by those sufferings! A day will come when Thy justice will burst
forth and show that it is equal to Thy mercy.

Christians, set these truths before you, and
make them the subject of your deepest meditation. Never shall we be truly able to understand
the munificence of our Lords gifts to us. Unless,
then, His justice were equal to His goodness,
what would become of those who have deserved to be tried and condemned by it?

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter XIII

Of the happiness of the Saints in heaven, and of the impatience of men who choose rather to enjoy for a moment the false pleasures of this life than to wait for the true and eternal joys of heaven.

O HOLT souls, how blessed is your lot, who
already enjoy, without a fear of ever losing it,
true and perfect felicity in heaven, and who
sing the praises of my God in an eternal transport of bliss! Well may you sing without interruption your canticles of joy! How envious
am I of your freedom from the anguish which
pierces my heart at the sight of the great offences committed in this miserable life against
my God, the marvellous ingratitude with which
His benefits are repaid, and the blind and
lamentable insensibility to the ruin of the multitude of souls which Satan drags down daily
into hell!

O blessed souls, heavenly souls, come to the
aid of our misery! Intercede for us with that
God Who is infinitely rich in mercy, that He
may shed into our hearts one drop of your
felicity, and cast upon our minds one ray of
the light which illuminates you! And do Thou,
O my God, vouchsafe to give us an idea of
that eternal weight of glory which Thou dost
prepare for those who fight courageously for
Thee during the short dream of this miserable
life! O loving souls, souls enkindled with the
love of your God, obtain for us some conception of your bliss in the certainty that your
happiness is eternal, and of the ever-new delight
with which you contemplate the certainty that
it will never end.

How great is our misery, O my God! It
seems that we are not ignorant of these truths,
and even that we believe them; but we are
so little accustomed to think of them, they are
so strange to us, that in fact we do not know
them, or desire to know them.

O selfish men, enslaved by your tastes and
your pleasures, is it possible that, rather than
wait a little time to possess the fulness of joy
â€” rather than wait a year, a day, an hour,
perhaps a moment â€” you carry your folly so
far as to sacrifice an eternity of happiness to
some miserable pleasure of sense!

O my God, how little confidence we have in
Thee, thus to refuse Thee a little time! and
how differently hast Thou dealt with us! O
loving Father, what inestimable riches hast
Thou intrusted to us -even Thy beloved Son,
with His thirty-three years of unspeakable
suffering, and the infinite merits of His cruel
and agonising death! And those priceless
blessings Thou didst lay up for us long centuries
before our birth, undeterred by the foresight
of our future ingratitude! Thou hast been
beforehand with us in all things; so that having such a treasure in our hands, it depends
upon us alone to make use of it to obtain eternal riches in heaven.

And you, O blessed souls, who have made
so profitable a use of the talents intrusted to
you, and have purchased therewith an inheritance of eternal joys, teach us to profit by your
example. Come to our aid; and since you are
BO near the Fountain of life, draw water from
it for us who are perishing with thirst in this
land of exile.

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter XIV

How sweet will be the countenance of out Lord Jesus Christ at the last judgment to the good, and how terrible to the wicked.

O MY God and my true Lord, he who knows
Thee not, loves Thee not What a momentous
truth is this! How greatly, O Lord, are they
to be pitied who will not know Thee! The
hour of death is a fearful hour; and how terrible, O my Creator, will be the day of Thy
just judgment! Jesus, my Saviour and my
only Good, I often think of the sweetness of
Thy countenance to those who love Thee, and
whom Thou dost vouchsafe to love. It seems
to me that one glance of those loving eyes is
a sufficient reward for long years of faithful
service.

Oh, how difficult it is to make this understood by those who know not by experience
the sweetness of the Lord! O Christians,
Christians, remember that you have been made
the brethren of this great God! Consider Who
He is, and despise Him not; for as His countenance is consoling to those who love Him,
so will it be terrible and full of wrath to His
enemies and persecutors. Oh, how far are we
from understanding that sin is nothing less
than a warfare which we carry on against God,
a conflict of all our senses and of all the powers
of our soul, which vie with each other in plotting treasons against their Creator and their
God!

Thou knowest, my loving Master, that the
mere thought of beholding Thy Divine countenance in anger at the dreadful judgment -day
has often caused me greater terror than all the
tortures and all the horrors of hell, and that I
then besought Thee, as I beseech Thee now, to
be pleased in Thy mercy to preserve me from
so dreadful an affliction. What evil could
befall me in any way approaching to this!
Let all other miseries combine to fall upon me,

my God, but deliver me from this eternal
anguish. Let me never abandon Thee, O my
Saviour, and let me never cease to enjoy the
vision of Thy Divine beauty. Thy Father
has given Thee to us; suffer me not, O my
dearest Master, to lose so precious a treasure.

I confess, eternal Father, that I have ill-guarded
it; but this fault is not irremediable, so long
as we are in this place of exile.

O my brethren, my brethren, who are like
me, the children of God, let us weep bitterly
over our past offences. You know He has said
that if we repent of them. He will remember
them no more. O boundless mercy! what more
do we desire? are we not ashamed even to ask
so much?

But it is our part to receive that which is
offered to us by the wondrous clemency of our
Lord and our God. Since, then, He desires
nothing from us but our love, who could refuse
it to Him Who has not refused to shed His
blood and to give His life for us!

Consider that He asks nothing of us but
for our own benefit. But, alas, O Lord,
what hardness, what madness, what blindness
do we show! We feel sensibly the loss of
some trifling object. The loss of a needle
troubles us. The falconer is grieved to lose his
hawk only for the delight which he takes in
seeing it soar into the air; and we are insensible
to the loss of this Royal Eagle, to the loss of
the Majesty of God Himself, and of the eternal
kingdom and the endless happiness which He
has prepared for us. How is this, O Lord?
How can this be? I confess that I understand it not. Deliver us, O Lord, from this
amazing folly; heal us of this exceeding
blindness.

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter XV

The consolation of the soul under the weariness of her long exile.

Alas, alas, O my God, how long is the time of
this banishment; and how I pine with the
desire to behold Thee! My loving Master, what
can the soul do which is held captive in this
prison? O Jesus, how long is the life of man,
although we say that it is short! It is short,
indeed, to gain an endless life; but it is very
long to a soul consumed with desire to behold
her God. What solace, O Lord, dost Thou
give to this martyrdom?

There is none, but to endure it for the love
of Thee. O my God, sweet repose of those
who love Thee, withdraw not Thyself from a
heart which seeks Thee; for Thou alone dost
increase and sweeten the torments which Thy
love inflicts upon the soul.

I am consumed, O Lord, with the desire to
please Thee, and out of Thee I can find no
consolation in this world. Wilt Thou be displeased with my desire to come to Thee? behold me, then, at Thy feet, O Lord. If it
be necessary that I should live to do Thee
some service, I willingly accept, like Thy great
lover Martin, all the labours and sufferings
which await me upon earth; but, alas, alas, my
loving Master, who am I, and who was he?
He had works, and I have but words; these
are all that I can offer Thee. Let my desires,
O my God, be accounted for something before
Thee, and regard not my want of merit. Grant,
O Lord, that we may all deserve to love Thee,
since we must live, let us live for Thee. Let
us cease at last to follow our own desires and
our own interests; for what better can we seek
or gain but to please Thee? O my God, O
my Joy, what shall I do to please Thee?
Miserable and defective are all my services,
even if I. were able to render Thee many.
Wherefore, then, should I be chained longer in
this sad prison-house? I understand, O Lord;
it is that I may accomplish Thy will. What
greater blessing can I desire? Wait, then,
wait, then, O my soul, for thou knowest neither
the day nor the hour; watch diligently, for all
shall pass away quickly, though to thy eager
desire what is certain seems doubtful, and what
is short seems long. Consider that the longer
the time of thy conflict for God, the more wilt
thou manifest thy love towards Him, and the
greater will be thy enjoyment of thy loving
Lord in an eternity of joy and felicity.

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter XVI

That God alone can give relief to the soul which He has wounded with His love.

O MT God and my only Master, it is a great
consolation to the soul which feels the anguish
of solitude in her absence from Thee, to reflect
that Thou art present every where. But this
thought fails to comfort her when the transports
of her love become more vehement, and the
pain of Thine absence is more cruelly felt.
Her mind is disturbed, her reason is overcast,
and this consoling truth is veiled from her.
Her mind is filled with one thought, â€” that she
so far from Thee; and she finds no balm for the
wound inflicted by Thine absence. For the
heart which loves intensely can receive neither
counsel nor consolation except from Him Who
has wounded it with His love, and Who only
can apply a remedy to the wound He has
inflicted. When Thou wilt, O Lord, Thou
canst quickly heal that wound; but, until Thou
heal it, for that soul there is neither healing
nor consolation but in suffering for Thee. O
true Lover of our souls, with what goodness,
what sweetness, what unspeakable tokens of
tenderness, what joy infused into the very
inmost heart, with what abundant consolation,
dost Thou heal the wounds inflicted by the
arrows of Thy love! But, O my God, my consolation in all my sufferings, what need have I
to say that Thou alone canst heal them?

What folly, what madness would it be, to
imagine that any human remedy could heal
those who have been wounded by the fire of
Thy Divine love! Who in this world can
fathom the depth of those wounds, ascertain
their cause, or prescribe relief to tortures so
cruel and yet so sweet! Too precious is this
suffering to be relieved by the poor art of men.

Well may the Spouse say in the Canticle:
"My Beloved is mine, and I am His." My
Beloved is mine, she says; for it is not possible
that love like this should begin with any thing
so mean as my love. But, if my love be so
mean, whence comes it, O my Divine Spouse, that
it stops at no created thing, and can ascend
even to its Creator? And why, O my God,
why does my Beloved call me His? O true
Lover of my soul, it is Thy work; it is Thou
Who dost begin this contest of love. Thou
dost hide Thyself, and, behold, all the senses
and all the powers of the soul are filled with
anxiety, and experience the desolation of being
forsaken by Thee. Wounded by Thee, O
Sovereign Beauty, and left afar off from Thee,
they seek Thee, like the spouse of the Canticle,
in the streets and public places, and implore
the daughters of Jerusalem to give them tidings
of their God. When this conflict has once
begun, what shall they do? Against whom
shall they go forth to battle, but against Him
Who has already possession of the fortress
wherein they dwell, t.e. of the superior part
of the soul? O my Beloved, if Thou hast
banished them thence, it is but to give them
the merit of reconquering their Conqueror, â€”
that, weary of Thy absence, they may hasten
to lay down their arms, that they may become
stronger by the loss of their strength, and fight
more successfully for their defeat; in short,
that, by acknowledging themselves conquered,
they may triumph over their Conqueror. O
my soul, what a fearful conflict hadst thou to
sustain when thou wast in this strait; and
how faithful is the picture I have drawn of it!
My Beloved is, then, mine, and I am His, Who
will undertake to part or to quench these two
ardent fires? Assuredly he would labour in
vain, for those two burning hearts are now but
one.

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

Chapter XVII

That we know not what to ask of God â€” Ardent desires to leave this world, in order to enjoy perfect liberty, which consists in freedom from the possibility of sinning.

O MY God! Wisdom, boundless, infinite, beyond
the conception of Angels or of men! O Love,
past comprehension I Who lovest me infinitely
more than I can love myself, to Thee do I
abandon myself. And wherefore, my loving
Master, should I desire more than it is Thy
will to give me? Why should I weary myself
in asking for the desires of my own heart?
Thou seest clearly whither tend all the thoughts
of my mind and all the desires of my heart;
but I know it not myself. I know not what is
good for me; so I may find that to be a loss
which I believed to be a gain. Were I, for
example, to ask of Thee to deliver me from
some suffering which Thou hadst appointed for
my mortification, what, O my God, should I be
asking of Thee? If I were to ask Thee to
send me this suffering, perhaps it would be
beyond the power of my weak patience to
endure; or, if I were to come out victorious
from the trial, perhaps â€” being so imperfect in
humility â€” I might imagine that I had done
something, whereas it is Thou alone, O God,
who dost all things. Were I to pray for suffering,
it would, perhaps, be in something which would
not touch my honour and reputation, which I
judge to be necessary for Thy service, â€” and this,
as it seems to me, from no motive of self-love.
And yet that which appears to me to be a
diminution of reputation might be just that
which in Thy Divine purpose was intended to
increase it, so as to give me greater power to
serve Thee, the only end which I have in view.
I could add many other things to prove to
myself that I do not understand myself. But
as I know that they are known to Thee, why
should I say more? or why have I said even
this? O my God, it is that on the days in
which I feel my misery most deeply, when my
reason is covered with a thick cloud, I may
seek and endeavour to find myself in these
words which I have written. I often feel myself so miserable, so weak, so cowardly, that I
wonder what has become of Thy servant, of
her who believed that, in the power of the
graces she had already received from Thee, she
could face all the storms of this world. No,
my God, I will never henceforth trust to any
thing I might desire for myself. My will shall
be that Thy Will should ordain for me whatsoever shall please Thee, because my only good
consists in pleasing Thee; and if Thou, my God,
wert to grant me all that I desire, I see plainly
that I should destroy myself.

How blind is the wisdom of men! how
deceitful is their foresight! O my God, Whose
knowledge is infallible, vouchsafe to order
things for me according to Thy Will, and not
according to my own. Punish me not, O
Lord, by granting me what I ask or desire,
when it is not in conformity with the purposes
of Thy love. May that Divine love burn
eternally in my heart! â€” this is my only desire.
May self die within me from this moment, and
may Another, greater than myself, and Who
loves me better than I love myself, live and
reign in my soul! May He live and give me
life; may He reign, and may I be His captive!
my soul desires no other liberty. How could
he be free who is not subject to the Almighty?
Can any captivity be heavier or more miserable
than that of a soul which has escaped from the
hands of its Creator? Happy are they, O
Lord, who are so strongly bound to Thee by
the chains of Thy mercies and Thy benefits,
that they have no power to break them.
" Love is strong as death, it is hard and inflexible as hell." Oh, happy is he who receives his death-stroke from Thy hand, and is
cast by Thee into that hell of Divine love,
whence he hopes not, or rather fears not, ever
to depart!

Alas, O Lord, as long as this fleeting life
endures, the life of eternity is always in peril!
O life, the hindrance to my happiness, why
am I not permitted to put an end to thee! I
endure thee because my God endures thee; I
take care of thee because thou art His; do not,
then, betray me, do not be ungrateful to me.
O Lord, how long does my banishment endure?
Doubtless the longest pilgrimage is short to
gain Thine eternity; but how long is a single
day, a single hour, to the soul that knows not
but that she may offend Thee, and fears that
she shall offend Thee? O free-will, what a
miserable slave art thou to thy liberty, unless
thou art fixed by the love and by the fear of
Him Who created thee! Oh, when will that
happy day come when thou shalt be plunged
into the infinite ocean of the Sovereign Truth;
when thou shalt no longer have or desire to
have liberty to sin, because thou shalt be free
from all imperfection, and blissfully united to
thy God, to live for all eternity the very life
of thy Creator and thy Master! He is happy
because He knows Himself, loves Himself, and
enjoys Himself, without the possibility of doing
otherwise. He has not, and He cannot have,
liberty to forget Himself, or to cease to love
Himself, for in Him such liberty would be an
imperfection. O my soul, thou wilt never
enter into thy rest until thou shalt be perfectly
united with thy Sovereign Good, until thou
shalt know what He knows, love what He
loves, and enjoy what He enjoys. Then shall
there be no more change or inconstancy in thy
will, for the grace of God will have so marvellously transformed thee, it will have made thee
in so perfect a degree to partake in the Divine
nature, that thou wilt no longer be able to forget that Sovereign Good, nor to desire to be
able to forget Him, nor to cease to enjoy Him
in the eternal fruition of His love.

Blessed are they who are written in the Book
of that immortal life. But, my soul, if thou
art of this number, "why art thou so sorrowful, and why dost thou trouble me? Hope
in God;" for in this exile I will still confess my
sins to Him, and will declare His mercies.
This canticle of praise I will sing to my Saviour
and my God, and will mingle my sighs therewith. A day will come, I hope, when I shall
sing His glory alone, for then my soul shall
feel no longer the bitterness of compunction;
all her sighs and fears shall be over for ever.
But until then, " in silence and in hope shall
be my strength." I choose rather to live and
to die in the hope of eternal life, and in labouring to attain it, than to possess all that this
world contains, with all its fleeting pleasures.
"Forsake me not, O Lord, for in Thee do I
hope. Let not my hope be confounded."
Make me always to serve Thee, and do with
me what Thou wilt.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter I

Motives of S. Teresa for the establishment of her reform.

Just when I was beginning the foundation of
the monastery of S. Joseph at Avila, I heard
of the troubles in France, of the ravages caused
there by the heretics, and how they were daily
gaining strength. All this touched me keenly.
I wept in the presence" of God, and implored
Him to provide some remedy for so great an
evil. It seemed to me as though I would
willingly have given a thousand lives to save
even one of the vast number of souls who were
destroying themselves in that kingdom. But since
I was only a woman â€” and so wicked a woman
tooâ€” as well as very incapable of rendering to
God such service as I desired, I thought â€” as
I still think â€” that since He has so many enemies
and so few friends, I ought to use every exertion to make those friends as good as possible.
Thus I resolved to do all which depended
on me, to practise the evangelical counsels with
the greatest perfection, and to try to induce
the religious with whom I lived to do the
same. For the fulfilment of this design, I
trusted in the great goodness of God, Who
never fails to help those who have renounced
all for the love of Him. I hoped that these
good daughters being such as my desires pictured them, my faults would be covered by
their virtues; and I thought that we could
please Gk)d by giving ourselves up to prayer
for preachers and ecclesiastics and for learned
men who write in defence of the Church. O
my Redeemer! how can I enter on this subject
without my heart being torn to pieces? Who
now are Christians? Must Thy greatest enemies, then, be found amongst those whom
Thou dost choose as Thy friends, upon whom
Thou dost shower down Thy choicest favours,
in the midst of whom Thou dwellest, and to
whom Thou dost communicate Thyself through
the Sacraments? Truly, my God, they who
now quit the world, quit nothing; for what
can we expect from men, since they show so
little fidelity to Thee? Do we deserve that
they should treat us better than they treat
Thee? have we done them more good than
Thou hast done, that so we may hope that they
will love us better than they love Thee? What
can we, then, expect from the world, who, by
the mercy of God, have been snatched from
the midst of its contagious and fatal atmosphere?

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter II

The true nature of union with God.

I HAVE met with some who seem to imagine that the essential point in prayer is the
exercise of the understanding; and if they can
keep their mind fixed on God, though by using
great violence to themselves, they immediately
consider themselves to be very spiritual persons, and if they experience involuntary distractions, or are obliged to turn their minds to
any thing else, even to things good and meritorious, they immediately become greatly afflicted, and fancy they are doing nothing.

But the true proficiency of the soul consists, not in much thinking, but in much loving. And if you ask me how this love may
be acquired, I answer, by resolving to do the
Divine Will, and to suffer for God, and by
so doing and so suffering when occasions for
action and suffering arise.

Oh, how does Divine charity press the
heart of those who truly love the Lord and
know the desires of His Heart! How little
rest do they take, if they can be of any use in
advancing the welfare of a soul, and increasing her love of God; or if they can give her
any comfort, or free her from any danger!

How little do such souls look to their own
interest or their own ease! And when they
can do no good by their works, they endeavour
to do something by their prayers, importuning
our Lord in behalf of those numerous souls
whom they grieve to see in danger of eternal
destruction; and thus bewailing their lot, they
sacrifice their own repose, and pay no regard
to their own happiness, considering how they
may best accomplish the will of God. And
thus it is with obedience : it would be a strange
thing if, when God clearly tells us to do something for Him, we should choose rather to
stand gazing upon Him, because we could
thus please ourselves most! This would be
a strange way of advancing in the love of God;
to bind His hands, and compel Him to lead
us onward in a way of our own choosing! O
Lord, how far are Thy ways above our thoughts!
And what dost Thou require of a soul which is
already determined to love Thee, and give herself
entirely into Thy hands, but that she should be
obedient, that she should inquire in all things
what tends most to Thy glory, and ardently
desire to execute it? She has no need to seek
out new paths, or to choose between them, for
her will is now Thy will. Thou, O Lord,
takest upon Thyself the care of leading her
in the path wherein she shall make the greatest progress. And though the superior may
not take the trouble of guiding her in the way
most advantageous to her, but may employ her
only in those duties which he thinks will tend
most to the good of the community, yet Thou,
O my Gk)d, dost conduct her disposing her and
all her employments in such a manner that
without understanding how â€” she finds herself
making great spiritual progress, obeying with
such fidelity every command of her superiors,
as is matter of astonishment even to herself.
Such a soul was a religious with whom I spoke
a few days ago, who, by obedience, had for
fifteen years been so engaged in his duties and
offices, that during all this period he did not
remember to have had one hour for himself.
All that he could do was to steal some spare
time in the day to devote to prayer, and to
attend carefully to the purifying of his conscience. This was the most obedient soul I
ever knew, and he even imprints this virtue on
all with whom he converses. Our Lord has
liberally rewarded him; for, without his knowing how, he enjoys that precious liberty of
soul which the perfect possess, and in which
consists all the happiness that can be hoped
for in this life; for, desiring nothing, he possesses all things. Such souls neither fear nor
covet any thing on earth; afflictions do not disturb them, neither does pleasure elate them;
nothing, in short, can rob them of their peace,
because nothing can deprive them of God, on
Whom alone it depends: the fear of losing
Him is the only thing which could disturb
them. Every thing else in this world is in their
eyes as if it were not, because it neither gives
nor takes away their joy. O blessed obedience!
blessed even in the distractions which it imposes, since the soul is thereby raised to so
high a degree of perfection!

Courage, then, my daughters; let there be
no sadness, when obedience calls you to exterior employments â€” as, for example, into the
kitchen, amidst the pots and dishes; remember
that our Lord goes along with you to help you
both in your exterior and interior duties. I
remember a religious once told me that he had
determined within himself always to do whatever his superiors should command him, no
matter what trouble it might give him. One
evening, being quite spent with labour, and not
able to stand on his legs, he wished to rest
himself. No sooner had he sat down, than his
superior came and found him, and bade him
take a spade and go dig in the garden. The
good man said nothing, though so completely
exhausted; he took his spade, and as he was
going into the garden by a certain passage â€”
which I saw a great many years after this was
related to me, when I founded a house in that
very town â€” our Lord appeared to him with his
cross on his shoulders, and so faint and weary
as to make him understand that what he then
suffered was nothing in comparison with what
his Saviour had endured.

I believe that it is because the devil knows
well that there is no path which leads us
sooner to the highest perfection than that of
obedience, that he raises so many difficulties
under the semblance of good, to disgust us
with it. Let this truth be well understood,
and men will clearly see that the highest perfection does not consist in interior joys, nor in
sublime raptures, nor in visions, nor in having
the gift of prophecy, but in bringing our will
into such conformity with the Will of God, that
whatever we know He desires, that also shall
we desire with our whole affection, receiving
what is bitter as joyfully as what is sweet and
pleasant, if only it be according to the Will of
His Divine Majesty.

I particularly wish it to be understood that
the reason why obedience, in my opinion, is
so speedy and so sure a means of arriving at
this happy state is, that in order so to master
our own will as to be able to devote it wholly
and sincerely to God, it must be subject to
reason, and obedience is the shortest and moat
efficacious means of bringing it into this subjection. To attempt to effect this by arguments
is never to come to a conclusion, and is a dangerous method withal, for nature and self-love will always have so many good reasons on
the other side, that we should never come to a
conclusion; for that which our reason sees to be
best, often appears to us foolish, because we
have no mind to do it.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter III

The love of Godâ€” Its signs and its benefits.

OUR good Master, give us some weapon of
defence, that we may escape the snares of our
enemy in our dangerous warfare! Those, my
daughters, which His Majesty has given us to
use are love and fear; for love will make us
quicken our pace, and fear will make us cautious where we set our feet, that we may not
fall on the road where there are so many
stumbling-blocks amidst which we must travel
as long as we live : thus armed, I can safely
assure you that you shall not be deceived.

You may ask me by what means you shall
discover whether you possess these virtues of
hope and fear. You have reason for asking
this question, for a certain and clear proof
thereof cannot be given; because, were we
sure that we possessed the love of God, we
should be also sure of being in a state of grace.
But observe, sisters, there are some proofs
which it seems even the very blind can see;
they are not secret, and though we should not
wish to hear them, they cry aloud, and will be
heard; for there are few who have them in'
perfection, and therefore they are the more
manifest in those who have. The love and
fear of God are like two strong castles, whence
war is made against the world and the devil.
Those who truly love God, love all good, seek
all good, encourage all good, commend all good,
always unite themselves with the good, and
acknowledge and defend the good. They love
nothing but truth, and such things as are
worthy to be loved. Do you think it possible
for those who sincerely love God to love vanities, or riches, or worldly things, or pleasures,
or honours? They have no quarrels, they
bear no envy; their only object is to please
their Beloved alone; they are dying of the desire for His love, and thus they spend their
lives in studying how they may please Him
best. It is impossible that the love of God,
if it be indeed His true love, should be concealed, as we see in the examples of S. Paul
and S. Mary Magdalen. The one appeared
first on the third, the other from the first, day
visibly wounded by the love of God; for there
are different degrees of love, and it is more or
less visible according to its strength. If it is
slight, it manifests itself but little; if great, it
manifests itself more fully; but wherever there
is a love of God, be it great or little, it will
reveal itself â€” if great, by great effects; if little,
by trifling ones.

It will not, then, be difficult for you to recognise that love if it be true, â€” and I do not
understand how it can remain hidden; for if
we are told that it is impossible to hide the
love we bear to creatures, and that the more
we endeavour to do so, the more surely it reveals itself, how should it be possible to conceal so ardent a love as that which we bear to
God â€” a love which is so just, a love which is
ever increasing, because it is ever discovering
a thousand new reasons for loving, without
finding one against it; and, lastly, a love whose
foundation and reward is the love of God, Who,
that we might never doubt His love, has manifested it to us by so many labours and sorrows,
even by the sacrifice of His own life?

Alas, my Saviour, how easily do they who
have experienced these two kinds of love discern the difference between them! I implore
Thy Divine Majesty to manifest it to us whilst
we are still in this life. For what a consolation will it be at the hour of our death to know
that we are going to be judged by Him Whom
we have loved above all things! We shall
carry to Him fearlessly the schedule on which
is inscribed the debt we owe Him, and we shall
not look upon heaven as a foreign land, but as
our own true country; since He is there Whom
we have loved so much, and Who also has
loved us so much â€” that love having this advantage over all earthly love, that, provided we
love Him, we cannot doubt that He loves us.

Consider how great a happiness it is to possess this love, and what a misfortune not to
possess it; since, if we have it not, we fall into
the cruel hands of the tempter, the enemy of
all good, and the friend of every kind of evil.
To what, then, will that poor soul be reduced
when, having passed through the pains and
horrors of death, it shall find itself encircled by
those cruel and pitiless hands, and, instead of
enjoying some repose after so many sufferings,
will be precipitated at once into the abyss of
hell, where a horrible multitude of serpents
surround it on all sides! What a terrible and
frightful abode! what a deplorable and miserable resting-place! If those persons who love
their ease, and who run the greatest risk of
falling into this misery, can scarcely bear, even
for a single night, the discomforts of a bad
lodging, what do you think they will have to
endure in passing a whole eternity in that
frightful dwelling? Let us not desire to live
at our ease; we are well off as we are : the
inconveniences of this present life may be compared to a night passed in some wretched inn.
Let us praise God for our sufferings; and whilst
we are in this world, let our life be ever one of
penance.

Oh, how sweet will be his death who shall
have done penance for all his sins, so that,
escaping purgatory, he may, from the moment
he quits this life, enter on the glory of the
blessed; and thus freed from every kind of fear,
he shall enjoy perfect peace! Would it not be
great cowardice not to aspire to this happiness,
since its attainment is not impossible? At
least let us ask of God, that if our soul, when
it quits the body, must be' in a state of suffering, it may be in a place where we shall endure
it willingly, where we may live in hope of its
consummation, and where we shall not fear
that our Divine Spouse has ceased to love us,
or has deprived us of His grace.

I have been very diffuse on this subject, yet
not so much so as I could have desired; for
what is more delightful than to speak of such
a love? What, then, is its possession? O
Lord, give it me, if it so please Thee. Grant
me grace not to quit this life until I no longer
desire any thing, nor am capable of loving anything, save Thee alone. Grant also, if it please
Thee, that I may use this word 'love' with
regard to Thee alone, since there is no solidity
save in Thee; and every thing which is not
founded on Thee must speedily fall to the
ground. We often hear it said by persons in
the world, "Such a one has never repaid my
kindness," or "Another one does not love me."
Truly I can scarcely help laughing when I hear
it; for what does that person owe you? and on
what do you found your claim that she should
love you? It should only make you see more
clearly what the world is, since the very love
you bear her will become to you a cause of
torment and disquietude. When God has once
truly touched your heart, you will bitterly regret having allowed it to be taken up by these
lower affections, which, in comparison with His
love, are nothing but children's play.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter IV

The way of perfection is sweeter than men suppose.

O Lord my God, how plainly does Thy omnipotence appear! We may not question what
Thou wiliest, since Thou makest all things
possible, however impossible they may seem
to nature, that so we may understand that nothing more is required but only to love Thee
sincerely, and to forsake every thing in good
earnest for Thy sake, that Thou, O my Lord,
mayst make every thing easy for us. It would
seem that Thou wouldst fain persuade us that
there is some difficulty in observing Thy law;
but I see none, O Lord, nor do I understand
how the road which leads to Thee can be
called strait. I find it a royal road, and not
a narrow path â€” a road along which he who
walks courageously, walks securely. As it is
far removed from the occasions of sin, we meet
with no stumbling-stones or other hindrances
thereon. But I call that a narrow path and
very dangerous which has a steep precipice on
either side, down which a single false step may
cast the careless traveller, and dash him to A
thousand pieces. He that loves Thee, O eternal God, and gives himself without reserve to
Thee, walks securely along this broad and
royal road; and if, perchance, he stumbles,
Thou, O Lord, dost stretch forth Thy Hand to
hint; and if he should sometimes fall, yet such
a fall â€” nay, even many falls â€” will not destroy
him, if only he love Thee, and not the things
of this world, and still hold fast his humility.

I cannot understand why men are so afraid
of entering upon the way of perfection. May
our Lord grant us in His goodness to understand what a poor security is to be found in
the midst of so many manifest dangers as are
to be met with hi following the maxims and
opinions of the world, and that true security
consists in endeavouring to advance still further and further in the way of God t Let us
fix our eyes upon Him, and fear not that this
Sun of Justice will set or leave us wandering
by night. We shall not be lost, if we do not
first abandon Him. Men fear not to go among
lions, every one of which is ready to tear them
in pieces, â€” I mean what the world calls honours,
pleasures, and delights; whereas here the devil
makes us afraid of little mice. A thousand
times have I been astonished at this, and ten
thousand times have I desired to proclaim aloud
with tears my great blindness and wickedness,
if so I might prevail upon others to open their
eyes to these truths. May He open them Who
can do so in His goodness! and may He never
allow mine to become blind again! Amen.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter V

Great benefit of courage in the service of God.

His Majesty loves courageous souls, if only
their courage be accompanied by humility,
and they be free from confidence in themselves.
I have never seen one of such souls lag behind
on the road; and, on the other hand, I have
never seen any cowardly soul, however humble
it might be, advance as much in many years
as a generous soul in a very short space of
time. I am amazed when I consider how
much may be done by animating ourselves to
do great things; for though the soul may not
have sufficient strength to perform them immediately, yet she takes a flight which will
enable her to soar very high, though, like a
bird whose wings are yet weak, she grows
weary at times, and is constrained to take some
repose. I have often been helped by considering the words of S. Paul : " I can do all things
in Him Who strengthens me." As for myself,
I knew well I could do nothing. I have also
gained great profit from the words of S.
Augustine: " Give what Thou commandest, and
command what Thou wilt." I have often
thought that S. Peter took no harm by throwing himself into the sea, though afterwards he
was afraid. These first resolutions are of
great importance, though it is necessary that
we should proceed with discretion, and do nothing without the advice of a director. But
we must take care that he be not one who will
teach us to creep along in the way of perfection; and humility must ever be our guide,
that we may understand that our strength
comes from God alone.

We must first understand, however, what
kind of humility this must be; for I think the
devil does great injury to those who practise
prayer, and prevents them from advancing, by
giving them a false idea of the true nature of
humility, and by making them think it a
species of pride to have heroic desires, to wish
for martyrdom, and to imitate the Saints. He
tells us, or leads us to suppose, that the actions
of the Saints are to be admired, but not to be imitated, by us sinners. This I say likewise; but
I say, moreover, that we must consider what is
only to be admired, and what may be imitated,
by us. It would not be fit, for example, for a
weak and sickly person to fast much, or to use
severe penances, or to go into a desert where
he could find neither food nor any thing else
needful for him. But we should be convinced
that we may, by the Divine assistance, strive
to have a great contempt for the world, and
for its honours and riches. We may. also imitate the Saints in loving solitude, keeping
silence, and practising many other virtues
which will not destroy these miserable bodies,
which we preserve so carefully even at the risk
of injuring our souls. The devil does much on
his part to foster this excessive care of our
body; for when he sees that we have some little
fear about our health, he desires nothing more
to persuade us that the slightest thing will be
enough to kill us, or at least to destroy our
health; and if we should have the gift of tears,
he will try to make us fear we shall lose our
'sight thereby. I have passed through these
temptations, and, therefore, I know what they
are; and I know also that we cannot desire a
better use of life or health than to lose them
both in such a cause. Being so weak in health
myself, I was unable to do any thing, till I resolved to make no account at all of my health,
nor to care for my body : even now I can do
but little; but as soon as our Lord was
pleased to discover to me this trick of the
devil, I told him, whenever he represented to
me the danger of losing my health, that my
death would be of little consequence; if he
represented to me the necessity of rest, I told
him that it was not ease that I now wanted,
but the cross; and so on. Though I am still
very infirm, I see clearly that in n\any instances my infirmities were increased by the
temptations of the devil, or by my own cowardice, and, as I am not so nice and delicate as
formerly, I now enjoy much better health than
in the days when I took so much care of it.
It is therefore, of great importance that those
who begin to practise mental prayer be not
disturbed or terrified by these over-anxious
thoughts. Let them believe me on this point,
for I have had some experience therein; and
perhaps it may be of some use to mention these
my faults, that so others may take warning by
my example.

There is also another temptation against
which, though it takes the semblance of a zeal
for virtue, it is necessary to be on our guard,
arising from the trouble which we feel on account of the sins and defects which we observe
in others. The devil endeavours to persuade
U8 that this grief arises only from our desire
that they should not offend God, and that we
are troubled because His honour is insulted.
Then we immediately desire to remedy this
evil and thus become so restless that our
prayer is disturbed; and the greatest misfortane
is, that we think this to be virtue, perfection,
and great zeal for God's glory. I speak not of
that affliction which is caused by public sins,
if such lire committed in a community, nor of
other calamities of the Church, â€” such as
heresies, whereby we see that so many souls
are lost; for this is a very holy affliction, and
being holy, it does not disturb the soul. But
the secure way for a soul which practises
prayer is to detach itself from all things, and
to think only of itself and of how it may please
God. Let us, then, always endeavour to consider the virtues and good qualities which we
perceive in others, and to conceal their defects
by the consideration of our own great sins.
The reflection that they are better than we,
will lead us in time to the attainment of great
perfection.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter VI

Various ways of deceiving ourselves.

I KNEW a person very intimately who communicated often, never spoke ill of any one,
had great tenderness in prayer, lived at home
in almost continual solitude, and was so sweet-tempered, that whatever was said to her, she
never gave way to anger : which I look upon as
no small degree of virtue. She had never been
married, and was no longer of an age to marry;
and she had suffered much adversity without murmuring. Seeing her in this state, and
being unable to remark any sin in her, and
learning also that she watched over all her
actions very narrowly, I looked upon her as a
person much given to prayer, and a very perfect soul : but when I came to know her more
intimately, I found that she was only calm when
her own interest was not concerned, and that
as soon as this was touched, she at once showed
herself to be as sensitive as I had believed her
to be detached; that notwithstanding the seeming patience with which she listened to what
was said to her, so full was she of self-esteem,
that she could not bear the least allusion which
might detract from her dignity; and that she
had so great a curiosity to know all that was
going on, and took so much pleasure in her
own ease and comfort, that I found it difficult
to understand how she could remain for even
one hour in solitude. She justified her actions
in such a manner, that (to believe her) it would
have been a grievous wrong to her to look
upon any one of them as a sin. Thus, whilst
nearly every one considered her as a Saint, she
filled me with compassion, particularly when
I observed that all the persecutions which she
told me she had suffered had arisen chiefly
from her own fault; so I did not envy her
sanctity. This person, and two others whom I
have known, who like her believed themselves
to be Saints, have inspired me with greater
fear than the greatest sinners I have ever
known.

Implore God, my daughters, to enlighten us
with His grace, that we may never be deceived
in this manner, and thank Him earnestly for
having bestowed on us so great a favour as to
bring us into a house consecrated to His
service, where, whatever efforts the devil may
make to blind us, he cannot so easily succeed
as if we were in the world; for though, amongst
seculars, there are some who, in their anxiety
to be perfect, believe that they are already fit
for heaven, it is hard to know whether they are
really such as they fancy themselves; but in
monasteries this is more easily discerned, and
I have never had any difficulty in discerning
it, because there, instead of fulfilling our own
will, we must do what is commanded us; and,
on the contrary, those who live in the world,
although they may have a true desire to please
God, to see their own character clearly, and
not to deceive themselves, cannot avoid this
danger, because they act according to their own
will, or if they sometimes resist it is not with
so great a mortification of their will as that of
religious. We must except those persons who
submit themselves to a director capable of
guiding them, their true humility not allowing
them to place much confidence in themselves.
There are others, who, after our Lord has given
them grace to understand the nothingness of
all things here below, have, out of love to Him,
renounced riches and pleasures in order to
embrace a life of penance : but they value their
own reputation so highly, and are, in consequence, so discreet and prudent, that they
desire also to do nothing which may not be
pleasing in the eyes of men. These two things,
my daughters, do not agree: and the misfortune
is, that these persons are so little aware of
their error, that they always take the side of
the world rather than that of God.

The greater number know not how to bear
the slightest thing which is said to their disadvantage, although their conscience convicts
them of its truth. This is not to embrace the
cross, it is but to drag it; can we wonder that
it seems to them so heavy? Whereas, one
who loves it, finds it easy, not only to embrace,
but even to carry it I conjure you, my
daughters, to consider deeply that in consequence of the vow which you have made, the
world should henceforth be as nothing to you.
What! after having renounced your own will,
which is of all things the most difficult, can you
retain any affection for that delusive sort of
happiness which is to be found in riches,
honours, and pleasures? What do you fear?
Do you not perceive that in order to prevent
worldly people thinking or saying something to
your disadvantage, you would be obliged to
take incredible pains to please them?

There are other persons (and I shall finish
with them), of whom, when we examine their
actions, we have reason to believe that they
have made great progress, and who, nevertheless, remain half-way on the road. They do
not pause at what may be said of them, nor on
this false point of honour; but they do not
exercise themselves in mortification, nor do
they renounce their own will. Though they
seem ready to suffer every thing and pass for
Saints, yet if some important occasion regarding
the glory of God presents itself, they prefer
their own to His. Nevertheless, they do not
perceive it, and imagine, on the contrary, that
they are thinking only of God, and not of the
world, when they dread what may be the
result, and fear that a good work may produce a great evil. It would appear as though
the devil taught them to prophesy evils to
come a thousand years before they come to
pass.

These persons would not, like S. Peter, throw
themselves into the sea, neither would they
imitate the numberless other Saints who have
not feared to resign their repose and to risk their
lives in the service of their neighbour. They
are very willing to help souls to draw near to
our Lord, provided such aid does not trouble
their own peace, and that it involves them in
no peril.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter VII

On the contempt of worldly honour.

When our Lord begins to give some degree
of virtue to a soul, it ought carefully to
cherish it, lest it run the risk of losing it;
this holds good in matters relating to our
reputation and honour as well as in many
others. For we, who think ourselves to be
entirely disengaged from all things, are often
not so in reality; hence we have great need
to be careful in this respect, â€” for if any
one still feels any concern for the point of
honour, let him believe me that his soul is
bound by a chain which no file can sever, but
the grace of God, united with prayer and our
own endeavours; and this chain seems to me
so strong, that I am not surprised that it so
greatly impedes our progress. I know some
persons whose actions are so holy and sublime,
that we cannot help regarding them with admiration, and exclaiming, " O my God, how is
it that such a soul still cleaves to earth, which
does such great things for Thee?" I answer,
some point of honour holds her down; and,
what is still worse, she is unable to perceive it;
and that because the devil makes her believe
that she is obliged to take care of her honour.
But let such souls listen to me; for the love of
â€¢our Lord, I beg of them to believe me, a
poor little miserable ant, whom our Lord would
have to speak in His name; let them be assured that unless they free themselves from
this caterpillar, though it may not destroy the
tree entirely, because some other virtues perhaps remain (though worm-eaten), yet it will
never become a beautiful tree, nor will it ever
flourish itself â€” no, nor suffer any others to
flourish that grow near it â€” because it will not
bear the fruit of good example. I say again and
again that any attachment, however slight, to the
point of honour is like a false note in the playing of an organ, which spoils the whole harmony. This is an evil which does harm to the
soul in every way, but in the life of prayer it
is a very pestilence.

For in that life of prayer we endeavour to
unite ourselves to God by following the counsels of Jesus Christ, Who was loaded with
injuries and false accusations, and yet, at the
same time, we wish to be very careful of our
honour and reputation. But we shall never
arrive at our journey's end but by the same
road along which our Lord travelled. Our
Divine Saviour will not dwell in our soul
unless we endeavour to correspond with His
grace, by giving up in many things even that
which is our right. But some, perhaps, will
say, " I have no opportunity in matters of this
kind to give up any thing for His sake." I
believe that our Lord will not suffer any one
who has such a desire to lose so great a good,
but that His Majesty will so order things that
he will have more opportunities than he as
yet desires of gaining this virtue. Let us all
then, put our hands to the work; for I wish
to inform you that some of those miserable
nothings which I performed, mere straws, fit
for nothing but to be cast into the fire, were
all accepted by our Lord : may He be praised
for ever!

Amongst my other imperfections, I had very
little knowledge of the Breviary, or of any of
the offices of the choir; and this arose from my
being so careless and given to vanities: while,
at the same time, I saw novices who were able
to teach me. I did not ask them any questions, for fear they shoold discover my ignorance; but shortly afterwards, a good opportunity
was presented to me â€” and this favour is usually
granted by God. So when He had opened
my eyes a little, I asked â€” when I was in the
slightest doubt â€” the youngest in the house to
inform me; and, so far from thus lessening
myself in their esteem, I rather rose in their
opinion. Our Lord was- pleased to give me a
better memory from that time. I was also a
bad singer, and I was troubled at it, not from
fear of making any blunders in the presence
of God â€” for that would have been a virtue â€”
but because so many heard me; and thus I
was so disturbed, purely on account of my
reputation, that I really acquitted myself much
worse than I need have done. Afterwards,
I thought it better to tell the sisters plainly,
that I could not sing well, which was really
the case. At first I had some difficulty in doing
this, but afterwards it became a pleasure to
me; and thus it appears that when a soul
begins not to care about her faults being known,
she is able to do her duty much better. And
when I renounced this unhappy desire of
honour, which I fancied I could acquire in
singing, I began to sing much better than before; and thus, when we perform such poor
little acts as these, His Majesty is pleased to
give them worth and value, because they are
done for His sake, though in reality they are
nothings â€” and I am sure I am nothing.

He also enabled me to advance in humility,
by seeing all the sisters advance except myself,
for I was never good for any thing; when, however they left the choir, I would stay to fold
up their mantles, for it seemed to me as if they
were Angels, who were there singing the praises
of our Lord. This I continued to do till they
came to hear of it; and then I was not a little
ashamed, for my virtue was not so far advanced
as to be willing that they should know this
practice of mine : not because I was humble,
but only lest they might laugh at me, because
I was still so completely good for nothing.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter VIII

little attachments, great hindrances in the way of perfection.

If a rich person, having no children nor any
one to whom he can leave his estate, loses
some portion of his wealth, yet retains sufficient
for the support of himself and his household
and even something to spare, â€” should that person be as much disturbed and as uneasy as if
he had not bread to eat, will our Lord ask
him to forsake all things for His love? It
may be said that he is troubled at his loss,
because he would have left his money to the
poor. But I am confident that God loves better
that we should conform ourselves to what His
Majesty ordains, and endeavour to keep our
souls in quiet, than that we should exercise this
charity to the poor.

Another has abundance to live on, and something to spare. An opportunity presents itself
of acquiring additional wealth. If it be offered
to him as a gift, by all means let him take it;
but to seek after it, and when this is obtained
to strive for more and more, let the intention be
ever so good (and good it must be, for, as I said,
these persons are devout and really virtuous), yet
let them be assured that they will never enter
the mansions nearest to the King's. It is just
the same with such persons if they chance to
be despised, or their honour be in some way
touched, however slightly; there remains in
their minds a certain uneasiness, which they
cannot easily shake off 6r overcome.

You may think, sisters, that I wander from
the subject, and that what I say does not relate
to joy, because in this house we neither have,
nor desire, nor seek for wealth, nor does any
one do us injury. These comparisons, then,
you may say, have nothing at all to do with
us. Still, they may be of use on many occasions which may happen â€” which, to mention
here, is neither necessary nor convenient. By
these comparisons you will discover whether
you are wholly disengaged from all affection
to those things which you have forsaken; for
certain little occasions often present themselves
by which you may make a sufficient trial of
yourselves, and know whether you have gained
.the mastery over your passions. And, believe
me, perfection consists not in wearing or not
wearing a religious habit, but in endeavouring
to practise virtue, and in subjecting our own
will in all things to the will of God. It consists also in regulating our lives conformably
to whatever His Majesty shall appoint for us,
and in desiring not our own will, but His.
But as we have not as yet reached this point,
let us humble ourselves, as I said; for humility,
sisters, is the ointment of our souls, and if we
possess it, our Lord, the Divine Physician, will
come and heal us, though He may delay a
while.

The penances which the persons of whom I
have been speaking perform are as carefully
regulated as their lives, which they most anxiously preserve, in order, they say, thereby to
serve our Lord. In their mortifications they
use great discretion, that they may not injure
their health. There is no fear of their killing
themselves, for their good sense will take care
of that. Such a love is not indeed desirable
as deprives us of reason; but I wish we had
such reason as not to be content with serving
God in this manner, always standing still in
the same place, so that we never arrive at the
end of our journey. And yet we think that
we are always advancing, and that with great
labour and difficulty â€” for, believe me, this is
a very wearisome way â€” it will be well if we
do not lose ourselves altogether. My daughters, if we had to go from one country into
another which we might conveniently reach in
the course of a week, how would you like, on
account of the inns, the winds, the snows, the
rains, and bad roads, to be a year on the way?
would it not be better to finish the journey
at once? â€” for we shall assuredly meet with all
these inconveniences, and with the enmity of
the old serpent also. While we proceed with
so much caution, every thing delays us, because
we are afraid of every thing, and so we have
no courage to venture forward; as if we could
arrive at these mansions, and leave others to
endure the difficulties of the way! No, this
is impossible! For the love of God, therefore,
sisters, let us press forward, and leave our
reasons and fears in His hands; let us rise
above this natural weakness, and leave our
superiors, whom it concerns, to take care of
this miserable body, and let us think of nothing but of hastening on to see the face of
our Lord and our God.

We have indeed but few delicacies; yet too
much care for our health may delude us, and
our health, after all, will be no better for all
our care. This I know, and I know likewise
that perfection does not consist in bodily austerities, which are its least important part.
Our progress depends, as I have said, on our
advancing with great humility. We should,
therefore, always imagine that we ourselves
have travelled but a little way, and believe that
our sisters have hastened on far before us;
and we ought not only to desire, but to endeavour to be accounted the most base and wicked
of all creatures. If we do this, we shall prove
our state to be good; otherwise we shall continue all our lives where we are, laden with a
thousand afflictions and miseries; for not having left ourselves behind, our journey becomes
very difficult and painful, because we travel
under the heavy burden of this miserable clay.

That which, in my opinion, will exceedingly
profit those who, through the mercy of God,
desire to rise higher in His service, is to be
very careful to obey promptly; and it would
be very useful, even for persons in the world,
to choose, as many do, some one whom they
may obey, in order to avoid doing their own
will in any thing; for this it is which generally
deceives and injures us. And here they should
not seek a person of the same disposition and
ideas as themselves, who may flatter them instead of striving to detach them from the world,
but one who knows its deceits, because they
will thus be better enabled to discover those
deceits; and also because, when we see things
which at first appear impossible easily accomplished by others who have sanctified themselves
thereby, we feel exceedingly encouraged. When
we see their flight, we venture to fly, like young
birds, which, though they cannot soar high at
first, yet ascend little by little, in imitation of
their elders. This is a great assistance, as I
know by my own experience.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter IX

Persons farthest advanced in grace ought to live in continual fear of falling.

It is indeed a very great misery to live in this
world, where we must always be like those
who have their enemies at the gate, who can
neither eat nor sleep, but are obliged to have
their arms continually in their hands, â€” always
in anxiety and fear lest the enemy make a
breach on one side or the other, and so become
master of the castle. O my Lord, my God,
how wouldst Thou have us to love a life so
miserable? Could we refrain from wishing
and praying to be taken, but for the hope of
losing it for Thy sake, or spending it wholly
in Thy service, because we know that thus we
shall be accomplishing Thy good pleasure?
But for this, my God, should we not say, with
S. Thomas, " Let us die with him," since to
live without Thee, and in the fear of perhaps
losing Thee for ever, is nothing else than to die
many deaths? I tell you, therefore, my daughters, that the blessedness we must ask for is to
be at last in security with the Blessed; for, amidst
these fears, what pleasure can he have who
finds no pleasure except in pleasing God?
Consider that some of the Saints have had much
greater fears than these, and yet they have
fallen into grievous sins; nor are we sure that,
if we fall, God will stretch out His hand (I
mean. His especial assistance) to lift us up, and
that we shall have grace to do penance as they
did. I assure you, my daughters, that while I
am writing these words, I am seized with
such fear that' I neither know how I can write,
nor how I can live, when I reflect on this
subject, as I very often do. Pray, my daughters,
that His Majesty may ever live in me; for,
otherwise, what security can there be for such
a life as mine, which has been so wicked?

But His Majesty knows I can only depend on
His mercy; and, since by it alone I can become
other than I am, I have no other remedy but
to have recourse to it alone, and to trust in the
merits of His Son, and of the Blessed Virgin,
His Mother, whose habit you and I, though
most unworthy of it, wear. Thank Him that
you are the true daughters of this Lady; and,
therefore, having so good a Mother, you must
not be ashamed of my being so bad. Imitate
her, and imagine what the greatness of this
Lady must be, and what a great honour it is
to have her for our Patroness, so that my sins,
wretched creature as I am, have not been able
in the slightest degree to tarnish her holy
Order. But I wish to warn you against one
thing: be not too secure because the order is
so holy, or because you are the daughters of
such a Mother; for David was a great Saint,
yet you know what was the end of Solomon.
Neither should you make much account of the
enclosure and penance in which you live; nor
let your continual converse with God, or your
uninterrupted exercise of prayer, render you
secure; nor your separation from the world;
nor your abhorrence of worldly things. All
this is very good, but not sufficient, as I have
said, to free us from danger. Frequently, then,
remember and meditate on this verse: " Blessed
is the man who feareth the Lord."

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter X

Grievous nature of deliberate venial sins.

Who does not commit many venial sins inadvertently! But may God deliver us from a deliberate sin, however small it may be! for I do
not understand how we can have the boldness
to act in opposition to so great a Lord, even
though it were but in a very small matter, much
more when we know that there is nothing small
which offends so awful a Majesty, and especially when we remember that He stands looking
at us. Hence such sins seem to me to be premeditated, just as if we said: "Lord, though
this sin may displease Thee, yet I will commit
it. I now see that Thou beholdest it, and that
it displeases Thee. Of this I am well aware;
but I prefer to follow my own fancy and passion
rather than do Thy will." Now, in a case of
this nature, is the fault small? To me it
seems not small, but great; ay, and very great

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XI

Confidence in the goodness and power of God, and contempt which we ought to feel for the devil.

Oh, how good is God! oh, how good and how
powerful is the Lord! He gives not only
counsel, but remedies also. His words are
works. How is our faith hereby strengthened,
and our love increased! Thus I often call to
mind how our Lord, when a tempest had risen
at sea, commanded the winds and the waves, and
there came a great calm; and I said then. Who
is this Whom all the powers of my soul obey, and
Who, in an instant, gives such dazzling light to
chase away such thick darkness, and makes that
heart become soft which seemed before to be as
hard as a stone; and Who gives the water of
sweet tears where before there was so long and
great a drought? Who inspires these desires?
Who gives such courage? What have I been
thinking of, that I should fear? What is this? I
desire to serve this Lord, and I wish for nothing
but to please Him. I renounce all pleasure
and ease, and every other good, save only the
doing of His will; and of this good I am sure,
as I can safely affirm. Since, then, this Lord
is so powerful, as I see He is and know He
is, and since all the devils are His slaves (and
of this I can have no doubt,, since it is of
faith), what harm can they do me, who am a
servant of this Lord and King? Why may
I not have strength enough to fight with all
the powers of hell? These enemies only venture
to attack those who give themselves up to
them; or they make their attacks only when
God permits them for the greater good of His
servants, whom they tempt and torment. I
would it might please His Majesty to make us
fear Him Whom we ought to fear, and to
make us understand that we receive greater
harm from one venial sin than from all the
powers of hell put together, â€” this is certainly
true. But when, by our affection for honours,
riches, and pleasures, we give the devils power
over us, by loving and desiring that which we
ought rather to abhor, then, indeed, they will
do us much harm; for we enable them to fight
against us with our own arms, which we put
into their hands, and with which we ought
rather to defend ourselves. ' What a great evil
is this! But if we now resolve to detest all
these things for the love of God, and to embrace
His Cross, and to serve Him in good earnest,
the devil flies from these resolutions as we
should fly from the plague. He is the friend
of lies, and a lie itself. He will have nothing
to do with one who walks in truth. But when
once he sees our understanding obscured, he
skillfully labours to obscure it still more, â€” He
helps us to blind ourselves; and, considering
us to be children, he treats us as such, because
he sees that we place all our satisfaction in the
vain things of this world, which are only toys
fit for children. With such souls he wrestles
more or less as he sees a hope of success. May
our Lord grant that this may never be my
case; but may He rather, in His mercy, make
me take that to be ease and rest which is,
indeed, true ease and true rest; and that to be
honour which is true honour; and that to be
pleasure which is true pleasure; â€” and not to
seek false ease, false rest, false honour, and false
pleasure! and then I care not a straw for all
the devils in hell, for they will be afraid of
me. I do not understand those fears by which
we exclaim, " The devil! the devil I" when we
ought rather to say, " O my God! my God!"
and so make the devil tremble.

Do we not already know that the devil is
unable to move unless our Lord permits him?
What, then, is the cause of all our fears? I
confess that I fear those who are so frightened
at the devil more than I fear the devil himself.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XII

On forgiveness of injuries, after the example of our Divine Lord.

O MY Lord, art not Thou our pattern and
example? Assuredly Thou art. Now, wherein
did Thine honour consist, O Divine Master?
Didst Thou not lose it, by being humbled even
to death? No, Lord; but Thou didst gain
honour for us all. Oh, for the love of God,
sisters, consider how hopelessly we shall lose
our way if we follow this road of human honour, since it is wrong from the very outset; and
God grant that no soul may perish for observing
these miserable points of honour, without considering in what honour consists! We imagine
that we have done a great deal if we forgive
some little trifling affront or injury which deserves not to be so called; and, as if we had done
some extraordinary action, we come and beg
of God to forgive us, since we have forgiven
others. Make us understand, O my God, that
we know not ourselves, and that we come with
empty hands; and do Thou, in Thy free mercy,
pardon us.

But how highly must God value our love
one to another, since our good Jesus might
have proposed many other things to His Father,
and have said : "Forgive us, O Lord, because
we do great penances, or because we pray and
fast much, and have left all things for Thee;
and because we love Thee exceedingly; because
we would lose our lives for Thee." Many
other such things He might have mentioned;
and yet He only said, " as we forgive them."
Because, perhaps, He knew we were such
great lovers of this miserable honour, and because it is a duty so difficult to perform, He
spoke of it alone, and offered it to His Father
on our behalf.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XIII

Vain excuses of lukewarm religious.

I sometimes hear religious say, in order to
excuse their own tepidity, that God bestowed
extraordinary graces on the holy founders of
their orders, because their virtues were to be,
as it were, the foundation of these spiritual
edifices, â€” and such is really the truth; but
should not these persons remember that they
too, by their virtuous example, are bound to
serve as a foundation for those who shall come
after them? If we who are still living do not
fall into relaxation, and if those who succeed
us also maintain the exact observance of the
rule, the spiritual edifice will continue to subsist. But what advantage shall I reap from
what was established with so much labour and
courage by the Saints who preceded me, if,
through my fault and want of virtue, I allow
it to fall into ruin? Is it not evident that
those who enter religion, instead of allowing
their thoughts to travel so far back as to the
founders of their order, should rather fix them
on their superiors and the other religious who
are before their eyes? In truth, it is an easy
way to excuse our imperfections, to say that
they arise from our not having lived in those
early times. But, O my Saviour, how vain
and unreasonable are all such excuses! Is it
not evident that they do but serve to deceive
us? I am ashamed, my God, to be so useless and so unfit for Thy service; but I see
clearly that if Thou hast not favoured me with
the same graces which Thou didst bestow on
those who were before me, I can but attribute
it to my own sins and imperfections. I cannot
reflect without sorrow on the difference between
my life and theirs, nor can I speak of it without tears. I acknowledge that, so far from
profiting by their labours, I have rendered
them unfruitful by the bad use which I have
made of them; yet I can but blame myself, â€”
not Thee, of Whom no one can complain. A
religious who perceives that any relaxation,
however slight, is creeping into her order,
should serve, by her virtue, to sustain the holy
edifice; nor need she doubt of Thy assistance to
enable her to do so.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XIV

Prayer against the desire of human approbation.

O MY Lord, when I consider in how many
ways Thou didst suffer, and yet without in any
way deserving it, I know not what to say of
myself, nor where my senses were when I did
not desire sufferings, nor what I do when I
excuse myself. Thou knowest, O my God, that
if I have any good in me, it has been bestowed
by Thy bounty alone. And by what art Thou
restrained from giving me much rather than
little? If it be because I do not deserve it, I
deserve as little the favours which Thou hast
already bestowed on me. Is it possible that I
should wish any one to think well of a creature
so wicked as I am, when so many evil things
have been spoken against Thee, the Supreme
Good? Do not suffer it, O my God! Nor let
me desire that Thou shouldst endure any thing
to remain in Thy servant which is in the
slightest degree displeasing to Thee. See, O
Lord, my eyes are dim, and the smallest thing
suffices to blind them. Give me light; and
make me really desire that every one may
abhor me, since I have so often forsaken Thee,
though Thou hast loved me so faithfully.
What folly is this, O my God! What do we
imagine that we shall obtain by pleasing creatures? Why are we concerned at being falsely
accused by all men, if we are innocent before
Thee?

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XV

God will never fail us if we fail not ourselves.

O Lord, all our evils come from not fixing our
eyes on Thee. If we considered only the way,
we should soon arrive at our journey's end; but
we fall a thousand times, and stumble and
stray from the Way, by not fixing our eyes (as
I said) on the True Way. It seems never to
have been trodden, so new does it appear to
us. We seem, I say, not to be Christians, nor
to have ever read the Passion in our life,
since we cannot endure to be despised even in a
trifling matter. We reply immediately, " We
are not Saints." When we do any thing imperfect, may God deliver us, sisters, from saying,
" We are not Angels," " We are not Saints."
Consider, that though we be not Angels or
Saints, it is a great happiness to think that if
we strive after it, we may, by God's assistance,
become Saints, and fear not that He will fail
you, if you fail not yourselves.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XVI

Necessity of interior mortification.

In the life of perfection all appears to be hard
and laborious, and justly so, because it is a
war against ourselves; but when we begin it,
God works so powerfully in the soul, and bestows on it so many favours, that all that we
can do in this life seems but little. Now, since
we nuns have done that which is most difficult,
in sacrificing our liberty for the love of God,
subjecting ourselves to another's power, and
enduring so much labour, fasting, silence, enclosure, and attendance in choir, so that, were we
ever so desirous of relaxation, we could seldom
enjoy it, â€” why, I ask, are we so slow in mortifying our interior, without which we cannot
perfectly perform the rest, while with it all the
rest becomes perfect and meritorious, and we
are enabled to go through all our exterior
duties with great ease and delight?

We shall acquire this interior mortification
if we accustom ourselves by degrees not to do
our own will or follow our own appetite, even
in very trifling things, until we have completely
made the body subject to the spirit. I say
again, that all, or almost all, consists in renouncing all care of ourselves and of our own
pleasure; for the least which he can offer,
who begins to serve God in earnest, is his life,
after he has already given up his will to Him.
And why are you afraid to give Him this?
There is no true religious who is really given
to prayer, and wishes to enjoy Divine consolations, but would desire to die for her Lord, and
to suffer all manner of crosses for His sake.
Do you not know, sisters, that the life of a good
religious, of one who wishes to be numbered
among the intimate friends of God, is a long
martyrdom? I call it long, because it may be
called so in comparison with that of those who
are beheaded in an instant; but our whole life
is short, and some lives are extremely short.
And is it not uncertain whether our fife may
be so short as to end an hour hence, or in the
very moment when we have resolved to serve
God with all our strength? Such a thing is
not impossible; and, after all, we have no
reason to make any account of that which has
an end, and much less of life, in which we have
no certainty of a single day. And who that
remembers that every hour may be his last
will refuse to spend it in labour?

Believe me, then, the safest way is to keep
these thoughts ever before us. Let us, therefore, learn to cross our own will in every thing;
for though we cannot do this all at once, yet,
by diligence and prayer, you will by degrees
and unconsciously attain to it. It may, indeed,
seem very severe to say that we must not please
ourselves in any thing, because the joy which
accompanies this self-denial, and likewise the
benefits which arise from it even in this life,
are not also mentioned.

But as your rule enjoins you to practise all
this, the chief difficulty is surmounted : excite,
therefore, and help each other forward, and let
each endeavour to outstrip the rest.

Observe carefully the movements of your
interior, especially if they concern desires of superiority. May the merits of Christ's Passion
deliver us from saying or dwelling on such
thoughts as these, " I am the senior in the order," or "I have laboured more than others,"
or " Another is better treated than I am"!
If these thoughts arise, they must be stifled
immediately; for if you dwell upon them, or
talk about them, they will become a very
plague. Cry, therefore, to God, and let all
your prayers have this end, that you may obtain a remedy for so great a danger. You may
ask why I insist so much on this; you may
think what I say too severe, since God bestows
His favours even on such as are not thus disengaged. I believe that He does this because,
in His infinite wisdom. He sees it expedient to
lead them on thereby to forsake all things for
His sake. I do not account a person's entering
religion the forsaking of all things, because
there may be attachments even in religion;
while, on the other hand, in every state of life
a perfect soul may be humbled and detached
though with greater difficulty, because order
and retirement are great helps to detachment.
But, believe me, that if there be any hankering
after honours or riches (and this may happen
in monasteries as well as in the world), those
who cherish such desires, though they may
have spent many years in prayer, or, to speak
more correctly, in speculation (for perfect
prayer takes away all these defects), will. never
make any progress, nor be able to derive any
fruit from their prayer.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XVII

Difference between true and false humility.

Be on your guard, daughters, against a certain
false humility, which, to our great disquiet, is
suggested by the devil, respecting the greatness
of our sins; for hereby he is accustomed
to disturb souls in many ways in order to
dissuade them from Holy Communion, and
from praying for particular intentions â€” for the
devil persuades them they are unworthy; and
when they approach to receive the most Blessed
Sacrament, the time in which they might
receive great favours from God is mostly
spent in discussing whether or not they have
been well prepared. The enemy prevails so
far as to make a soul believe that, because she
is such a great sinner, God has forsaken her, so
that she almost doubts His mercy. Whatever
she says, seems to her dangerous, and all her
actions fruitless, however good they may in
reality be. She is quite discouraged, because
she feels that she has no power to do any good;
for that which appears good to her in others,
seems bad in herself.

Pay very great attention, daughters, to this
point on which I am now about to speak; for
at one time it may be humility and virtue to
consider ourselves very bad, and at another
time it may be a very great temptation; and
because I have experienced this, I know it to be
true. However great our humility may be, it
does not disturb or disorder the soul, but
brings peace, delight, and calmness. Should
any one at the sight of her own wickedness
clearly perceive that she deserves to be in hell,
and so scarcely dare to ask for mercy, this grief
â€” if it springs from true humility â€” has a certain sweetness and satisfaction attendant upon
it, so that she would not wish to be without it.
It does not disturb or straiten the soul, but
rather enlarges it, and disposes it to serve
God more fervently. But the other kind of
grief troubles and disorders every thing, throws
the soul into utter confusion, and is very painful.
I believe the devil thus tries to make us think
that we have humility, and at the same time
â€” if he canâ€” to make us distrust God. When
you find yourselves in this state, avoid, as
much as you can, thinking on your own misery,
and meditate on the mercy of God, â€” how much
He loves you, and how much He has suffered
for you.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XVIII

Various kinds of false peace.

Mat God preserve us from those different
kinds of peace which worldly" persons enjoy,
and which cause them to remain tranquil, even
though they may have committed the greatest
sins. Does not such a peace deserve rather to
be called a warfare? This false peace is a sign
of the union of such souls with the devil; he
will not make war upon them during this life,
lest he should drive them to have recourse
to God to deliver them from his power. Let
them enjoy their false happiness as long as it
pleases them; I hope through the mercy of God
that He may never find such amongst us.

Since whilst we are in this life we have to
maintain a continual warfare against so many
enemies, we cannot be too vigilant both over our
interior and our exterior; for though God may
give us great grace in prayer, yet as soon as we
have it, we shall meet with a thousand little
stumbling-blocks, causing us to omit certain,
things through negligence, not to perform others
with sufficient exactness, or we shall fall into
some interior troubles, and be assailed by temptations. So far from thinking or wishing to
be entirely exempt from these temptations and
troubles, I look upon them as great favours
from God, and very profitable to the soul, by
promoting its progress in virtue; but I cannot
help fearing for those who feel no sorrow for
their faults â€” if it be but a venial sin, it should
always give us pain.

If you love me, pay great attention,! pray you,
to this: Is it not true that a living person feels
the slightest prick of a pin or a thorn? In like
manner, if our souls are not dead, but animated
by an ardent love of God, shall not we be
very sensitive to the least thing which is not
in accordance with our profession and our
obligations?

Scrupulous persons should remark that I do
not mean those faults into which we sometimes
fall without thought, and even unconsciously,
but those which we ordinarily commit, â€” make
little account of, do not regret, and even do not
strive to correct, because we look upon them
as nothing, and thus sleep on in a false and
dangerous tranquillity.

Strive, my daughters, not to have always
the same faults to accuse yourselves of in confession; and since our weakness is so great
that we know not how to avoid committing
some, let us at least endearour that they be
not always the same, lest they strike deep roots
into our souls, which will be very difficult to
eradicate, and these roots again produce others,
like to a plant which, when watered every day,
grows so rapidly that, though at first it would
have been easy to pluck it up with the hand,
it becomes necessary afterwards to use a hoe or
a spade to uproot it.

Let us ask God to aid us at those moments
which, in the hour of death, and at His dreadful Judgment, we shall see to have been so
important, especially to those who have, like
us, the honour of having Him for our Spouse in
this life who will then be our Judge.

Amongst worldly people we may meet with
another kind of peace, less dangerous than that
of which I have spoken, â€” it is the peace of those
who are careful, to avoid the commission of
mortal sin, â€” which in itself is no small thing
considering the manner in which people live at
the present day; but I am persuaded that they
must fall into it from time to time, because
they make so little account of committing a
great number of venial sins, which are on the
very verge of mortal sin. These persons do
not fear to say â€” and I have often heard them
â€” "What! do venial sins seem so important
to you? Surely holy water will efface them,
and the Church, like a good mother, gives us
also other remedies for them." What, my
daughters, can be more deplorable than to
hear Christians dare to speak in this manner!
I conjure you, by your love for God, never to
commit any sin, venial though it be, under pretext of these remedies. We may always suspect the dispositions of those persons who desire
consolations which weaken virtue, tend to
tepidity, and give rise to doubts whether sins
committed in this state are venial or mortal.
May God in His good pleasure deliver us from
this kind of peace!

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XIX

On a constrained and narrow spirit of devotion.

I EXHORT you to fly all constraint and narrowness
in the service of God, because the soul which
gives way to it is not thereby disposed to any
kind of good, and often falls into scruples which
render her useless to herself and others. Even
if she does not become scrupulous, she will, however good herself, be unable to aid others to advance in piety, inasmuch as this constraint is so
opposed to our nature, that it intimidates and
frightens us. Thus, though these persons are
persuaded that your road is a better one than
theirs, yet the fear of falling into the state of
constraint in which they see you causes them
to lose all desire to enter upon it Endeavour,
then, as far as you can without offending God,
to behave in such a manner towards those with
whom you have to live, that they may be pleased
with your conversation, that they may desire to
imitate your conduct, and that virtue may
appear so sweet and amiable in your intercourse
with them that, instead of frightening them, it
may inspire them with reverence and love.

This advice is very important to religious;
the holier they are, so much the more watchful
should they be to exercise gentleness and sweetness towards their sisters. Therefore, my
daughters, when the conversation of your sisters is not such as you would wish it to be,
and even though it may occasion you much
annoyance, be careful never to show it, or to
keep away from them. By this means they
will love you, and you will be useful to them.
Let us, then, be very careful to please all those
with whom we have to converse, but especially
our sisters.

Strive thoroughly to understand this important truth, that God does not regard these
little things so much as you imagine, and that
therefore you should not cramp your mind,
which will hinder you from doing much good.
Have only, as I have said, a pure intention
and a determined will not to offend God, without allowing your soul to be weighed down by
scruples, since instead of thereby becoming
saints, you would fall into many imperfections,
into which the devil would insensibly draw
you, and which would hinder you from being
of as much use to yourselves or to others as
you would have been if you had followed a
different course.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XX

Sufferings of those who are divided between God and the world, and how much it concerns them not to abandon the practice of mental prayer.

I WISH I could obtain leave from my confessors
to declare how often I failed in my obligations to God when I was not supported by the
strong pillar of mental prayer! I passed nearly
twenty years on this tempestuous sea, continually falling and rising again â€” though I
rose very imperfectly, since I fell again so
quickly; and in this kind of life, so far below
perfection, I made almost no account of venial
sins. Mortal sins I feared, indeed, but not as I
ought to have feared them, since I did not
avoid the occasions of committing them. I can
declare that this is one of the most painful
lives which can be imagined, for I neither enjoyed the sweetness of serving God nor the
pleasures of the world. When I was entertaining myself with worldly amusements, the remembrance of what I owed to God gave me pain;
and when I was conversing with Him in prayer,
worldly affections disturbed me; and so painful
was the conflict, that I know not how I could
possibly have endured it for one month, much
more for so many years. Herein I clearly
see the great mercy of God towards me, that,
while still so much engrossed with the world,
He yet gave me courage to practise mental
prayer. I say courage, because I see not one
thing in the world which requires greater
boldness than to be carrying on treason against
a Kingâ€” to be sensible that He knows it well
â€” and yet never to depart from His presence.
For though it be true that we are always in the
presence of God, yet methinks they who converse
with Him in mental prayer are in a special manner in His presence, because then they see that
His eyes are on them; whereas others may
remain long in His- presence without remembering that He looks upon them.

Now, the reason why I have written this is,
first, as I have said before, that the mercy of God
and my ingratitude towards Him may be
clearly discerned; and, secondly, that it may
be understood how great a blessing God bestows on a soul to which He gives a good will
to practise mental prayer, even though it have
not attained great perfection in this exercise.
For she who shall persevere therein, whatever
sins she may commit, whatever temptations
may be presented to her, or whatever falls she
may sustain by the artifices of the devil, will
assuredly be brought safely by our Lord in
the end to the haven of salvation, as I trust
He has now brought me.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXI

Means to preserve recollection in prayer.

When we are in prayer, let us endeavour always
to be in company. And what better companion
can we have than the very Master Who taught
us the prayer we are about to say? Therefore,
my daughters, represent that same Lord to
yourselves as present with you, and observe
with what love and humility He stands teaching you. And, believe me, you cannot remain
long without such a Friend. If you accustom
yourselves thus to dwell near Him, and He
that you do it with all the affection of
your heart, and that you endeavour continually
to please Him, you will not be able, so to speak,
to drive Him from you. He will never be
wanting to you. He will help you in all your
troubles; you will find Him with you in all
places. Do you think it a small favour to have
such a Friend at your side? O sisters, those
amongst you who cannot discourse much with
the understanding, nor keep your thoughts
fixed, without being distracted, accustom yourselves to this practice : I know by my own
experience you may do it, for I have lived many
years under this cross of not being able to fix
the imagination during prayer, and I know it
is a great affliction. Yet I know also that our
Lord does not so forsake us, but that, if we
humbly approach Him and beg Him to remain
with us, He will bear us company. And if
we cannot obtain this favour in one year, let
us be content to wait many years, nor grudge
spending much time for so great a gain. I
say that we may in time accustom ourselves
when at our ordinary work to dwell by the
side of this true Master. I do not now require
you, however, to meditate continually on Him,
or to labour to form a picture of Him, or to
exercise your understandings in sublime and
curious speculations. I require of you only
to look at Him. And what hinders you
from turning the eyes of your soul for one instant, if you can do no more, upon this adorable
Spouse? You can bear to look upon most
frightful objects; can you not look upon that
-which is more beautiful than imagination can
conceive? If He do not appear beautiful in
your eyes, I give you leave not to look at
Him; and yet, daughters, your Spouse never
takes His eyes off you. He has endured a
thousand abominations committed against Him,
and yet they were not enough to make Him
forbear looking upon you. Is it much, then,
for you to take off your eyes from these exterior
objects, and sometimes to cast a look at Him?
Behold, as the Spouse saith. He stands waiting
for nothing else but that we may look upon Him.
As you wish for Him, you will find Him. He
loves so much to be looked upon by us, that
no diligence will be wanting on His part to
attract us. People say, that if a wife wish to
live happily with her husband, she must do as
he does : if he be sad, she must appear sad
too; if he be merry, she must appear so likewise, though she may not be so in reality.
See, sisters, from what a subjection you are
freed! Thus, in truth, without any fiction,
does our Lord act with us; for He makes Himself the subject, and would have you to be the
mistress, and He bears Himself according to
your wish. If you be cheerful, contemplate
Him as risen, for it will rejoice your soul merely
to imagine how He went forth from the sepulchre, with what brightness, with what beauty,
with what majesty! how victorious, how joyful,
like one who has gloriously returned from
battle, where He has gained a mighty kingdom,
which He wishes to bestow wholly upon you!
Now, is it much that you should once turn
your eyes to look upon Him Who lavishes so
much upon you? If you be sad or afflicted, consider Him on the way to Gethsemane; for what
sorrow is so great as that which He then endured in His soul, since He, though patience
itself, speaks of this sorrow, and complains of
it? Consider Him, again, bound to the pillar,
full of pains, all His flesh torn to pieces through
His great love for you, persecuted by some,
spit upon by others, denied and forsaken by His
friends, and without any one to plead for Him!
You may consider Him, likewise, laden with
His cross, His enemies giving Him not time
to take breath. He will look upon you with
those eyes, so beautiful and so compassionate,
filled with tears, and He will forget His own
sorrow to comfort you, provided only that you
go and solace yourselves with Him, and turn
your eyes to look upon Him.

O Lord of the world, my true Spouse! art
Thou driven, my Lord and my God, to admit
such wretched company as mine? You should
say, sisters, if your hearts have been so softened from seeing your Saviour in the state I
have described, that you not only desire to
look on Him, but are delighted to speak with
Him, not in a set form of prayer, but with
supplications issuing from the grief of your
hearts. Is it possible, you will say, O my
God, that Thou canst take comfort in such
company as mine? for it seems by Thy looks
that Thou art pleased to have me with Thee.
How, O Lord, is it possible that the Angels
should leave Thee alone? that even Thy Father
should not comfort Thee? If it be true, O
Lord, that Thou art pleased to suffer all this
for me, what is it that I suffer now? What
do I complain of? I am now so much ashamed
of my complaints, since I have seen Thee in
such a state, that I wish to suffer, O Lord, all
the afflictions which may happen to me, and
to find in them a source of great consolation,
that so I may imitate Thee in something. Let
us go together, O Lord! Whithersoever Thou
goest, I will go; by whatsoever path Thou
travellest, I will travel also. Bear your part,
daughters, in this cross; be not troubled lest
the Jews trample upon you; if only you bear
your Lord company, heed not what they say
of you, be deaf to their accusations, and, though
you stumble and fall with your Spouse, shrink
not from the cross, nor forsake it. Consider
attentively the weariness under which He struggles on, and by how many degrees His Passion
exceeds your sufferings, however great you may
fancy them to be, and however sensibly you
may feel them; and thus you will be comforted :
for you will see that they are but children's
play when compared with His.

You will perhaps say, sisters. How can this
be done now? Had you seen Him with your
corporal eyes at the time when His Majesty
lived on earth, then you would very willingly
have done it, and have kept your eyes ever
upon Him. Believe it not; for she who will
not now use a little violence to herself in order
to keep herself in recollection, that she may
behold her Lord within herself, â€” which she
may do without danger, and by merely using
very little diligence, â€” would far less have placed
herself at the foot of the cross with Magdalea,
in the face of death. And what must our
glorious Lady and this blessed -Saint have suffered? What threats, what evil words, what
shocks, what insults! With what courtiers
had they to deal! â€” the very ministers of hell
and servants of the devil! Doubtless, what
they suffered must indeed have been terrible;
but the great sorrows of Another made them
insensible to their own. Imagine not, therefore, sisters, that you would be fit to bear such
great afflictions, if you are now unequal to
such small trials. It is by exercising yourselves in these that you may learn to endure
greater afflictions.

In order to help you herein, you may carry
about with you an image or representation of
our Lord, not merely to wear it in your bosom
and never to look at it, but to speak often to
Him; for He will teach you what to say to
Him. Since you find words to speak to others,
why should you want them to speak to God?
Do not believe this. I, at least, will not believe it, if you will only accustom yourself to
converse with Him; if you do not, you will
â€¢be sure to want them; for when we are unused
to converse with a person, a kind of strangeness
grows up between us and him, and an ignorance
bow we should address him; so that we soon
find a difficulty in speaking even with kindred
and friends when we are unaccustomed to converse together.

It is likewise an excellent thing to take a
good book in your own language, to help you
to collect your thoughts, that so you may learn
to pray, and. by little and little accustom the
soul thereto by caresses and holy artifices, that
she may not be frightened or discouraged.
Remember that we have strayed long ago from
our Spouse; and so depraved are we, that great
skill is required to induce us to return to His
house. We have so accustomed our souls and
our thoughts to follow their own pleasure, or,
to speak more properly, their own pain, that
the wretched soul knows not its own condition.
I again assure you, that if you carefully accustom yourselves to follow this counsel, you will
thereby gain such great profit as I cannot
express, even if I would. Keep yourselves
near, then, to this good Master, and firmly resolve to learn what He shall teach you; and
His Majesty will so order things, that you will
not fail to become excellent scholars; nor will
He forsake you, if you do not forsake Him.
Consider the words uttered by His Divine
mouth; for by the very first you will immediately
understand the love He bears you, â€” and it is
no small happiness and consolation for a scholar
to know that his master loves him.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXII

Answer to objections against mental prayer.

Some say, " This way of prayer is not fit for
women, for they may fall into delusions; it
is better they should spin. They have no
need of such subtleties; a Pater and Ave are
sufficient for them." This I also say, sisters;
and why should the not be sufficient? We
cannot do wrong in forming our prayer upon
the prayer uttered by the lips of our Lord
Himself. They say well, then; for were not our
weakness so very great, and our devotion so cold,
we should have no need of any other prayers,
of any other books to instruct us how to pray.

I speak to those who cannot fix their thoughts
upon other mysteries, which seem to them too
artificial; and for them I now lay down certain
principles, means, and counsels relating to
prayer, though I do not intend to dwell on
high and abstruse subjects. I have always
been more affected and moved to greater recollection by the words of the Gospels than by
any other books, however well written.

I come, then, to this Master of Wisdom, that
He may perhaps inspire me with some considerations that may profit you.

Let no one deceive you by showing you another way to heaven than that of prayer, whether mental or vocal. All persons should use
either the one or the other; and for yourselves,
I say that you stand in need of both; for this
is the very office and employment of religious.
Whoever shall tell you there is danger in this,
consider him to be a dangerous person, and
avoid him; but do not forget this advice, for
perhaps you may stand in need of it. It will,
indeed, be dangerous for you to want humility
and the other virtues; but God forbid that the
way of prayer should be a way of danger!
The devil seems to have invented the art of
exciting these fears, thereby to place a stumbling-block in the way of those who are given
to prayer.

See the wonderful blindness of men, who do
not consider the many thousands in the world
who have fallen into heresy and other great
evils by not practising prayer, or knowing what
it is; and if among all those who practise it
the devil, the better to accomplish his designs,
has. made a very few to fall, a great fear is
excited in men's minds of the practice of this
virtue. Let those beware what they do who
thus fly from good in order to escape from
evil. Such an invention, as it seems to me,
can come only from the devil.

O my Lord, arise and defend Thyself! See
how men misinterpret Thy words! Suffer not
such weaknesses as these to remain in Thy
servants!

Banish these fears, then, sisters; pay no attention to such opinions j for these are not times
when we should believe all persons, but only
those whom we see to walk conformably to the
life of Christ. Endeavour to keep a pure conscience, to have a contempt for all the things
of this world, and firmly to believe whatever
our holy Mother the Church teaches, and you
may then be assured that you have taken a
safe course. Cast away these fears where there
is nothing to fear. Show those who would
terrify you, in all humility, the way in which
you are walking. Tell them that your rule
commands you to pray without ceasing, as indeed it does, and that you must observe this
rule. If they say that it means only vocal
prayer, ask them whether the understanding
and the heart are to be attentive to what is
said in vocal prayer. If they answer " Yes," â€”
and they can make no other reply, â€” then you
see they acknowledge thereby that, to make
vocal prayer well, you are compelled to use
mental prayer also â€” ay, and contemplation too,
if God should be pleased to raise you to it.
May He be blessed for ever! Amen.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXIII

True vocal prayer always involves mental prayer.

The difference between mental and vocal
prayer does not consist in the mouth being
open or shut, for if, while uttering a prayer
vocally, I attentively consider and perceive that
I am speaking with God, being more intent on
this thought than on the words which I pronounce, then I am using both mental prayer
and vocal prayer together. But if they tell you
that you may be speaking with God when you
recite the Pater Noster, and yet be thinking of
the world, I have nothing to say to such prayer
as this, for if you would conduct yourselves as
you ought to do in speaking to so great a Lord,
it is fitting you should consider to Whom you
speak, and who you are, that you may speak
to Him with due respect. For how can you
address a king and style him " your majesty,"
or observe the ceremonies which are used in
speaking to the great, unless you are acquainted
with the dignity of him to whom you speak,
and understand what is your own place? He
must be honoured according to his rank, and
with the honour which custom requires; and
with this you should be well acquainted, unless you would be sent away as unmannered
clowns, and so gain nothing.

Now, what is this? O my Lord! what is
this? O my Sovereign! how can it be endured? Thou, my Lord, art an eternal King,
for Thy royalty is no borrowed dignity. I
feel a special delight as often as I hear it said
in the Creed " that Thy kingdom hath no
end." I praise Thee, O Lord, for this; and I
bless Thee for ever. Never suffer any one, O
Lord, who speaks to Thee, to do so only with
his lips. What is this. Christians? Do you
say you need not mental prayer? Do you
understand what you say? I certainly think
you do not, and, therefore, you would have us
all to be mistaken with you; and neither do
you know what mental prayer is, nor how
vocal prayer is to be used, nor what contemplation is; for did you understand.it, you would
not condemn on the one hand what you praise
on the other.

O my Emperor, Supreme Power, Essential
Goodness, Wisdom without beginning, without end, Perfection boundless, infinite, and
incomprehensible, fathomless Ocean of wonders, Beauty comprising all beauties, Divine
Strength, very God! Would that I had all
the eloquence of men, and wisdom also, to
understand (as far as can be understood in this
world, which in reality is nothing), how to
make known but some of those many things
which might enable us to understand, in some
small degree, how great is this our Lord and
Sovereign Good.

Consider, then, and understand with Whom
you are going to speak, and with Whom you
are speaking. In a thousand such lives as ours
we should never learn folly to comprehend how
this Lord deserves to be treated, before Whom
the Angels tremble. Who commands all things,
with Whom to will is to do. Is it not fitting,
then, my daughters, that we should endeavour
to delight ourselves in these excellences which
adorn our Spouse, and that we should understand to Whom we are espoused; and also what
manner of life it befits us to lead, on whom
He has vouchsafed to bestow so great a
dignity?

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXIV

Prayer of recollection â€” The contemplation of God as within us.

Consider what your Master says : " Who art
in heaven." Do you think it is of little importance for you to know what heaven is, and
where your Most Holy Father is to be sought?
I tell you that it is very important for those
who are subject to distractions, not only to
believe this, but to endeavour to realise it by
their own experience, because it is one of those
things which lay the strongest hold on the
understanding, and infuse the deepest recollection into the soul. You already know that
God is in all places; now, it is clear that where
the king is, there is the court, â€” and, therefore,
where God is, there is heaven: you may also
believe without doubting, that where His
Majesty is, there is all His glory.

Consider what S. Augustine says: that "he
sought God in many places, and came at last
to find Him in himself." Do you think it is
of little importance for a distracted soul to
understand this truth, and to know that she
need not go to heaven to speak with her
eternal Father, or cry aloud to be heard by
Him? â€” for however low we may speak. He is
so near that He will not fail to hear us; neither
do we need wings to fly and seek Him, but we
can compose ourselves in solitude, and behold
Him within us. Never, then, let us separate
from so good a Guest, but with great humility
speak to Him as a Father, entreat Him as a
Father, relate our troubles to Him, and beg a
remedy for them, though we know that we are
not worthy to be His daughters.

Be on your guard, daughters, against a certain false modesty, to which some persons are
addicted, and think it is humility; yet it is not
humility, if the King is pleased to show you a
favour, to refuse to accept it; but it is humility
to accept it, and acknowledge how much it
exceeds your merits, and so to rejoice in it.

Pay no attention to such humility, daughters,
but treat with Him as with a Father, as with
a Brother, as with a Lord, as with a Spouse,
sometimes in one way, sometimes in another;
for He will teach you what you should do to
please Him. Be not too easily discouraged,
but challenge His word, since He is your
Spouse, to treat you as such. Consider that
you are much concerned in understanding this
truth, viz. that God dwells within you, and
that there we should dwell with Him.

Being thus at home with Him, you may
meditate on the Passion and oÂ£fer Him to the
Father, without wearying the understanding
by going to seek Him on Mount Calvary, or in
the Garden, or at the Pillar. Those that can
thus shut themselves up in this little heaven
of the soul, where He abides Who created
heaven and earth; and who can also accustom
themselves not to stray whithersoever their exterior senses lead them, let them believe that
they walk in an excellent way, and that they
shall not fail to drink water from the fountain,
and thus to advance far in a little time. They
are like one who makes a voyage by sea, who
with a little favourable weather arrives within
a few days at his journey's end, whereas those
who go by land are much longer on the way.

Let us remember, then, that within us there
is a palace of great magnificence; the whole
building is of gold and precious stones, â€” in a
word, it is in every way a fit dwelling for so
great a Lord. Forget not, also, that the glory
of this edifice in some degree depends upon
you, for truly there is no building so beautiful
as a pure soul filled with virtues; and the
greater these virtues, the brighter do those
stones sparkle which adorn this, palace of the
great King, Who has been pleased to become
your Guest, and Who sits there on a throne of
inestimable value, even on your heart. For
if we did but remember that we have within
us such a Guest, I think it is impossible that
we should be so fond of the things of this world,
because we should see how base they are in
comparison with those treasures which we possess within us.

Some persons will, perhaps, laugh at me,
and say, "All this is very evident;" and they
may be right in saying so; but for some time
it was obscure to me. I knew well I had a
soul, but I understood not the dignity of that
soul, nor thought Who lodged within it, because
my eyes were blinded by the. vanities of this
life, so that I could not see Him. Methinks,
had I then known, as I do now, that in this
little palace of my soul so great a King is
lodged, I would not have left Him so often
alone, but sometimes, at least, I should have
stayed with Him, and have been more careful
to prepare a fair lodging for Him.

Thus was He pleased to be confined in the
womb of His most sacred Mother. He, as our
Lord, brings us liberty with Him, and, because
of His great love to us, abases Himself to our
nature. When a soul begins to know Him,
He does not discover Himself fully at once, lest
she might be troubled to see her own littleness,
and the greatness of Him Who dwells within
her. By degrees He enlarges that soul,
according to the measure necessary for the
gift which He infuses into her. Therefore I
say that He brings liberty with Him, since He
has power to enlarge His palace. Our part is
to give it to Him as His own, with a full and
, perfect resolution to let Him use it as His
own, and place there, or take away, whatever
He pleases. This is His pleasure, and this is
His right: let us not refuse it to Him. He
will not force our will, He takes only what we
give Him. But He does not give Himself
entirely to us till we give ourselves entirely
to Him: this is certain; and because it is a
truth of such importance, I so often remind
you of it. Nor does He work His full pleasure
and purpose in the soul until, without any
impediment, it is wholly His: nor do I understand how He could deal otherwise with it for
He is a lover of order.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXV

Importance of the thanksgiving after Holy Communion.

The daily bread which we ask of God in the
Lord's Prayer is either bread for our bodies,
or the Divine Eucharist, which is the bread of
our souls. Hence, sisters, however anxious
others may be in asking for that earthly bread,
let us beseech the eternal Father to give us
grace to ask of Him our celestial bread. And
as the eyes of the body cannot have the delight
of beholding Him, because He is veiled, let us
ask Him to discover Himself to those of the
soul, and to make Himself known to be that
most pleasant and delicious Food which can
alone preserve our lives.

Know you not that this most holy Bread is
nourishment even to the body, and an excellent
remedy even against corporal maladies? I
know it to be so, for I am acquainted with one
subject to grievous diseases, who, being often
in great pain, was thereby freed from it, as if
by the touch of a hand; and afterwards continued in perfect health. This happened frequently with regard to diseases which were
well known to exist, and which in my opinion
could not be counterfeited. And because the
wonders which this most holy Bread effects in
those who worthily receive it are well known,
I do not relate many which I could mention,
and which I know to be true; with regard to
the person I speak of, our Lord had given her
so lively a faith, that when she heard some
persons say they wished that they had lived at
the time when Christ our Lord, our Sovereign
Good, conversed with men in this world, she
smiled to herself, thinking that since we enjoy
His presence in the most Holy Sacrament as
really as if He were still visibly on earth, we
need desire nothing more. I know that the
person of whom I speak, though she was very
far from perfection, was accustomed for many
years when she communicated to endeavour to
rekindle her faith, as much as if she had seen
with her corporal eyes our Lord coming into
her soul. And this she did (believing that our
Lord was now entering her poor cottage), in
order to disengage herself as much as possible
from all exterior things, and so to enter in with
Him. She endeavoured to collect her senses,
that they might all understand so great a good,
or rather that they might not hinder the soul
from understanding it. She imagined herself
to be at His feet, and, with blessed Magdalena
she wept as if she had seen Him with her
corporal eyes in the house of the Pharisee; and
though she might feel no devotion, yet faith
told her that it was good for her to be there,
and there she remained discoursing with Him.
For unless we wish to stupefy ourselves and
blind our understanding, we cannot doubt that
this is not a mere representation of the imagination â€” as when we contemplate our Lord
upon the Cross, or in some other stages of His
Passion. There we represent these things as
past; but this is a thing present, and an absolute truth. Therefore, we need not go far to
seek Him; but, knowing that till the natural
heat has consumed the accidents of bread, our
good Jesus stays with us, we have but to seize
so good an opportunity of uniting ourselves
with Him.

Now, if, when He lived in this world. He
healed the sick by the mere touch of His garments, how can we doubt that He will grant
us whatever we ask of Him, while He is
actually in our house? His Majesty is not
wont to be a bad paymaster; let us, then, only
give Him fitting entertainment. If you are
troubled at not seeing Him with your corporal
eyes, consider it is not expedient for us; for it
is one thing to see Him glorified, and quite
another to behold Him as He was when He lived
and conversed on earth. Such is our weak
nature, that we could not endure it; the world
itself would be moved, nor would any one be
able to stay in it, because by the vision of this
eternal truth, it would evidently appear that all
those things which we value here are a lie and
a cheat. And how should such a sinner as I
am, who have so highly offended Him, dare to
behold Him, or to be so near Him? He is
accessible under those accidents of bread; for
if the king be disguised, we are able to converse
with him without the wonted ceremonies and
reverences, and it even appears that he is
obliged to suffer this, because he has not made
himself known. But if our Lord were to
manifest Himself visibly, who would dare to
approach Him with such tepidity, such unworthiness, and with so many imperfections as
ours?

Let us stay, then, willingly with Him nor
lose so fair an opportunity of treating with
Him; for the time after Communion is the best
for conversing with Him. Consider that it is
fraught with the richest blessings to the soul,
and that our good Jesus then delights much
in our company. Take heed, then, daughters, that you leave Him not. If obedience
calls you to some other duty, endeavour that
your soul at least may be still with our Lord:
your Master will not fail to teach you at this
time, though you understand not how, but if
you immediately fix your thoughts on something else, and you heed Him not, nor regard
Him Who is within you, then complain of no
one but yourselves.

This, then, is the fitting time for our Master
to teach us, and for us to hear Him and to kiss
His feet, because He has been pleased thus to
instruct us; beseeching Him not to depart
from us.

After you have received our Lord, endeavour
then to shut the eyes of the body, to open those
of the soul, since you then possess His very
Person within you; for I tell you again, and
would repeat it continually, that if you adhere
to this practice as often as you communicate,
and endeavour to keep your conscience pure, so
that you may be admitted frequently to the enjoyment of this blessing, He will not come so
disguised but that, as I have said. He will
make Himself known in manifold ways, according to our desire to see Him; and our
desire should be that He would wholly reveal
Himself to us. But if we make no account of
Him, and, after we have received Him, go away
from Him to seek after base earthly things,
what can He do for us? Must He drag us by
force to seek Him, because He loves to be
known by us? No; for men did not treat Him
well when He openly exposed Himself to the
gaze of all, and told them plainly Who He was:
there were very few who believed Him. It is,
therefore, a great mercy which He shows to
us when He makes us understand that it is
He Who is present in the most Holy Sacrament; but He wills not to be seen openly, nor
to communicate His favours and bestow His
graces, except on His true friends, who. He
knows, earnestly desire Him. Therefore, let
not any but such as thus lovingly and reverently approach Him, venture to importune
our Lord to manifest Himself to them.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXVI

Marvellous effects of Holy Communion

I AM fully persuaded that if we approached the
Adorable Eucharist with great faith and great
love, one single Communion would enrich us
with celestial treasures; how much more, then,
should we receive from many Communions!
But need we be astonished that we reap so
little fruit from them, when it appears as though
we approached the holy table only as a ceremony, and from custom? Miserable world!
which thus closes our eyes, to prevent us from
seeing the eternal happiness which we might
acquire were we to receive this great Sacrament with a heart full of burning love for our
Saviour and of charity towards our neighbour.
O Lord of heaven and earth! is it possible
that we should be capable of receiving in a
mortal body such extraordinary proofs of Thy
love? And is it possible, at the same time,
that we should not desire to understand what
are the favours which the Canticle of canticles
shows that our omnipotent God wills to bestow
on our souls? O inconceivable favours! O
sweet and penetrating words, one of which
alone, out of the tenderness of our love to
Thee, my Saviour, should fill us with holy
rapture! Be Thou ever praised that it is no
fault of Thine that we enjoy not this great
happiness! In how many different ways hast
Thou vouchsafed, and dost Thou still vouchsafe
daily, to testify Thy love to us! I ask of Thee,
O my Saviour, but one thing in this world, â€”
that I may be honoured by one kiss from Thy
Divine lips, by which I may be so inflamed
that I shall not be able, even though I should
desire it, to grow cold in Thy love, or relax
from that close union which Thou hast vouchsafed to contract with me. Grant, O Sovereign Master of my life, that my will may be
so submissive to Thine, that nothing may ever
have power to separate those two wills; and
that I may be able to say to Thee, O my God,
Who art all my glory: " The milk which flows
from Thy Divine breasts is sweeter than wine."

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXVII

Benefit of devotion to S. Joseph.

I TOOK for my advocate and master the glorious
S. Joseph, and recommended myself much to
him; and up to this time I cannot remember
having asked him for any thing which he has
not obtained for me. I am quite amazed when
I consider the great favours which our Lord
has bestowed upon me through the intercession
of this blessed Saint, and the many dangers,
both of soul and body, from which He has
delivered me. It seems that to other Saints
our Lord has given power to succour us in one kind of necessity only; but this glorious Saint,
as I know by my own experience, assists us in
them all; hence our Lord, it appears, would
have us understand that, as He was obedient
to him when on earth (for He called him His
father, and obeyed him as His master), so
now in heaven He grants him whatever he
asks. This truth many others, also, have experienced who, at my desire, have recommended
themselves to him. They are now deeply
devoted to him; and I myself have daily fresh
experience of his power.

Would that I could persuade all men to
prove by their own experience the advantage
of devotion to this glorious Saint, and thus to
receive their share of the blessings which he
obtains from God! I have never known any
one who was truly devout to him, fail to
advance rapidly in virtue; for he assists in a
most special manner those who recommend
themselves specially to him. For many years
past I have been accustomed to ask favours of
him, and my petition has been always granted.
Moreover, if at any time it contained something inexpedient, he rectified it for my greater
good.

Persons who are given to prayer ought, it
seems to me, to have a special devotion to him;
'nor can I conceive how we can think of all the
time he dwelt with our Blessed Lady and the
Infant Jesus, without thanking him for his
care over them both.

Those who need a director to teach them to
pray, cannot do better than take this glorious
saint for their guide. They will be in no
danger of going astray.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXVIII,

Spiritual love of perfect souls for God, and for those -who assist them in the way to heaven â€” The kind of lore which they bear to creatures.

It now seems to me, that when God makes a
person clearly to understand what the world
is; that there is another world, and what the
difference is between the two, â€” that the one
is eternal, and the other a mere dream; what
the Creator is; what blessedness it is to love
the one, what misery to love the other; together
with many other things which our Lord truly
and clearly teaches him in prayer who desires
to be instructed by Him; â€” that such persons,
I say, learn to love in a manner far different
from theirs who have not been thus taught.

You may, sisters, think it useless to insist
on these points, and you may say, "We all
know these things." God grant it may be
so, and that you may know them in a way
-which may be profitable to you, and may
imprint them deeply on your hearts! If you
know them, you will see that I speak truth in
saying, that those to whom our Lord gives this
love, and raises to this state, are generous, royal
souls. They are not content with loving such
vile objects as creatures, with whatever beauty
or gifts they may be endowed. If the sight
thereof pleases them, they praise the Creator for
it; but they do not rest there. I mean, they
do not dwell upon them so as to conceive an
affection towards them; for this they would
consider to be loving a thing without substance,
and embracing a shadow; and it would make
them so ashamed of themselves, that they
would not have the face to tell God that they
love Him.

You will reply: " Such persons as these know
not either how to love, or to requite the love
which is shown them.'' I answer, at least,
they have little desire to be loved; and though,
sometimes, an impulse of nature may excite
a feeling of pleasure at the thought of being
loved, yet, when they come to themselves, they
see this is folly, unless the persons who love
them may do good to their souls by their
instructions or their prayers. Not that they
fail to be thankful to such persons, and to
requite their love by recommending them to
God; but they refer that love to our Lord,
knowing that it comes from Him. As they
find in themselves nothing deserving of love,
they believe that others love them because God
loves them, and they leave the payment of their
debt to His Majesty, beseeching Him to discharge it, â€” and thereby they are in a manner
acquitted of the obligation; and so, considering the matter attentively, I think what great
blindness it is to desire that others should love
us, except they be persons who, as I have said,
may assist us in acquiring solid blessings.

Now observe, that as in desiring any one's
love we always have some interest, or advantage,
or pleasure to ourselves in view, so these perfect
souls have already under their feet all the
goods which the world can bestow upon them, â€”
all its delights, all its pleasures j so that, even
if they would, they cannot find pleasure in any
thing but God, and in discoursing of God.
They cannot see what benefit they can derive
from being loved, and so they care not for it.

When they behold this truth vividly represented
to them, they laugh at themselves for the anxiety
they have sometimes felt to know whether
their affection has been returned or not; for
even in a pure affection it is very natural to
desire that it be requited. And yet, when
requited, the payment is made in straws, light
and unsubstantial, which the first wind blows
away. For, granting that we are greatly beloved,
what do we gain thereby? Hence, such great
souls no more care to be loved than not to be
loved, except by the persons I have mentioned
above, for the good of their souls, and because
they see that the weakness of our nature presently grows weary, if it be not sustained by
love.

You may think that such as these cannot
love any one but God. Yes; they love their
neighbour also, and with a truer, more profitable, and more ardent affection than that of
other men; theirs only, indeed, is true love.
Such souls are always much more willing to
give than to receive, and this even with regard
to God Himself This, I repeat, deserves the
name of love; for those other affections have
but usurped this name.

You may ask me, " If these persons do not
love the things they see, what do they love?"
I reply, that they do love what they see, and
are attached to what they hear; but the things
which they see and hear are permanent and
abiding. If such persons love, they look beyond
the body, and fix their eyes on the soul, observing whether there be any thing there worth
loving; and, if not, they see some beginning
or disposition thereto, and so they begin digging the mine in the hope that they may at
last find gold. If they love souls, the labour
of digging does not trouble them; there is
nothing which they would not willingly do for
the love of that soul, because they desire to
continue to love it for ever; and they know
well this is impossible, unless it be endowed with
virtue, and filled with the love of God. I say
impossible, â€” though the person should have bestowed many favours upon them, were he ready
even to die for them, and to do them every possible good office, and were he, moreover, possessed
of every natural endowment, â€” it were impossible for such natural reasons alone that these
holy souls should love him with a steadfast and
abiding love. They understand and know too
well by experience what are all things here
below, to be thus deceived. They see that
their judgments and that person's do not
agree, and that it is impossible they should
always continue to love one another, â€” for the
love which is given to one who does not
observe the law of God must end with life, â€” and
then they must part and go different ways.
And this love, which is only for this world, a
soul into which God has infused true wisdom,
values not above its worth; nay, even below it.
It can be desired only by those who take pleasure in the things of this world, viz. pleasures,
honours, and riches, and are glad of some companion to enjoy such recreations with them;
but whoever detests all this, regards such
friendships as little or nothing.

The love, therefore, of perfect souls moves
them to desire that the object of their affection
should love God, that so He may be loved by
them; for they know no other love will endure,
and that all other love will cost them very dear.
They fail not to do all they can to benefit that
soul, and would lose a thousand lives to promote
its sanctification in the smallest degree. O
precious love, which imitates the love of Jesus,
the Master and Teacher of love, and our Supreme
Good!

Wonderful to behold is the vehemence of this
love for souls; how fervent its penances and
prayers! how earnestly it recommends them to
all whose prayers avail them with God! What
a continual desire for their advancement; what
sorrow when it sees no improvement! And
if, after it has made some progress, a soul begins to fall back a little, he who thus loves it
seems to take no pleasure in life; he can neither
eat nor sleep, for the care which weighs upon
him, and the fear that the soul he loves so
much may perish, and so they may be eternally
separated (for to the death of the body in this
world such persons pay no regard), since he does
not wish to rely on that which in an instant
may escape his hands. This is, as I have said,
a love without any mixture of self-interest; all
it seeks and desires is to see the soul it loves
rich in heavenly goods. This, indeed, is love,
and not that which is called by that name here
below; and I speak not of vicious and inordinate
affections â€” from which, may God deliver us! â€”
but of those lawful affections which we bear
to one another, such as exist between friends
and kindred. Now, here we are in continual
terror lest the person we love should die : if
his head ache, our souls seem to ache; if we
see him in affliction, we lose patience; and so
with regard to every thing else.

But that other supernatural love is not like
this; for though, through natural infirmity,
we cannot but feel for the suffering of one we
love, yet our reason soon begins to consider
whether it be good for his soul, whether he
grows richer in virtue thereby, and how he
bears it; and then we beg God to grant him patience, that he ma j gain merit by these sufferings.
If we see that he is patient, we feel no trouble,
but rather joy and consolation, though we
would more willingly endure the trouble than
see him endure it, could the merit and gain
which are to be found in suffering be given
over entirely to him we love; but all this
without trouble or disquiet.

I say again, this love is like the love which
Jesus, our good Lover, bears us; for it embraces all kinds of afflictions, that so others,
without any pain, may reap the benefit thereof.
They whose hearts are filled with this holy
love, use no double dealing with their friends,
nor are they blind to their faults; but if they
think they can be of any service to them by
their reproofs, they fail not to speak plainly to
them, through their desire to see them rich in
virtues. What arts do they use for this purpose, though they care not for the whole world
besides! They cannot prevail on themselves
to act otherwise; they cannot flatter those they
love, nor pass over their faults.

There is, therefore, a continual warfare within them; for though in one sense they care not
for the whole world, nor heed whether others
serve God or not, because they attend only to
themselves, yet it cannot be thus with regard to
those to whom God has united them. Nothing
is concealed from them; they discover the least
mote in their souls. I tell you, such love is
a heavy cross. Happy the souls who are thus
loved! Happy the day wherein they became
the objects of such love!

O my Lord, grant me the exceeding favour
that I may have many such to love me! Truly,
O my Lord, I would more willingly be loved
by them than by all the kings and lords of the
world; and with great reason, â€” for they labour
by all possible ways to make us such, that we
may command the world itself, and have all
things therein subject to us. Love such persons, sisters, as much as you will, as long as
they continue such. They are few in number.
People may say to you, " There is no need
of this; it is enough for us to possess God."
But I reply, it is a good means of enjoying
God to be able to converse with His friends;
great benefit is always attained thereby : this I
know by experience; and, next to God, I owe
it to such persons as these that I am not in
hell; for I was always very desirous that they
should recommend me to God.

This is the kind of love which I wish to
possess; and though at first it be not very
perfect, our Lord will cause it to improve
more and more. Let us begin by what is
suitable to our strength; for though it be
mingled with a little natural tenderness, it will
do us no harm if only it be not exclusive. It
is sometimes necessary and good to feel and to
show some tenderness, to sympathise with the
afflictions and weaknesses of others, even though
they may be trifling. For it happens sometimes that a very little thing troubles one
person quite as much as a great cross would
afflict another : and persons of a timorous
nature are much distressed by small things.
Though you may have more courage, you
must not fail to sympathise with others, neither should you wonder at their trouble; for
perhaps the devil has employed greater power
and strength against them than he exerts to
make you feel great torments and afflictions;
and perhaps our Lord reserves the same for you
on some other occasion; and, moreover, those
trials which seem grievous to you, and which
are so in themselves, may seem light to others.
Thus we must not judge of others by ourselves, nor estimate ourselves according to our
state at a time when God has perhaps given us
more than ordinary strength without any labour on our part; but let us estimate ourselves
according to the time when we were weakest
and most cowardly. This advice is very useful
to teach us to compassionate the miseries of
others, however slight they may be.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXIX

We should not complain of slight indispositions, nor give way to excessive fear of death.

It seems to me, my sisters, a great imperfection to be continually complaining of little
evils: bear them silently, if you can; if they
are great, they will complain of themselves after
another manner, and it will be impossible long
to conceal them. Consider that, being, as you
are, a small community, and being, as you
ought to be, filled with charity, if one of you
indulges in this bad habit, she will give a
great deal of pain to all the rest. As to those
who are really ill, they ought to say that they
are so, and receive with simplicity all the
assistance which they need. If you were once
freed from self-love, you would feel so keenly
the least kindness or indulgence offered to you,
that there would be no fear of your seeking it
unnecessarily, or of your complaining without
a cause. But, if you should have a reasonable
cause of complaint, it will be as much your
duty to mention it as it would be contrary to
your duty to seek indulgence without necessity.
It would be very wrong, in such a case, in
your superiors to withhold from you the necessary care; and you have no reason to fear that
such a thing should happen in our houses of
charity and prayer, where the number of the
community is so small that it is easy to observe
the necessities of each member. Do not complain, then, of certain feminine weaknesses
and Indispositions, which are of no long duration and no great severity, and with the thought
of which the devil sometimes fills our imaginations; be content to speak of them to God
alone: otherwise you will run a risk of never
being delivered from them.

I insist especially on this point, because I
consider it to be very important, and believe
it to be one of the principal causes of relaxation in convents; for the more we indulge the
body, the weaker it becomes, and the more it
seeks indulgence. It is wonderful to see what
pretexts we find to seek relief from our ailments,
however slight they may be. The soul is thus
deluded and hindered in the way of virtue.
Remember, I pray you, how many among the
flick poor have no one to whom they can
complain, for to be poor and to be well cared
for are two things which seldom go together.
Remember, also, how many married women
there are (for I have known many, and those
of a good position in life), who dare not
complain even of great sufferings, for fear of
annoying their husbands. Alas, sinner that I
am! did we then come into religion to live
more at our ease than they? Since you are
exempt from so many trials which are endured
in the world, learn at least to suffer something
for the love of God without letting all the
world hear of it A woman unhappily married
opens not her lips to complain, but suffers
without asking the sympathy of any one, for
fear her husband should hear of her complaint;
and shall not we suffer between ourselves and
God some of those pains which our sins deserve,
especially when our complaints would be unavailing to relieve them?

I am not now speaking of great illnesses, â€”
such as a violent fever, â€” though I would have
even these to be borne with patience and
resignation; but of those slight indispositions
which we may bear without taking to our beds
and giving trouble to every body. Now, if
what I am writing were to be seen by any
one without, what would all the religious say
of me? But I would willingly bear any thing
that they might say, if I could thus be of
service to any one; for if there be but one in a
convent who thus complains without reason of
trifling maladies, it often happens that others
come not to be believed, however great may
be the sufferings of which they have to complain.

Let us set before us the holy hermits of past
ages, whom we consider as our fathers, and
whose life we profess to imitate. What labours
and sufferings did they endure from extremity
of cold, from the excessive heat of the sun, from
hunger, and many other annoyances, having
none to complain to but God alone! Do you
think, then, that they were made of iron, and
not of flesh and bones, as we are? Be assured,
my daughters, that when we begin to overcome ourselves, and bring our bodies into subjection, they will cease to torment us so much.
There are plenty of persons to take the necessary care of us; therefore, fear not to forget
yourselves, unless some evident necessity should
arise for your keeping yourselves in memory.

Unless we come to the determination to
trample under foot the fear of death and the
loss of health, we shall never be good for any
thing. Endeavour, then, to come to this point,
â€” to abandon yourself wholly to God, whatever
may happen to you; for what matters it if we
should die? Shall we not have courage at
least once to make a jest of this miserable
body, which has so often made a jest of us?
Believe me, my sisters, this resolution is of
greater consequence than we are wont to
imagine: for if we accustom ourselves to deal
firmly with this body of ours, we shall gradually
subdue it, and shall master it at last. Now,
a triumph over such an enemy is no slight
step towards the attainment of a perfect victory
in the conflict of this life. I beseech God,
Who alone has the power, to grant us this
grace. I believe that those alone who already
enjoy this victory are capable of understanding
the benefit which we derive from it, which is
so great, that I am persuaded, if any one could
but know it beforehand, he would account no
suffering too great to purchase the repose of
this victory over self.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXX

The danger of thinking that we have virtues which we do not really possess.

It is only by trial that we can discover whether
we have patience, humility, and poverty. The
greatest injury which the devil could do to
us unawares, would be to persuade us that we
possess virtues which we have not. This
belief diminishes humility, and causes us to
neglect the acquisition of those virtues which
we imagine we already have. Thus thinking
ourselves safe, we fall, without knowing it,
into a snare out of which we cannot withdraw
ourselves. I assure you that this temptation
is very dangerous, and, having had great experience of it, I can confidently speak of it,
although not so well as I should desire to do.
Now, where, my sisters, is the remedy for this
evil? If we think our Lord has bestowed
upon us some virtue, we should consider it as
a gift which we have received from Him, and
which He could take from us at any moment,
as often happens by the permission of Divine
Providence. Have you not felt this, my daughters? If you say no, I cannot say the same;
for sometimes I think I am quite detached,
and when the moment of trial comes, I find
that I am so in fact; at other times I find
myself to be so attached to what the day before
would have made me laugh, that I do not
know myself. Sometimes I believe I have so
much courage that if occasions for serving
occurred, nothing would hinder me; and occasionally I find that this is really true; but,
at another time, I find myself so weak that, if
I met with the slightest contradiction, I should
not have courage to kill a mouse for the love
of Him. Sometimes I imagine that whatever
might be said against me, and whatever murmurs might arise, I could suffer all without
pain; and on many occasions I have found
that I was not deceived, as these murmurs
even gave me joy; but at another time the
least word has afflicted me so much, that I
wished to be out of the world. I am not alone
in these feelings, for I have noticed the same
in many persons better than myself.

If this be the case, my sisters, who can say
that her soul is adorned with virtues, since,
when she most needs them, she finds that she has
none? Let us, then, beware of such thoughts,
and let us rather own that we are poor, and
let us not appropriate to ourselves virtues which
do not belong to us. The treasure of our souls
is in the hands of God, and not in ours; we do
not know how long it may please Him to leave
us in the prison of our misery and poverty
without enriching us. It is very true that,
if we serve Him humbly, he will help us
in our wants; but, if we acquire not this virtue
step by step. He will leave us, and, in so
doing, He will bestow on us a great mercy,
since by this punishment He will teach us that
we cannot too much esteem this virtue of
humility, and that we have absolutely nothing
but what proceeds from His grace.

Here is another piece of advice. The devil
sometimes persuades us that we have some
virtue â€” for instance, patience; because we
make a resolution to practise it, and because
we often make acts of desire to suffer much for
God, and because we think this desire is really
sincere, we remain satisfied. But I beg of you
to beware of esteeming this kind of virtue, or
to think you know these virtues except by
name, and do not persuade yourselves that God
has given them to you until you find, by
experience, that you have them; for it may
happen that the least word said to you will
destroy all this pretended patience. When you
have suffered much, give thanks to God that
He begins to exercise you in this virtue, and
continue to suffer with great courage.

Here is another of the devil's artifices: he
persuades you that you are poor; and in one
sense he is right, because, as religious, you
have made a vow of poverty, or because in
your heart you desire really to practise it.
Thus the religious thinks herself poor because
she has made a vow of poverty, and the pious
secular because she desires to die poor; they
both say : " I desire nothing, and, if I possess
any thing, it is because I cannot do without it;
for I must live to serve God, Who wishes us
to take care of our health," and a thousand
other things with which that angel of darkness,
transformed into an Angel of light, inspires us,
and which, in appearance, are good. Thus he
persuades persons that they are truly poor,
and that they really have the virtue of poverty,
and that by this means all is accomplished; but
this can only be tested by trial. The conduct
of a secular will prove if he be really poor: if
he is too anxious about temporal goods, he will
soon show it by desiring more income than is
necessary, or by keeping more servants than
he needs, or, on occasion, of a lawsuit for some
temporal matter; or, if some poor farmer fails
to pay his rent, he will show no less uneasiness
than if he were in danger of wanting bread.
As men never lack excuses, I doubt not that
this secular would reply, that in all these
matters he only wishes to avoid wasting his
substance by want of care; but I do not wish
him to waste it, â€” I only say that he ought to
avoid solicitude in the care which he takes of
it. If temporal matters succeed with him,
well; if not, let him take it patiently, â€” for he
who is truly poor makes so little account of all
these things, that, though he thinks himself
bound to take a reasonable care of them, he
feels no uneasiness on the subject, because he
believes that he shall never want necessaries;
and even were he to want them, he would not
be greatly troubled. He regards all these
temporal things as mere accessories, and not as
his principal object: his thoughts soar above
them, and are occupied on these lower things
only from necessity.

As to religious who are poor, or who at
least ought to be poor, since they have made
the vow of poverty, it is true that they possess
nothing of their own, but it is often because
they have nothing in their power. If a gift be
offered them, it will seldom happen that they
judge it to be superfluous. They are very
glad to have something in reserve. If they
can get habits of a fine material, they do not
think of asking for something coarser. It is
the same with regard to humility. We think
we do not care for honour or reputation; but,
if our self-love be touched in the slightest
degree, we soon show by our feelings and our
actions that we are very far from being humble.
If, on the contrary, something honourable or
advantageous be offered to us, we are as far
from rejecting it as those of whom I have just
been speaking as so imperfect in their spirit
of poverty are from refusing any thing which
may be profitable to them. It will be well,
even, if we do not seek it. We have these
words, " I desire nothing â€” I care for nothing,"
so continually in our mouths that, by dint of
repeating them, we come to believe what we
say.

It is most important, then, to watch continually over ourselves, in order to discover this
temptation, not only in the things of which I
have just been speaking, but in many others,
because it is well known that when our Lord
really gives us a single virtue, it seems to draw
all others after it; and, moreover, when you
believe you have any virtue, you should always
fear lest you deceive yourself, because he who is
truly humble always doubts his own virtue,
and believes that of others to be incomparably
greater and more real than his own.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXXI

Duty of nuns to pray for ecclesiastics and religions who are labouring in the world â€” Prayer of S. Teresa.

Since the heresies which have arisen in this
century are like a consuming fire which is
making continual progress, and which is beyond the power of man to stay, it seems to me
that we should act as a prince would do, who,
being not sufficiently strong to resist the enemies who are ravaging his country in the open
field, would retire with some chosen troops into
a strong fortress, whence he would make excursions with that small band, which would
harass them far more than the attack of a
multitude of undisciplined troops; for such a
garrison is sure to obtain the victory, or at
worst can only perish by famine, there being
no traitor among them. Now, my sisters, in
our convents we may indeed be pressed by
famine, but it will not compel us to surrender.
It may kill us, but will never overcome us.
Why, then, do I say this to you? It is to
show you that we ought to ask of God not to
suffer that in the citadel whither His good
servants have retired there should be any to
take part with His enemies, but that He would
strengthen the virtue and the courage of preachers and theologians, who are, as it were, the
leaders of His troops, and that He would grant
that religious, who constitute the great body
of His soldiers, should advance daily in the
perfection required by their holy vocation.
This is of infinite moment, because we are to
expect our deliverance from supernatural, and
not from natural, means.

Since we are incapable of rendering any
service on this occasion to our King, let us
endeavour, at least, to become so pleasing to
Him that our prayers may assist those among
His servants who, being endowed with learning and virtue, labour so courageously in His
service. Now, if you ask me why I insist so
much upon this point, and exhort you to assist
those who are much better than ourselves, I
reply, that it is because I do not believe that
you as jet sufficiently understand how great is
the gratitude which you owe to God for having
brought you into a place where you are free
from the business, the engagements, and the
conversations of the world. This favour is
much greater than you can conceive, and those
of whom I speak are far from enjoying it, â€” nor
would it be fit that they should enjoy it, especially in these days, since it is their part to
strengthen the weak and encourage the timid.
For what could soldiers do without a captain?
It is necessary, therefore, that they should live
among men, that they should converse with
men, that they should be seen in the palaces
of kings and of great men, and bear themselves
externally like other men.

Do you think, then, my daughters, that it
requires little virtue to live in the world, to
converse with the world, and to be mixed up
with the affairs of the world, and at the same
time to be in heart not only detached from
the world, but even it? enemy, to live upon
earth as if in a place of banishment, â€” in short,
to be Angels, and not men? for unless they be
such, they deserve not to bear the name of our
Lord's captains, and I beseech Him not to
suffer them to leave their cells â€” they would
do far more harm than good in the world; for
this is no time for men to see the faults of
those who ought to be their teachers. If,
then, they be not well established in piety, and
fully persuaded how deeply they are bound to
trample all earthly interests under foot, to be
detached from all perishable things, and attached only to those that are eternal, they will
be unable to help betraying their faults, however carefully they may seek to conceal them.
As it is with the world they have to deal, they
may rest assured that not one of their defects
will be passed over, but that it will remark
their very slightest imperfections, without noticing, perhaps even without believing in, their
good qualities.

I often wonder from whom it is that men of
the world learn the true nature of perfection,
for they study it not in order to follow it â€”
to which they think themselves by no means
obliged, accounting it quite enough for them
to keep the letter of the commandments â€” but
to employ that knowledge in examining and
condemning the minutest defects of their neighbour. So far do they sometimes carry their
refined criticism, that they mistake for imperfection and relaxation something which is, in
fact, a virtue. Do you imagine, then, that the
servants of God have no need of an extraordinary
aid from Him to carry them safely through
this arduous and perilous warfare?

Strive, then, my sisters, to merit from our
Lord these two things, which you should continually ask of His Divine Majesty: First, that
amongst the many learned and religious persons who labour in this great work there may
be many qualified to succeed therein, and that
it may please Him to render those capable of
the task who are not yet sufficiently qualified
for it ; for a single perfect man will render
Him greater service than a multitude who are
imperfect. Second, that when they are engaged
in so momentous a conflict, our Lord will sustain them by His almighty hand, that they
may not stumble among the continual dangers
to which they are exposed in the world, but
may shut their ears against the song of the
sirens which beset that perilous sea. For
if in the strict enclosure wherein we dwell
we are enabled by our prayers in any measure
to contribute to this great work, we shall have
our share also in the conflict for God; and I
shall account the labours to have been well
employed which I have endured in the establishment of this little house, where I desire
that the rule of the Blessed Virgin, our Queen,
may be observed with the same perfection as
at the beginning.

Think not, my daughters, that this continual
prayer for others is of no avail, though many
would persuade us that we should do better to
be praying for ourselves. Believe me, that no
prayers are more profitable than those that we
offer for others; and if you fear that they may
not avail to lessen your sufferings in purgatory,
I reply, that they are too holy not to avail you
there. But even were you to lose something
in this respect, be content ; for what matter
though I should remain in purgatory until the
day of judgment, if by my prayers I may
save a single soul â€” still more, if I may save
many, and so greatly promote the glory of our
Lord ? Despise, my sisters, those pains which
are but temporary in comparison with a service of far greater account which you may
render to Him Who has suffered so much for
the love of us. Labour continually to learn
what is most perfect, and converse on things
concerning your salvation with persons who
are learned and able to instruct you ; so shall
you promote the glory of God and the good of
His Church, the only object of my desire.

It would indeed be great presumption in me
to believe that I could do any thing to obtain
so great a grace ; but I trust, O my God, to
the prayers of Thy servants with whom I live,
because I know that they have no other thought
or desire but to please Thee. For the love of
Thee they have left the little which they po
sessed, and would have left far more, had it
been theirs, for Thy service. How, then, can
I believe, O my Creator, that Thou, Who art
so grateful for the love of Thy creatures, wouldst
reject their petitions? I know that when Thou
wast on earth Thou didst never despise poor
women, but in Thy great goodness didst even
show especial favour to many among them.
When we shall ask Thee for honour, or gold,
or any of those things which the world seeks
after, then do not hear us. But wherefore, O
Eternal Father, shouldst Thou not listen to
those who ask only for such things as relate to
the glory of Thy Son, who make it their only
delight to serve Thee, and who would give Thee
a thousand lives? And yet I do not ask Thee,
Lord, to grant us this grace for the love of us
â€” I know that we do not deserve it; but I
hope for it in consideration of the merits of
Thy Son, of the glorious Virgin His Mother,
of the Martyrs and Saints who have laid down
their lives for Thee. But, alas, O Lord, who
am I, that I should dare to present this petition
in their name! Alas, my daughters, what an
evil mediatrix to offer such a prayer for you,
and to obtain it! Will not my boldness rather
serve to increase the just indignation of the
awful and sovereign Judge Whose clemency I
implore? But, O Lord, since Thou art a God
of mercy, have pity on this poor, sinful woman,
this miserable worm of earth, and pardon my
boldness. Consider not my sins; consider,
rather, the earnestness of my desires, and the
tears which I pour forth with my prayer. I
beseech Thee for Thine own sake, have pity
on the multitude of souls which are perishing.
O Lord, come to the aid of Thy Church, stay
the torrent of evils which overwhelm Christendom, and make Thy light to shine amid our
darkness.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXXII

Error of those authors who forbid the contemplation of our Lord's Humanity.

Some spiritual books recommend their readers
not to contemplate the Humanity of our Lord
in prayer, and to occupy themselves solely with
His Divinity, because they say that the contemplation of any thing corporeal, though it be
the Humanity of Jesus Christ Himself, is a
hindrance to those far advanced in prayer, and
that it prevents them from attaining perfect
contemplation. They allege in their defence
the words addressed by our Lord to His Apostles before His ascension into heaven; but it
seems to me, that if the Apostles had then believed as firmly as they believed it after the
descent of the Holy Ghost that Jesus Christ
was both God and Man, the sight of His
Humanity would have been no hindrance to
their attaining to the highest degree of contemplation. That which leads these contemplative writers to this conclusion is their opinion, that as contemplation is a thing wholly
spiritual, the representation of any thing corporeal must be a hindrance to it, and that we
should endeavour to consider ourselves as surrounded on all sides by God, and as it were
absorbed in Him. This consideration, in my
opinion, is often very useful to us; but to
carry it so far as to separate ourselves from a
portion of our Lord's being, by setting aside
the thought of His Sacred Humanity, which we
thus class with our own miserable bodies and
other created objects, is a thought which I
cannot endure.

If our weakness does not permit us to contemplate our Divine Saviour amid the torments
of His Passion, overwhelmed with sorrow and
suffering, persecuted by those whom He bad
loaded with benefits, torn with stripes, bathed
in His Blood, and forsaken by His Apostles,,
because the sight of this would be too grievous
a pain to us, what hinders us bearing Him
company in His risen life, especially when we
have Him so close to us in the Holy Eucharist,
in the same glorified state in which He appeared before His ascension into heaven, exhorting and encouraging His disciples to become
worthy one day to reign with Him eternally in
heaven?

Thus, although we had attained the highest
degree of contemplation, let us seek no other
road than this, in which it is impossible to go
astray; for it is from this Divine Saviour that
we must learn to practise all virtues. He shows
us the means, He gives us the example of them
in His life, He is the perfect model of all virtues; and what more can we desire than to
have such a Friend ever at our side, Who never
forsakes us, as do worldly friends, in trial and
suffering? Do we not see that the glorious
S. Paul had His name continually on his lips,
because it was ever engraven on his heart?
and ever since I have known this truth, and
have carefully considered the lives of great
contemplative Saints, I have observed that they
have never taken any road but this. We see
it in S. Francis, by his love for the Wounds
of that Divine Saviour; in S. Anthony of Padua,
by his devotion to. His Sacred and Divine Infancy; in S. Bernard, by his delight in the
contemplation of His holy Humanity; in S.
Catherine of Sienna; and in a multitude of
other Saints. I doubt not that it is good to
detach our thoughts from corporeal things, as
so many spiritual persons say so; but this can
only be when we are far advanced in prayer;
for it is evident, until we attain that point,
we must seek the Creator by means of creatures, according to the grace which our Lord
bestows upon each of us. Of this I do not
now undertake to speak. What I wish to say,
and what I would endeavour clearly to explain,
because we cannot lay it too deeply to heart,
is, that among the objects from which we should
detach ourselves, we are on no account to
number the most Sacred Humanity of our
Lord.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXXIII

Temptation which often assails a soul which has renounced sin in its endeavours to unite itself more perfectly to God in prayer.

Into what trouble and temptation do the spirits
of darkness cast these poor souls! On one
hand, reason represents to them that all that
is in the world should be accounted as nothing
in comparison to the happiness to which they
aspire. Faith teaches them that this happiness
ought to be the object of all their desires. The
memory shows them what is the end of all
things here below; it reminds them of those
who have fallen from great prosperity into
extreme misery, of the sudden death of many
who had lived in every worldly delight; of
those bodies, nourished with such delicacy, now
the food of worms; and many other lessons of
the like kind. The will induces them to love
Him alone, from whom they have not only
received their life and being, but manifold other
proofs of His love. The understanding teaches
them that were they to live for centuries to
come, they could never find so faithful a friend :
that the world is nothing but vanity and falsehood; that the pleasures which the devil promises
them, and the pains with which he threatens
them, are but delusions; that it would be gross
folly on their part to leave the abundance of
their home and go forth like the prodigal son
to feed upon husks with the swine after having
squandered their inheritance. These reasons are
fitting enough to convince such souls, and to
enable them to triumph over the enemy. But,
O my Lord and God, the strength of vain custom has such a hold upon the world, that it
overthrows all reason; for faith being all but
extinct, we prefer what we see to what it
teaches us.

What need has the soul in this state, O my
Divine Saviour, of Thy heavenly succour! Suffer
it not to abandon its enterprise, teach it that
its eternal happiness depends upon its perseverance; teach it how important it is that it
should depart from evil companions and stand
always on its guard. If the devil sees it absolutely resolved to suffer all things, and death
itself, rather than give way, he will soon retire
and leave it in repose.

Here it is that the soul shows its generosity,
unlike the cowardly soldiers whom Gedeon sent
back when he went forth to battle. It must not
look for pleasure and satisfaction; for is it not
a marvellous thing that when our virtues are
but newly born, and are still mingled with a
thousand imperfections we should dare to look
for sweetness in prayer and to complain of our
aridities? Let it never be thus with you, my
sisters. Embrace the cross which your Spouse
has carried, never forget that it is to this yon
have solemnly bound yourselves, and that they
should account themselves happiest who can
suffer most for the love of Him. This is the
chief point, and all the rest you should account
as an accessory for which you will return Him
thanks if He is pleased to bestow it upon you.

You will think, perhaps, that if only you
could receive interior favours from God, there
are no exterior sufferings which you would not
gladly endure : but He knows better than we
what is good for us; it is not our part to' give
Him counsel; and He may well say to us, that
We know not what we ask. Never forget, I
pray you, for greatly it behoves you to remember it, that those who are beginning the life
of prayer should labour with all their power to
conform their will to the will of God, and should
firmly believe that in this conformity consists
the greatest perfection which they can acquire
in this spiritual exercise, and the farthest progress which they can make on this road to
heaven.

I have spoken elsewhere more fully of the
mode of resisting such temptations as the devil
sets before us to trouble us in our prayer, and
that it must not be done with violence, but that
we must endeavour sweetly and gently to collect
our thoughts. As to the rest, be not troubled
if you think you are wanting in certain things
which are not essential Best assured that if
you persevere in the exercise of prayer, God
will turn all things to your advantage; whereas
if you abandon prayer, there is no remedy to
binder your gradual declension from Him but
to resume its exercise. May God give you a
full understanding of this momentous truth!

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXXIV

Aridities in prayer ought neither to astonish nor discourage us.

We must never be induced by any dryness
which we experience therein to abandon the
exercise of prayer; though this dryness were
to last continually, we ought to regard it as a
cross which it is good for us to bear, and which
our Lord aids us invisibly to carry. We can
lose nothing in the service of so good a Master,
and a time will come when He will repay us
with usury for the slightest thing which we
have done for Him. Be not disquieted, then, by
evil thoughts, but remember that the devil tormented S. Jerome with them even in the midst
of the desert. I have suffered these pains for
many years together, and I know how great
they are; but I have clearly seen that God
rewards them so bountifully even in this life,
that one hour of the consolations which He has
since given me in prayer has repaid me for all
that I had suffered during that long time. Our
Lord permits these troubles and many other
temptations to befall some at the beginning and
others during the progress of their course of
prayer, and this conduct of His towards us is,
doubtless, for our greater benefit; for as He
purposes to bestow upon us such great graces
at last, He desires first to make us experience
our own misery, lest that which befell Lucifer
should come upon us.

What dost Thou omit to do, Lord, for the
greater good of the soul which Thou knowest
to be wholly Thine, which abandons itself absolutely to Thy Will, being resolved to follow
Thee unto death, even the death of the cross â€”
to help Thee to bear Thy cross, and never to
abandon Thee?

Those who have made this generous resolve,
and have also renounced all earthly things to
seek only spiritual blessings, have nothing to
fear; for what can trouble those who despise
all the pleasures of earth, and seek those only
which come from conversing with God? They
have overcome the great difficulty in their
course. Give thanks, then, O blessed souls, to
His Divine Majesty, trust to His goodness, which
never forsakes those whom He loves, and beware
of entertaining this thought: Why does He give
to others in a few days that devotion which He
withholds from me after so many years? Let
us believe that this is for our greater good; and
seeing that we belong not to ourselves, but to
God, let us leave Him to guide us as it shall
please Him.

We must observe carefully â€” and my own
experience leads me to say this with confidence
â€” that a soul which has begun to walk in the
path of mental prayer, with a fall resolution to
persevere therein, regardless of what may befall
her, either in the way of consolation or desolation, has no cause â€” though she may sometimes
stumble â€” to fear that she will draw back, or
behold the spiritual edifice which she has begun
fall into ruins; for she builds upon an immovable foundation, inasmuch as the love of God
consists not in shedding tears, or in that tenderness and spiritual delight which we desire
simply for our own consolation, but it consists
in serving God courageously, in practising
justice, in exercising ourselves in humility; to
do otherwise is to desire to receive continually
and to give nothing in return.

For weak women like myself, I believe it is
good that God should favour them with consolations, to give them strength to bear the trials
which He is pleased to send them; but I cannot
endure to hear learned men, of great powers,
and who profess to serve God, make so much
account of those sweetnesses which are to be
found in devotion, and complain when they do
not receive them. I do not say that if God be
pleased to give these favours, they are not to be
received with joy, â€” but I say that those who
have them not, are not to be troubled, but to
believe that such things are not necessary for
them, since our Lord does not bestow them, and
that they should remain quiet, and consider
uneasiness and trouble of mind as a fault and
imperfection which befits only cowardly souls,
as I have often seen and experienced.

I say not this so much for beginners as
for that great multitude who, having begun, make no further progress. As soon as
their understanding ceases to act they imagine that they are doing nothing, they disquiet and afflict themselves greatly, although
it may be that all the time their will, unconsciously to themselves, is gaining strength for
good, and that what they consider as failings
and faults are not such in the eyes of God. He
knows better their misery than they know it
themselves, and is satisfied with the desire they
have to think of Him and to love Him, which
is the one thing that He requires of them; and
all this sadness serves only to disquiet the soul
and to render it still more incapable of advancing.

I can assert positively, from the testimony of
my own experience and that of many spiritual
persons with whom I have conversed on the
subject, that this state of aridity often arises
from bodily indisposition. So great is our
misery that, so long as the soul is enclosed in
the prison-house of the body, it partakes of all
its infirmities, â€” the variation of its humors
and even the change of the weather often so
affect the soul that without any fault of its
own it cannot do what it would, and suffers in
many different ways. At such times, the more
we endeavour to constrain it, the more does the
evil increase, so that we have great need of discernment to know when it proceeds from this
cause, lest we burden the soul instead of helping it. Persons in such a state ought to look
upon themselves as invalids, they should change
their hour of prayer for a time, and pass
through this trying season as best they may.

I have said that we must use discernment,
because it sometimes happens that the devil is
the cause of this evil; so that we must not
always interrupt our prayer when our mind is
troubled and distracted, but neither must we
always strain a soul which is already over-tasked. Books and exterior works of charity
may then occupy it, and if we are not capable
even of this, we must then give way for the
love of God to the weakness of our body, in
order to enable it hereafter to serve Him in
its turn. We must take the recreation of holy
conversations, and even, if our confessor advise
it, of country air; experience will show us what
is best for us in such cases. In whatever state
we may be, we can always serve God. His yoke
is sweet, and it is of great importance not to
force the soul, but to lead it gently and sweetly
to that which is most profitable for it.

I repeat again, and I cannot repeat it too
often, we must neither be disturbed nor afflicted
by these aridities, disquietudes, and distractions; we shall never be delivered from them,
nor acquire a blessed liberty of spirit, until we
begin not to fear the cross; for then our Lord
will help us to bear it, and our sadness shall be
turned into joy.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXXV

Action, or the service of God, ought to be the end of contemplation.

I WISH, my sisters, that the end of your prayer
should not be the enjoyment of contemplation,
but the acquisition of greater strength for the
service of God. To use that precious time for
any other purpose, is simply to throw it away;
for how can we expect to receive such favours
from our Lord if we follow another path from
that in which He and all His Saints have ever
walked? To offer a fitting reception to that
Divine Guest, Martha and Mary must unite
together; for would it be a hospitable reception
to give Him nothing to eat? And who would
have given it to Him if Martha had sat at His
feet like Mary, listening to His words? Now,
what is the nourishment which He desires, but
that we should labour with all our power to
gain for Him souls who shall love and praise
Him, and who shall work out their own salvation by the praises they offer Him, and the
services they fender to Him?

Here you will, perhaps, make two objections :
first, that our Lord says that Magdalen had
chosen the better part; to which I reply, that
she had already fulfilled the part of Martha
when she washed His feet and wiped them
with her hair; for what a mortification, think
you, must it have been to a person of her
condition thus to go through the street, and
probably all alone, in the fervour of her love,
to enter the house of a stranger, and to endure
the contempt of the Pharisees, and the reproaches
cast by them on her past life? for those proud
men doubtless made a mock of her conversion,
saying that she wished to play the saint, as
such persons say still of those who desire to
turn truly to God, though their reputation may
not have been so evil as was that of this admirable penitent. Again, it is certain, my sisters,
that she had the better part, inasmuch as she
had the portion of intense suffering; for, not to
speak of the intolerable grief which she experienced at the sight of a whole people possessed
by so fearful a hatred against its Redeemer,
what anguish did she endure in witnessing His
death? We see, then, that this illustrious
Saint was not always at our Lord's feet in joy
and consolation.

The second objection which you may perhaps
make is; that you would gladly labour to win
souls for God, but that your condition and sex
forbid it, because they render you incapable of
preaching and teaching as the Apostles did. I
have answered this objection elsewhere, but I
will not fail to recall here what I have said
before, because this thought may help you to
fulfil the good desires with which God has
inspired you.

I said, then, that it sometimes happens that
the devil suggests to us undertakings beyond
our strength, in order to induce us to abandon
those which are within our reach, so that our
thoughts may be taken up with nothing but
projects which are impracticable to us. Content
yourselves, therefore, with the assistance which,
by your prayers, you may render to a few
souls, and do not attempt to be useful to the
whole world. Try to benefit the persons in
whose society you live, and to whom you are
under greater obligations than you are to others,
inasmuch as they have the first claim upon your
charity. Do you think that you will be doing
little by inciting and encouraging them all by
your humility, your mortification, your charity,
and every other virtue, to increase more and
more in the love of God, and in holy zeal for
His service? Nothing can be more pleasing
to Him, or more profitable to you; and, when
He thus sees that you do all that it is in your
power to do, He will know that you would do
far more still if you were able, and will reward
you no less abundantly than if you had gained
a multitude of souls for Him.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXXVI

That without the gift of contemplation we may attain to perfection.

I ONCE knew a great servant of God who had
attained an advanced age, and led a most
.penitential and saintly life, â€” one whom, indeed,
I should be most thankful to resemble, â€” who
employed days and years in the exercise of
vocal prayer, without ever attaining to the gift
of contemplation; all that she could do was to
dwell upon these vocal prayers, pronouncing
but a few words at a time. There are many
other persons in the same state; but if only
they be humble, I believe that, in the end,
they will do far better than those who have
much consolation and much sensible devotion
in their prayer; perhaps this humbler way is
one of greater security, for we have often
reason to doubt whether such consolations
come from God; and, if they do not come from
Rim, they are very dangerous, because the
devil makes use of them to excite us to vanity;
whereas, if they do come from God, there is
nothing to fear, for they will be always accompanied by humility.

Moreover, those who do not enjoy His consolations always fear that this arises from
their own fault; this keeps them humble, and
excites them to a continual desire to advance.
They never see others shed a single tear without imagining that if they shed not so many, it
is because they are far behind them in the
service of God, whereas, it may be, they are
greatly in advance of them. For tears, although
they be a good sign, do not constitute perfection,
and there is far greater security in mortification, detachment, and the exercise of the other
virtues. If only, then, you practise these, fear
not but that you will arrive at perfection as
surely as more contemplative souls.

Was not Martha a Saint, though we do not
read that she was a contemplative? And what
can you desire more than to be like that
blessed woman, who was accounted worthy to
receive our Lord so often into her house, to
provide food for Him, to serve Him, and to sit
down at His table? If, like her sister, she
had been always in raptures and ecstasies, who
would have taken care of their Divine Guest?
Religious ought to consider that the convent is
the house of S. Martha as well as of S. Magdalen, and that it ought to partake of the
character of both sisters. Let those, then,
whom God leads by the way of the active life,
take good care not to murmur at those whom
they observe to be absorbed in the life of
contemplation, because they may be assured
our Lord will undertake their defence against
those who may accuse them. Nay, even should
He not speak for them, such contemplative
souls should abide in peace, having' received
from Him the grace to forget themselves and
all created things. Let the others remember
that it is needful that there should be some one
to prepare a table for Him, and account themselves happy to serve Him with S. Martha. Let
them consider that true humility consists chiefly
in submitting ourselves willingly to all that our
Lord requires of us, and accounting ourselves
unworthy to bear the name of His servants.

Thus, whether we are devoted to contemplation, whether we make mental or vocal prayer,
whether we wait upon the sick, or be employed
in the lowest or meanest offices in the house,
what does it matter, since in all these things
we are serving that Divine Guest Who comes
to lodge, eat, and repose with us?

I do not say, nevertheless, that you are not
to do what you can to attain to contemplation.
I say, on the contrary, that you should make
every effort in your power to attain to it,
only remembering that your success depends on
the will of God alone, and not on your own
choice; for if, after you have served Him for
many years in the same office, He desires that
you still remain there, would it not be a strange
kind of humility to wish to pass to another?
Leave the Master of the house to order all
things as it pleases Him. He is all-wise and
almighty. He knows what is fittest for you
and most pleasing to Himself. Be assured, if
you do all that is in your power, and if you
prepare yourself for contemplation in a manner
as perfect as that which I have set before
you, â€” that is to say, with entire detachment
and true humility, â€” He will assuredly give it
to you; or, if not, it is because He waits to
give it to you in heaven with all other virtues,
and treats you like a strong and generous
soul, making yon to bear your cross here
below as He Himself bore it as long as He
was in the world. Can He, then, give you a
greater mark of His love than thus to choose
for you what He chose for Himself? And may
it not be that it would be far less advantageous
to you to attain to contemplation than to
remain in the state in which yon now are?
These are secrets which He reserves to Himself,
and which it belongs not to us to fathom. It
is far better for us that He should not leave it
to our own choice; for we want to become
great contemplatives all at once, for the sake of
enjoying greater sweetness and repose. What
is most advantageous for us is, not to seek our
own advantage, for so we shall never have the
fear of losing that which we have never desired.
Our Lord will not permit one who has truly
mortified her own will by submitting it to His
to lose any thing, but for her own greater gain
at last.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

Chapter XXXVII

Maxims addressed by the Saint to her religious.

1. Land which is uncultivated, though it be
very fertile, will produce briers and thorns,
and so will it be with a man's understanding.

2. Speak well of spiritual persons; such as
religious, priests, and hermits,

3. Speak little when you are in company
with many persons.

4. Observe great modesty in all your words
and actions.

5. Never contend eagerly, especially on matters
of little moment.

6. Speak to all persons with a well-regulated
cheerfulness.

7. Never treat any one with contempt

8. Never blame any one without discretion
and humility, and a secret confusion at your
own faults,

9. Accommodate yourselves to the mood of
those with whom you converse; be glad with,
the joyful, and sad with the sorrowful, â€” in a
word, become all things to all, that so you may
gain all.

10. Never speak without weighing your
words well, and fervently recommending them
to our Lord, that so you may say nothing to
displease Him.

11. Never excuse yourself unless you have
strong reasons for doing so.

12. Never mention any thing concerning
yourself which may redound to your praise,
such as your knowledge, virtues, high birth,
unless, you have some reason to hope it may do
good; and then mention it with humility, remembering that all these gifts come from the
hand of God.

13. Never use exaggerated expressions; but
give your opinion calmly and simply.

14. In every conversation endeavour to but
in some spiritual subject, for this may prevent
idle words and detraction.

15. Never assert any thing of which you
are not quite certain.

16. Never give your opinion on any matter
unless it be asked, or unless charity require
you to do so.

17. When any one speaks to you on spiritual
subjects, listen to him with humility, and as a
disciple to his master, and take to yourself
whatever good he may impart.

18. Discover all your temptations to your
superior and your confessor, and also your imperfections and difficulties, that they may give you
counsels and remedies whereby to overcome
them.

19. Do not remain out of your cell, nor
leave it, without a reason; and when you do
so, beg God's grace that you may not offend
Him.

20. Never eat or drink but at the appointed
time, and then give thanks to God.

21. Do every thing as if you saw His
Majesty present with you, for by this means
a soul makes great progress.

22. Never speak evil or listen to evil of any
one except yourself; and when you take pleasure '
in observing this rule, you are going on well.

23. Offer every action you perform to God,
and pray that it may tend to His honour and glory.

24. When you are merry, use no immoderate laughter; but let your mirth be humble,
modest, gentle, and edifying.

25. Always consider yourself to be the
servant of all, and behold Christ our Lord in
all; and thus you will show them due respect
and reverence.

26. Be ever ready to obey, as if Christ our
Lord, in the person of your superior, had
commanded you.

27. In every action, and at every hour,
examine your conscience; and having observed
your defects, endeavour to correct them by the
Divine assistance : by this means you will soon
attain perfection.

28. Take no notice of the defects of others,
but only of their virtues, and observe your
own defects.

29. Always cherish a strong desire of suffering for Christ in all things and on all
occasions.

30. Every day make frequent oblations of
yourself to God, and that with great fervour,
and an earnest desire to possess Him.

31. Place before you throughout the day the
subject of your morning's meditation, and use
great diligence in this respect, for it will be of
great benefit to you.

32. Observe carefully the thoughts, with
which our Lord may inspire you, and execute
the desires which He shall give you in prayer.

33. Shun singularity as much as possible,
it does great harm in a community.

34. Often read the constitutions and rules of
your order, and observe them faithfully.

35. In every creature consider the providence and wisdom of God, and praise Him in
them all.

36. Disengage your heart from all things.
Seek God, and you will find Him.

37. Conceal your devotion as far as possible
and never show outwardly more than you have
within.

38. Do not discover your inward devotion
unless constrained by some great necessity. "My
secret to myself," said S. Francis and S. Bernard.

39. Complain not of your diet, whether it be
good or bad, remembering the gall and vinegar
of Jesus Christ.

40. Speak to no one at table, nor lift up
your eyes to look at any one.

41. Think on the table of heaven and its food,
viz. God Himself; and its guests, viz. the
Angels: raise your eyes to that table, and
desire to sit down at it.

42. Before your superior (in whom you
behold Christ Himself), never speak except
what is necessary, and that with great reverence..

43. Never do any thing which you would
not do before every one.

44. Make no comparisons between persons,
for comparisons are odious.

45. When you are blamed for any thing,
receive the reproof with interior and exterior
humility, and pray to God for the person from
whom you have received it.

46. When one superior gives you a command, do not tell him that another commands
the contrary; but believe that the intentions of
both are holy, and obey the command given
you.

47. Be not curious to discover secrets; ask
not questions about things that -do not concern
you.

48. Cease not to bewail your past life and
your present tepidity, and your unfitness for
heaven; that so you may live in fear, which
will bring great good to your soul.

49. Always do what those with whom you
live desire of you, if it be not contrary to obedience, and answer them at all times with
humility and sweetness.

50. Ask for nothing peculiar in diet and
apparel except upon some urgent necessity.

51. Never desist from mortifying and humbling yourself in all things till the day of your
death.

52. Ever accustom yourself to make frequent acts of love, for they inflame and soften
the soul.

53. Make acts of all other virtues.

54. Offer all things to the Eternal Father,
together with the merits of His Son Jesus
Christ.

55. Be gentle to all, and to yourself severe.

56. On the festivals of the Saints, meditate
on their virtues, and beseech God to endow you
with them.

57. Use great care every night in the examination of your conscience.

58. On the days when you communicate,
let the subject of your prayer be, that so
miserable a sinner as yourself is allowed to receive God; and reflect at night that you have
received Him. '

59. When you are superioress, never blame
any one in anger, but wait till it is over, and
so your rebuke will do good.

60. Diligently aim at perfection and devotion, and do all that you have to do devoutly
and perfectly.

61. Exercise yourself diligently in the fear
of the Lord, which keeps the soul in compunction and humility.

62. Consider well how quickly men change,
and how little reason we have to trust them:
adhere, therefore, closely to God, Who is unchangeable.

63. Endeavour to treat concerning the affairs of your soul with a confessor who is
spiritual and learned, and follow his counsels
in all things.

64. Whenever you communicate, beg some
gifts of God, through the great mercy whereby
He is pleased to come into your poor soul.

65. Though you may have many Saints for
your advocates, address your requests particularly to S. Joseph, for his power is very great
with God.

66. In time of sadness and trouble, do not
omit your accustomed good works, whether of
prayer or penance, â€” for the devil will try to
make you neglect them, â€” but rather practise
them more diligently than before; and you will
see how soon the Lord will relieve you.

67. Do not discover your temptations and
imperfections to those who have made little
progress towards perfection (for thereby you
may injure both yourself and them), but only
to the more perfect.

68. Remember that you have only one soul;
that you can die but once; that you have but
one short life; that there is but one glory, and
that eternal: and this thought will detach you
from many things.

69. Let your desire be to see God, your fear
lest you lose Him, your sorrow that you do not
enjoy Him, your joy in that which may bring
you to Him; and thus shall you live in great
peace.

Lines written by S. Teresa in her Breviary,

Let nothing disturb thee,

Let nothing affright thee;

All passeth away :

God only shall stay.

Patience wins all:

Who hath God, needeth nothing;

For God is his All.

Novena Before The Feast Of S Teresa

Preparatory Prayer

Glorious Mother S. Teresa of Jesus, who art
amongst Virgins what the Seraphim are amongst
Angels; happy Virgin, who wast consumed by
the fire of Divine love and filled with the seraphic spirit, â€” if my prayers and my desires tend
to the greater glory of God, present them to His
Divine Majesty, and beg Jesus Christ, thy
Divine Spouse, to accept them. But if, alas!
I err in my petitions, change them, I earnestly
entreat thee; form others for me in their stead,
and obtain for me what will be most pleasing
to God, most conducive to His glory, and most
profitable to my own soul. Amen.

Novena Before The Feast Of S Teresa

First Day

Meditation on S. Teresa's spirit of prayer in relation
to the virtue of humility.

Humility consists in the knowledge of ourselves,
in a sincere contempt of ourselves, and in bearing, and even desiring, to be despised by others.
These are the steps by which the soul attains
to this sublime virtue. If S. Teresa had not
been devoted to prayer, she would have been
especially exposed to the danger of pride and
vain-glory by the superiority of her intellectual
powers. It was necessary for her to descend
into her inmost self to discover her own nothingness, and it was by a wonderful grace from God
that she was enabled to bring her mind into
subjection, and to lose it in the Divine Immensity. She would never have learned that she
was nothing without the aid of the sublime
degree of prayer to which she was raised by
God. She acknowledged herself, by the light
therein received, to be weak, frivolous, and
liable to commit great faults; she wondered
that she was not treated as an outcast by all
men, and looked upon herself as unworthy of
a place in the house of God. If her prayer
had not been of the highest order, her intellect
would have betrayed her, it would have gained
the ascendency over some passing desires of
humility and humiliation; but finding herself
absorbed in the fulness of God, in that Infinity
in which all created perfection disappears, she
conceived that profound contempt of herself
which subdues every illusion of the intellect.
When we wish thoroughly to know ourselves,
we must begin by asking for grace to know
God â€” we must enter upon the study of God,
if I may venture thus to speak â€” which is what
the Apostle recommended to the first Christians
when he spoke to them continually of the
knowledge of Jesus Christ. Why is the world
vain and presumptuous, but because it does
not possess this knowledge, which the Apostle
declares to be above all other? S. Teresa
possessed it in an eminent degree; and she
owed this knowledge to continued prayer, inspired and animated by the quickening breath
of the Holy Spirit. This wonderful woman
has written of the things of God with a power
and unction of which she was probably alone
unconscious, so great was her conviction of her
own unworthiness and inability. She in some
sort resembled those Prophets who, when they
announced the mysteries of salvation, declared
that they knew not how to speak, and that
they were as nothing in the sight of God.
Oh, when shall I understand the nature of
that prayer which was the foundation of S.
Teresa's humility I when shall I devote myself
to it, if not in such an eminent degree, at least
in such a measure as may teach me to know
and despise myself! I shall never be humble,
O my God, till I give myself up to the practice
of prayer! It is the only way in which I can
learn to see Thy greatness and my misery, Thy
benefits and my ingratitude, Thy love and my
indifference. Give me, O Lord, one ray of
that light which illuminated S. Teresa, one
drop of that unction which overflowed her soul,
one spark of that sacred fire which inflamed
her heart. And do thou, holy lover of Jesus,
look favourably upon me, and obtain for me
the grace so to pray, that I may annihilate
myself, and be lost in the abyss of all knowledge and in the furnace of pure love.

Prayer.

Most sweet Jesus, Divine Spouse of S. Teresa,
Who didst engrave on her soul such solid,
sublime, and at the same time such profound
humility, that she never swerved from it in
the high state of sanctity to which Thou wast
pleased to raise her, nor ever lost sight of her
lowliness and nothingness, although favoured
nth the most wonderful graces, and raised to a
state of the highest contemplation, in which
her heroic actions and wonderful miracles drew
upon her the applause of men; I entreat Thee,
Divine Jesus, by this great humility of Thy
spouse, to grant me such a true and solid
humility, as will make me to know my faults;
dispel die darkness of my soul, and preserve
me from the subtle poison of vanity, and finally
dispose my heart to receive the grace which [
ask of Thee in this Novena, if it be for the
greater glory of God. Amen.

Novena Before The Feast Of S Teresa

Second Day

Meditation on S. Teresa's spirit of prayer in relation
to the virtue of penance.

S. Teresa did not lay the foundation of her
perfection in penance, but in prayer; and the
royal Prophet did the same : he prostrated
himself at the feet of his God, and breathed
forth his sighs before Him; then he put on
sackcloth and watered his couch with his tears.
It is prayer which discovers the malice of sin,
and excites the sinner to avenge on his own
person the injuries offered to God. Jesus
Christ prays in the garden, and beholds Himself loaded with the sins of the whole human
race, and then says, "Rise, let us go; behold,
he is at hand that will betray Me." Oar Divine
Saviour goes from prayer to the praetorium and
to Calvary. S. Teresa, following His example,
strengthened herself by prayer against that
domestic enemy her body, and brought it into
subjection. We marvel at the austerities of
this Saint, and in general of all the holy friends
of God; and the reason is, that we do not know
the inspirations which they received from God in
prayer, nor are we able to conceive the fervour of soul which set them at such enmity
against their senses. A man of prayer is a
mortified man; if exterior crosses are wanting
to him, he invents them for himself, being
convinced that, as a sinner and a disciple of
Jesus Christ, he ought to suffer. It is a
proof that the penitential spirit of S. Teresa
had its origin in prayer, that her reform is
founded on prayer and on the continual daily
practice of an austere and penitential life.
It would have been impossible for her to persuade men and women to embrace a life so contrary to nature, if she had not begun by making
them lead a life of prayer. In the warfare
of the world, men do not expose themselves
to the fatigues of a campaign unless urged
to it by some powerful motive, such as glory,
_bition, or patriotism. In the spiritual conflict, we do not declare war against our senses
without being furnished with interior strength;
and this strength can be obtained only by
prayer. A man of prayer is never sensual,
and a man without prayer is never penitent.
Every body is not able to practise the austerities of S. Teresa; but whoever applies himself
to prayer will find a thousand ways of mortifying himself. He begins by cutting off every
kind of superfluity, and reduces himself to the
use of mere necessaries, so as to make his
life at least approach to a life of austerity; he
deprives himself of all pleasures, not only of
such as are dangerous, but even of such as are
lawful; he endeavours, according to the advice
of the devout author of the Imitation, always
rather to possess little than much; he blesses
God when occasions of suffering present themselves; he never lets a day pass without denying his senses some gratification; he secretly
practises, according to his condition, his strength,
and his measure of grace, some of the mortifications which devotion inculcates and authorises.

O penance, precious fruit of prayer, I esteem
and love thee, all immortified though I be! I
can say nothing in my defence when I behold
the example of the Saints, and especially the example of S. Teresa. I am not astonished at the
austerity of her penance, when I see how entirely she was given up to prayer. I behold
her clothed with the whole armour of salvation,
and I see that she perfectly apprehended those
words of the Apostle, who associates this holy
armour with the practice of prayer : "Put you
on," says he, "the armour of God, praying at
all times in the spirit." Lead me on, O Lord,
to penance by prayer, and sanctify my prayer
by penance, that my heart and mind may be
Thy victims in prayer, and that my body may
be also made a sacrifice to Thee by penance.

Prayer.

Most sweet Jesus, Divine Spouse of S. Teresa,
Who didst inspire her with a most rigorous
spirit of penance. Who didst suggest to her
means to people the world and the desert with
illustrious penitents and holy anchorites, to fill
with that same spirit the most timid souls, and
enable a multitude of women to triumph over
the natural weakness of their sex, and, as Thy
spouses, to lead an angelic life like those tender
flowers which bud and blossom in the midst of
thorns; I beseech Thee, O Divine Jesus, by
the austere penance of this Thy spouse, to give
me grace to mortify my body and to bring it
into subjection, and to lead a truly Christian
life, embracing willingly the holy severity of
penance, that so I may obtain the grace which
I ask in this Novena, if it be to the greater
glory of God. Amen.

Novena Before The Feast Of S Teresa

Third Day

Meditation on S. Teresa's spirit of prayer in relation
to the virtue of patience.

S. Teresa was called to a work which required
An invincible degree of patience. In addition
to the interior sufferings by which she was
tried by our Lord, He commanded her to restore the strict observance of the ancient rule
in the Order of Carmel â€” an undertaking in
many ways far more difficult than the foundation of a new congregation. The founders
of such holy societies have indeed to endure a
conflict with the world and its passions; but
reformers are opposed also by custom, prejudice, and even by the reason and prudence of
good men. Such persons often regard with no
favorable eye an attempt to set aside the mitigations granted by authority, confirmed, perhaps, by the use of many centuries, and approved
by a multitude of estimable persons. It is
necessary on such occasions to be able to distinguish what is due to legitimate authority
from the effects of an undue indulgence of
human infirmity and self-love. The remedy
for abuses must be sought in the midst of the
relaxed society, and the formation of new colonies necessarily leads to the depopulation of the
original institute. The reformer runs the risk
of being accounted an innovator, and is exposed
to the imputations of fickleness, ambition, and
disobedience. Such an undertaking is far more
delicate and difficult in the hands of a woman.
Men are slow to believe that she can have been
raised up by God for the accomplishment of a
work which would have been hard even to the
intellect and resolution of one of themselves.
Whatever her reputation for sanctity and illumination, innumerable obstacles will rise up in
her path, and her success â€” if she succeed at
last â€” will be at the cost of incredible labour
and suffering. Such was the position of Teresa.
Her natural powers might have enabled her to
govern an empire, but the Spirit of God alone
could have enabled her to undertake and accomplish the reform of Carmel. That Divine
Spirit endued her with light, strength, and perseverance, but it left her trials and crosses.
This was the very test of her direction and her
influence. The founders of Christianity suceeded in establishing it, because they were
guided by the Holy Ghost; but they gave their
hearts' blood for the full accomplishment of
their mission. Teresa pursued her way with
unchanging patience through her long course
of trial, contradiction, and persecution. Whence
did she derive that strength and constancy, but
from the unremitting exercise of prayer? Prayer
was the foundation of her work, the source of
her illumination, the armoury and the treasury
whence she derived her means and weapons
of success. She rose from prayer to confront
the difficulties in her path as the martyrs went
forth from prayer to torture and death. No
labour for her Divine Spouse was too great for
this courageous woman to undergo. She roused
the hearts of men to aid her, and quickened
them with her own energy. Toilsome journeys,
dissensions within, opposition without, the human
prudence of friends and directors, earth and hell
arrayed against her â€” all were alike impotent to
dismay or discourage her. In the distraction
of business around her, in the multitude of
obstacles before her, she kept herself closely
united to her Divine Saviour â€” the cross of
Jesus was her shelter. It was in prayer alone
that Teresa acquired her wonderful gift of
patience. The reform of Carmel is the crowning work of prayer; whence I may conclude
that, if I am feeble in my undertakings, impatient in the trials of life, full of distrust in
the work of my salvation, it is because the unfailing support of prayer is wanting to me. A
soul which is founded on prayer is like a rock
continually beaten by the waves, which is unmoved by the utmost fury oi the storm. O
my God, shall I always continue thus negligent in prayer! Shall I never seek to
establish my soul in peace by that mighty,
that only means of acquiring constancy amid
the troubles which surround me! O great
Saint, may I at last become thy disciple in the
life of prayer! I am not called to a work so
sublime as thine; but the enemies of my
salvation are terrible. Obtain for me the gift
of prayer, that I may resist and overcome them.

Prayer.

Most sweet Jesus, Divine Spouse of S. Teresa,
Thou didst fill her with the spirit of power,
and with an heroic courage to undertake immense labours for Thy glory; Thou didst give
her invincible patience in all the trials which
she had to endure; her life, her happiness, and
her glory consisted in suffering for Thee, and
the continual cry of that magnanimous and
burning heart was " to suffer or to die." I
beseech Thee, O Divine Jesus, by that invincible patience of this Thy glorious bride, to
grant to me a patience so perfect, that it may
be my consolation and glory amid the sufferings
and labours of this miserable life; that it may
secure to me happiness and eternity; that it
may efficaciously lead me to live amid sufferings, and to be crucified with Thee; and, lastly,
that it may merit for me the grace which I ask
in this Novena, if it be for the greater glory
of God. Amen.

Novena Before The Feast Of S Teresa

Fourth Day

Meditation on S. Teresa's spirit of prayer in relation
to interior trials.

It is in these interior trials that prayer is
especially needed, although at such times it
will be an extremely difficult and laborious
task. Interior trials are â€” temptations, aridity,
dereliction, the repugnance of the heart and
mind to all spiritual exercises. With the best
will to serve God, we seem then to be without
will, because clouds darken the soul and storms
overwhelm it. Under such circumstances prayer
is at once the only resource and the greatest
torture of the creature. Feeling its misery and
its need, it casts itself on the bosom of its
Creator, and that bosom seems to be closed
against it; it is attracted towards Gk)d, and at
the same time it seems to be repulsed by Him;
it desires to love Him alone, and yet feels as
if it were filled with opposition to His love;
glimpses of heavenly light are succeeded by
horrible darkness. No one ever experienced
the severity of these trials in a greater degree
than S. Teresa; and she had, moreover, to
endure perplexing doubts, arising from the
extraordinary nature of her vocation. Our
Lord led her by an interior guidance, the
reality of which men were slow to see and hard
to believe. Her directors disturbed instead of
consoling her, and, far from guiding her aright,
would have led her astray. If that great soul
had not been sustained by prayer, it would
have sunk under the weight of its trials, and
the marvellous work of its perfection would
have come to naught. But what a glorious
light of prayer arose in the darkness of that
night! It is not given to me, my God, to
penetrate that mystery. All I know is, that
Teresa persevered in union with Thee, and in
the intimate persuasion of her own nothingness;
that prayer was the altar on which she continually offered her whole being to Thee; that,
notwithstanding Thy seeming severity, she held
fast to Thy cross; that, with all her docility to
her directors, she persevered with unshaken
constancy in the path marked out for her by
Thee, and that this hard and rugged path ]ed
her on to the sublimest summit of perfection.
The Church needed an example like this for
a multitude of faithful souls whom God tries
by interior sufferings. They learn from S.
Teresa never to relinquish the path of prayer,
in whatever darkness it may be shrouded,
to deepen the knowledge of their nothingness
by the consciousness of their weakness; to
redouble their fervour when their heart seems
like a dry and thirsty land; and to await with
patience the visitation of the Lord. If all the
Saints had, like S. Teresa, written the history
of their lives, we should see them triumph over
these dark and stormy seasons, by the constancy
and fervour of their prayer. This was the
refuge of the great Apostle himself in his
terrible conflicts : " I besought the Lord thrice,"
he says, "and He said to me, My grace is
sufficient for thee."

O holy prayer, support of weak souls, light
of those who are seeking God in the dark, I
devote myself to thee, I take thee for my
companion, and will follow thee whithersoever
thou shalt lead me, and whatsoever difficulties
may beset my path. I will pray always,
according to the counsel of the Apostle, and
the example of S. Teresa. Holy Spirit, do
Thou pray in me, ask Thou in me; may
Thine ineffable groanings atone for my aridity,
hardness, and boldness! Keep alive in me the
love of prayer, and feed me with that celestial
bread until the day when I shall be united to
Thee eternally in heaven.

Prayer.

Most sweet Jesus, Divine Spouse of S. Teresa,
Who didst try her constancy and fidelity by
many long years of acute interior sufferings,
Who didst purify her love by veiling Thine
Own, and didst unite her more closely to Thee
by the withdrawal of Thy consolations and the
infliction of the most painful trial of dereliction,
and by the rough way of dryness and desolation didst raise her to the highest degree of
prayer; Divine Jesus, her Guide and her Master,
I beseech Thee, by this long martyrdom of
Thy faithful spouse, to sustain my weakness in
the trials and temptations of this life, to enkindle
my confidence in the midst of interior pains
and perplexities, to preserve my soul from
weariness and tepidity, to fix my imagination,
to enlighten my mind, to inflame my heart in
the holy exercise of prayer, to be Thyself my
Guide in the narrow and difficult way of salvation, and, lastly, to grant what I ask of Thee
in this Novena, if it be for the greater glory of
God. Amen.

Novena Before The Feast Of S Teresa

Fifth Day

Meditation on S. Teresa's spirit of prayer in relation
to prayer itself.

The science of prayer is not like other sciences
which require preliminary studies in some
respects foreign to their subject. We can
become learned in prayer only by prayer itself.
We all know that prayer requires the full
attention of the mind and all the affections of
the heart; but we do not all know how to
silence our imagination and to empty our heart
of every affection which does not tend to God.
We are all willing to receive consolations from
Heaven; but hardly any of us can resolve to
wait for the Lord, and to depend upon the
operations of his grace. The Holy Spirit
guided Teresa in the way of prayer, and she
was docile to His teaching. She had an exceeding love of prayer, and a determined will never
to depart from the Divine Presence, knowing
that, without that holy Presence, not only
habitual, but vivid and actual, it is impossible
to attain to intimate union with Gk)d.

I understand not, O Lord, the prayer of S.
Teresa, I know not the secrets which Thou
didst unveil to her in that holy exercise of
Thy love; it is not for me to presume to enter
that sanctuary. I am too profane to be initiated
into the sublime mysteries of the intercourse
between Thee and Thy chaste spouse; but I
see throughout the whole life of this holy lover
of Jesus, that she ever rose from prayer more
humble, more lowly in her own eyes, more
fervent in love, more devoted to the good
pleasure of God, more eager to suffer for His
glory, stronger in her holy resolutions, more
detached from her own will. I behold her
prayer as a fruitful field in which she reaped
continually the fruits of holy self-denial.

O prayer of S. Teresa, how dost thou exalt
my soul, how dost thou detach me from earth,
what glories dost thou disclose to me from the
world to come, the kingdom of Jesus Christ I
Well did that great soul comprehend the value
of detachment from all that is not God; fully
was she enlightened as to the vanity of all
earthly things! Yes, Lord, Teresa accomplished
literally those words of thine Apostle: "Our
conversation is in heaven." She lived upon earth
like the blessed dead of whom the same Apostle
says that "their life is hidden with Jesus
Christ in God." I aspire not to the sublimity
of her prayer, but I have greater need than
she to die to myself, to break at once and for
ever with the world and my own passions; and,
like Thy disciples, I say to Thee : " Lord, teach
me to pray." And do thou, great Saint, so rich
in merits gained by prayer, obtain for me the
prayer of faith and love, that I may be so
closely united to Jesus in all my actions as
never to lose sight of the Beloved of thy heart

Prayer,

Most sweet Jesus, Divine Spouse of S. Teresa,
who didst bestow on her so sublime a gift of
prayer as placed her among the Cherubim
and Seraphim, and made her so enlightened a
mistress of that science of the Saints as to be
able to point out to all who walk in the ways
of prayer, meditation, and contemplation, the
paths which they should follow each in his
several degree, â€” I beseech Thee, O Divine
Jesus, by the sublimity of her prayer, to make
me a faithful disciple of that seraphic mistress,
and to enable me to make such progress in
her school as to attain to an attentive, fervent,
and solid prayer, a prayer which may enable
me to fulfil Thy holy law, and which may obtain for me the grace which I ask in this
Novena, if it be to the greater glory of God,

Amen.

SIXTH DAY.

Meditation on S. Teresa's spirit of prayer in relation
to the virtue of faith.

If S. Teresa bad not been a child of prayer,
her faith would have been weak, and a weak
faith borders closely upon that dead faith which
leads to perdition. "He that cometh to God,"
says the Apostle, "must believe;" but it is no
less true, that to believe we must come to God.
Faith led Teresa to prayer, and prayer perfected her faith. Her whole life is made up
of faith and prayer. The lights afforded her
were sublime because her prayer was unceasing. Oh, how many lessons may we learn
from this! We are enslaved by our senses,
they separate us from God, they crash us to
the earth; prayer alone can free us, and bear
our soul to heaven. Teresa seems to have
been raised up in these latter times to console
the Church for the rebellion of her children.
She received special light upon the truths
assailed by heretics, she read them in the very
light of God, and spoke of them with an eloquence which was like the voice of God. Is
it not wonderful that a simple nun should have
written so fully upon such sublime subjects
without a word escaping her which could be
censured by the severest criticism? The most
gifted men tremble when they take these subjects
in hand, and continually fear lest they should
make a false step on so difficult a road. Teresa
was guided by prayer, and the Spirit of God
guarded her from all danger. The sublime
faith which was His gift extended not only to
the mysteries of religion, it instructed her in
all the secrets of the interior life. It taught
her what God is to a soul full of good will, and
what such a soul is to Gk)d; it unfolded to her
all the consequences of her religious profession,
all the degrees of perfection, all the various
ways in which God is pleased to guide the soul,
all the illusions which spring from self-love or
from the malice of the devil. She learned all
these lessons in prayer; prayer was the school
of faith, and faith the reward of prayer. If we
reflect upon our want of faith, we shall see that
it arises from our coldness in prayer. If we
will but give ourselves to prayer, faith will
revive in our soul, faith will control our senses,
faith will overcome our immortification; and
our judgments of the world, and all that the
world esteems, will be conformed to the judgment of Jesus, the Author of our faith. Our
conversation will bear upon it the impress and
the seal of faith; our vocal prayers, now often
so cold, so hurried, and so fruitless, will be
clothed with the intelligence of faith; holy
Scripture will become to us the food of faith,
and faith will be strengthened and preserved
by the Sacraments of the Church.

O prayer of faith! O faith nourished by
prayer! how gloriously do you shine forth in
the life of S. Teresa! When, O my God, shall
I enter on the way of prayer, that I may be
filled with the light of faith! Alas, my faith
has hitherto been dim because my prayer has
been cold. I desire to believe, my God, and
I desire to speak to Thee. ' Thy prophet separates not these two things, " I believed, and
therefore will I speak;" and Teresa's life was
filled with these alone. Give me, O Lord, the
spirit of prayer, that I may believe, and give
me faith, that I may pray.

Prayer.

Most sweet Jesus, Divine Spouse of S. Teresa,
Who gavest her so firm a faith in Thy mysteries that she believed them more confidently
than if she had seen them with her bodily
eyes, a faith so luminous that it lighted her to
walk securely in the highest paths of perfection, a faith so vivid and so burning that it
brought about the conversion of a multitude of
souls; I beseech Thee, O Divine Jesus, by
that marvellous faith by which Thou didst
vouchsafe to enlighten Thy glorious spouse,
to give me a living, enlightened, firm, and constant faith, which may subdue my heart and
mind to the teaching of our holy mother the
Church, a faith which may direct me in the
spiritual life, and which may obtain for me the
grace which I ask in this Novena, if it be for
the greater glory of God. Amen.

Novena Before The Feast Of S Teresa

Seventh Day

Meditation on S. Teresa's spirit of prayer in relation
to the virtue of hope.

The two objects of Christian hope are salvation
and the means of salvation. We are all obliged
to hope for salvation and for the means necessary
for its attainment; but it is prayer which
secures us in the way of salvation, and affords
us the means to attain it; and, of all kinds of
prayer, mental prayer is the most effectual,
because it is the exercise of the mind and
heart, and because it unites the soul to God,
the Author of salvation and of all the graces
which lead to it. It is a dangerous presumption
to hope to attain salvation without prayer; and
it is an insult to the Divine goodness, and a
distrust of the promises of our Lord, not to
entertain a rare hope of salvation with prayer.
S. Teresa's confidence was founded on prayer.
By prayer she rose superior to all creatures,
and to all the faint-hearted fears which hold
back so many souls called by God to perfection.
Her confidence rested not upon visions and
revelations, â€” gifts which may be communicated
even to the enemies of God, such as the false
prophet Balaam and the high-priest Caiphas.
Teresa's confidence rested upon a prayer which
was humble, lowly, dependent on the Spirit of
God, and animated with a single desire to serve
Him. The spirits of evil might trouble her, â€”
men might censure her, â€” events might seem to
cross her designs, â€” still she remained unshaken.
She went forth from prayer as the Apostles
from the cenacle, prepared to act, to suffer, or
to die for the glory of God. Some persons
pray, all the time distrusting prayer, or rather
distrusting God, Who has led them to pray.
They are like those imperfect Christians who
waver, according to the expression of S. James,
and are, therefore, inconstant in all their ways;
they know not how to listen to the Lord in
prayer, and this it is which leaves them in
trouble and uncertainty. Teresa excelled in
his art of listening to God, of hearing Jesus
while speaking within her after Communion;
and this is one of the most precious lessons
contained in her works. She knew that in
prayer we must speak little and listen much;
that the Spirit of God delights to teach us, and
that His lessons go home to the heart by their
divine power.

O Divine Spirit, speak Thou to my heart;
strengthen it against the fears which disturb
it: the fear of sorrow, the fear of humiliation,
the fear of poverty, the fear of sickness, the
fear of death. Prayer dispels all these fears,
because it establishes the heart in God, the
Sovereign Master of all events, Who turns them
to the greater good of those who love Him.

Prayer.

Most sweet Jesus, Divine Spouse of S. Teresa,
inspire me with the same hope and confidence
which enabled her to undertake and carry
through things which seemed impossible. In
the power of Thy Divine Spirit she founded a
multitude of houses, having no other aid or
support but Thy good Providence; amid the
hottest fires of persecution she looked confidently for success; and when the world and
hell were leagued together to overthrow her
work, she stood firm against the artifices of
the devil and the oppositions of men, yielding
neither to their unjust suspicions nor their
vain alarms. Unmoved even by the human
prudence of learned divines, Teresa pursued
the way marked out for her by the Holy Spirit; and, unshaken by the tempests which
swept across her path, her heroic heart clung
unchangeably to Thy Divine promises. I beseech Thee, my loving Jesus, by this firm hope
of" Thy faithful spouse, to grant me a like
hope of my salvation, and of the means necessary for its attainment, â€” a hope which may
inspire me to seek always the greater glory of
God without regard to the fear or favour of
men. And I beseech Thee also to grant the
petition which I make to Thee in this Novena,
if it be to Thy greater glory. Amen.

Novena Before The Feast Of S Teresa

Eighth Day

Meditation on S. Teresa's spirit of prayer in relation
to the love of God.

Prayer is at once the school and the exercise
of love. It is in meditation, as the Prophet
says, that the fire is kindled. S. Teresa was a
living victim to Divine love because her whole
life was united to God in prayer. We think
of her now in glory; and we imagine that when
on earth she led a life beyond the possibility
of our imitation. This is a great mistake.
Teresa was a simple religious, like many others;
but she was devoted to prayer in a measure
far beyond that of ordinary souls, even in religion; and it was this which had raised her to
such an exalted degree of love. Is it impossible for us to pray and to love? If God does
not enkindle in our hearts so vehement a flame
as burned in the heart of Teresa, do we place
no obstacles in the way of the Divine operations,
such as our voluntary distractions, our needless
intercourse with the world, our repugnance to
solitude? Have we learnt to listen to our
Lord in prayer? do we lose courage after a
few faint efforts to unite ourselves to Him?
Are we ready to sacrifice to Him our vanity,
our ambition, our self-love? Do we converse
with God as children with their father? Are
we simple, persevering, and hearty in our
communications with our Lord? Teresa was
not always prostrate before His Tabernacle or
before the Crucifix in her cell; she was continually in action and overwhelmed with labours; but she lived and worked in the
presence of God, and conversed with Him even
while she held intercourse with creatures.
When she received Divine illuminations, she
increased the more in humility, and in the
conviction of her own nothingness. When
she experienced interior trials, she blessed
God for His seeming severity, and her love was
strengthened by these very privations. We
admire and wonder at the multitude and singularity of the extraordinary graces which were
lavished upon her; let us rather admire her
gift of prayer, and learn that it was the way
which led her to perfect love. Let us acknowledge the unspeakable goodness of the
Lord, Who communicates Himself to the
humble and lowly, that they may learn to
pray and to love. When S. Paul was struck
down on the way to Damascus, he began
to pray, and Ananias found him praying.
Who has ever loved more fervently than
S. Paul, or written more burning words in
praise of Divine charity? Love is the life of
the soul, and prayer is the food of love. The
whole difference between Teresa and the worldling farthest from the kingdom of God is, that
Teresa nourished her soul with the food of
love by the exercise of prayer, and that the
affections of the worldling are swallowed up in
death, because they are fixed upon earthly
objects. He also loves; but his love is misplaced, because it is turned towards creatures;
he also offers aspirations, but to the demon of
ambition, to the demon of pleasure, to the
demon of wealth. O fearful illusion of misplaced love! there is nothing needed but sincere and fervent prayer to restore order to
that soul: but the worldling has no taste for
the things of God; he knows not the prayer of
the heart; he has no conception of the nature
of Teresa's communings with Jesus.

O Lord, I am but too probably in this way
of death; recall me to Thee by prayer, pierce
my heart with the dart of Thy love: it is Ml
time; and I say to Thee in all sincerity with
David, " My heart is ready, Lord; my heart
is ready."

Prayer.

Most sweet Jesus, Divine Spouse of S.
Teresa, Who didst so enkindle her with love
that she became a seraph in human form, Who
didst so wound her heart with the sharp
arrow of Thy Divine charity as to consume it
by that heavenly fire, and break the bonds
which held her captive upon earth, bearing
her soul on the wings of that most pure love
before the throne of Thy Divine Majesty; I
beseech Thee, Divine Jesus, by the love which
consumed Thy blessed Spouse, to enkindle my
heart with the same Divine fire, that it may be
offered as an acceptable holocaust to Thee,
that every moment of my life may be devoted
to Thy love, and that my last breath may be a
sigh of love to Thee. May that love hold up
my hands, and with a holy violence obtain
from Thy Divine goodness what I ask of Thee
in this Novena, if it be for the greater glory
of God, the honour of Thy spouse, and the
good of my soul. Amen.

Novena Before The Feast Of S Teresa

Ninth Day

Meditation on S. Teresa's spirit of prayer in relation
to her blessed death.

The spirit of prayer accompanied Teresa to
her last hour; for, as the Church sings in her
Office, she died rather of a transport of love
than of any bodily ailment. So close had
been her union with Jesus during life, that,
like the great Apostle, she could defy death to
separate her from His love. This thought
would suffice for my instruction and conversion; for it will be impossible to be united to
God at the moment of death unless we have
spent our life in the holy exercise of prayer.
The faculties of the soul will not then turn towards their great Object, if they have been
continually absorbed in objects of sense. The
consolation of the dying depends upon the
daily practice of prayer during life. Our Lord
then communicates Himself most abundantly
and most lovingly to the heart which has been
open to His inspirations during a long series of
years. If we would die like Teresa, we must
pray like her.

Spirit of prayer! Source of light, of peace,
and of consolation! when the world disappears
before the opening vision of eternity, when the
senses fail, and the soul breaks its bonds, â€” Thou
art its only resource, its only support, its
strength and its hope; these precious privileges
belong only to the deathbed of those who
during life have subdued their senses to Thy
sweet yoke, who have devoted all the faculties of their soul to thee, and have acquired
the blessed habit of unceasing prayer. May
prayer, then, be my nourishment and my
delight; may it unite me, as it united Teresa,
so closely to God, that neither death nor hell
may be able to separate me from Him.

Prayer.

Most sweet Jesus, Divine Spouse of S. Teresa,
whose life was an unbroken chain of extraordinary graces and favours, a continual exercise
of Thy holy presence, an intimate union with
Thine infinite greatness, a perfect sacrifice of
love, and whose death was the crowning work
of The grace, the consummation of that ineffable union, The triumph of charity, â€” I beseech
Thee, Divine Jesus, by that death so precious
in Thy sight, to enable me to walk all the days
of my life in Thy holy presence; to keep me
continually united to Thee, my only and Sovereign Good; to cast upon my cold heart some
sparks of that sacred fire which consumed the
heart of S. Teresa, that at the awful moment
when time shall be no more, and eternity shall
begin, I may have a sweet and lively hope to
enjoy Thy Divine presence, to be inebriated
with those rivers of joy of which Thou art the
Source, and to burn throughout eternity with
that heavenly fire of which that which consumed Teresa on earth was but the symbol, the
foretaste, and the pledge.

Most sweet Jesus, Divine Spouse of S. Teresa,
Thou didst give to her, as to Thy beloved
disciple, Mary for a Mother, and didst inspire
her from her very infancy with so lively and
tender a devotion to that blessed Mother as
attached her throughout life devotedly to her
service, and inspired her with a fervent zeal
for her honour. At her altars she conceived
the plan of her reform; under her auspices she
carried it out; under her mighty protection
placed her finished work; she transmitted that same devotion to Mary to her
children, and by its power she still keeps alive
amongst them the love of their holy state. I
beseech Thee, therefore, Divine Jesus, by that
tender and filial devotion of Thy Spouse to
Thy most holy Mother, to give me the same
childlike love, that I may consecrate myself to
her service; that I may be zealous for her
honour, and fervent in promoting it; that I
may labour to multiply the number of her
servants and her children, that so I may have
her for my prevailing advocate with Thee.

Blessed Virgin, I prostrate myself before
thee, and humbly beseech thee to present my
prayers to thy Divine Son. I am unworthy
to be heard. All my hope to obtain the
grace which I ask at the close of this Novena
rests upon thy all-prevailing intercession.

THE END.

The Interior Castle or The Mansions

1. Introduction

1. Preface

2. Introduction

2. The First Mansions

1. Chapter I.

2. Chapter II.

3. The Second Mansions

1. Only Chapter

4. The Third Mansions

1. Chapter I.

2. Chapter II.

5. The Fourth Mansions

1. Chapter I.

2. Chapter II.

3. Chapter III.

6. The Fifth Mansions

1. Chapter I.

2. Chapter II.

3. Chapter III.

4. Chapter IV.

7. The Sixth Mansions

1. Chapter I.

2. Chapter II.

3. Introductory Note To Chapter III.

4. Chapter III.

5. Chapter IV.

6. Chapter V.

7. Chapter VI.

8. Chapter VII.

9. Chapter VIII.

10. Chapter IX.

11. Chapter X.

12. Chapter XI.

8. The Seventh Mansions

1. Chapter I.

2. Chapter II.

3. Chapter III.

4. Chapter IV.

5. IHS

The Way of Perfection

Preface

Introduction

Translator’S Note

Protestations

Prologue

Chapter 1 - Of The Reason Which Moved Me To Found This Convent In Such Strict Observance.

Chapter 2 - Treats Of How The Necessities Of The Body Should Be Disregarded And Of The Good That Comes From Poverty.

Chapter 3 - Continues The Subject Begun In The First Chapter And Persuades The Sisters To Busy Themselves Constantly In Beseeching God To Help Those Who Work For The Church. Ends With An Exclamatory Prayer.

Chapter 4 - Exhorts The Nuns To Keep Their Rule And Names Three Things Which Are Important For The Spiritual Life. Describes The First Of These Three Things, Which Is Love Of One’S Neighbour, And Speaks Of The Harm Which Can Be Done By Individual Friendships.

Chapter 5 - Continues Speaking Of Confessors. Explains Why It Is Important That They Should Be Learned Men.

Chapter 6 - Returns To The Subject Of Perfect Love, Already Begun.

Chapter 7 - Treats Of The Same Subject Of Spiritual Love And Gives Certain Counsels For Gaining It.

Chapter 8 - Treats Of The Great Benefit Of Self-Detachment, Both Interior And Exterior, From All Things Created.

Chapter 9 - Treats Of The Great Blessing That Shunning Their Relatives Brings To Those Who Have Left The World And Shows How By Doing So They Will Find Truer Friends.

Chapter 10 - Teaches That Detachment From The Things Aforementioned Is Insufficient If We Are Not Detached From Our Own Selves And That This Virtue And Humility Go Together.

Chapter 11 - Continues To Treat Of Mortification And Describes How It May Be Attained In Times Of Sickness.

Chapter 12 - Teaches That The True Lover Of God Must Care Little For Life And Honour.

Chapter 13 - Continues To Treat Of Mortification And Explains How One Must Renounce The World’S Standards Of Wisdom In Order To Attain To True Wisdom.

Chapter 14 - Treats Of The Great Importance Of Not Professing Anyone Whose Spirit Is Contrary To The Things Aforementioned.

Chapter 15 - Treats Of The Great Advantage Which Comes From Our Not Excusing Ourselves, Even Though We Find We Are Unjustly Condemned.

Chapter 16 - Describes The Difference Between Perfection In The Lives Of Contemplatives And In The Lives Of Those Who Are Content With Mental Prayer. Explains How It Is Sometimes Possible For God To Raise A Distracted Soul To Perfect Contemplation And The Reason For This. This Chapter And That Which Comes Next Are To Be Noted Carefully.

Chapter 17 - How Not All Souls Are Fitted For Contemplation And How Some Take Long To Attain It. True Humility Will Walk Happily Along The Road By Which The Lord Leads It.

Chapter 18 - Continues The Same Subject And Shows How Much Greater Are The Trials Of Contemplatives Than Those Of Actives. This Chapter Offers Great Consolation To Actives.

Chapter 19 - Begins To Treat Of Prayer. Addresses Souls Who Cannot Reason With The Understanding.

Chapter 20 - Describes How, In One Way Or Another, We Never Lack Consolation On The Road Of Prayer. Counsels The Sisters To Include This Subject Continually In Their Conversation.

Chapter 21 - Describes The Great Importance Of Setting Out Upon The Practice Of Prayer With Firm Resolution And Of Heeding No Difficulties Put In The Way By The Devil.

Chapter 22 - Explains The Meaning Of Mental Prayer.

Chapter 23 - Describes The Importance Of Not Turning Back When One Has Set Out Upon The Way Of Prayer. Repeats How Necessary It Is To Be Resolute.

Chapter 24 - Describes How Vocal Prayer May Be Practised With Perfection And How Closely Allied It Is To Mental Prayer.

Chapter 25 - Describes The Great Gain Which Comes To A Soul When It Practises Vocal Prayer Perfectly. Shows How God May Raise It Thence To Things Supernatural.

Chapter 26 - Continues The Description Of A Method For Recollecting The Thoughts. Describes Means Of Doing This. This Chapter Is Very Profitable For Those Who Are Beginning Prayer.

Chapter 27 - Describes The Great Love Shown Us By The Lord In The First Words Of The Paternoster And The Great Importance Of Our Making No Account Of Good Birth If We Truly Desire To Be The Daughters Of God.

Chapter 28 - Describes The Nature Of The Prayer Of Recollection And Sets Down Some Of The Means By Which We Can Make It A Habit.

Chapter 29 - Continues To Describe Methods For Achieving This Prayer Of Recollection. Says What Little Account We Should Make Of Being Favoured By Our Superiors.

Chapter 30 - Describes The Importance Of Understanding What We Ask For In Prayer. Treats Of These Words In The “Hallowed Be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom Come.” Applies Them To The Prayer Of Quiet, And Begins The Explanation Of Them.

Chapter 31 - Continues The Same Subject. Explains What Is Meant By The Prayer Of Quiet. Gives Several Counsels To Those Who Experience It. This Chapter Is Very Noteworthy.

Chapter 32 - Expounds These Words Of The Paternoster: “Thy Will Be Done: As In Heaven, So On Earth.” Describes How Much Is Accomplished By Those Who Repeat These Words With Full Resolution And How Well The Lord Rewards Them For It.

Chapter 33 - Treats Of Our Great Need That The Lord Should Give Us What We Ask In These Words Of The Paternoster: “Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread.”

Chapter 34 - Continues The Same Subject. This Is Very Suitable For Reading After The Reception Of The Most Holy Sacrament.

Chapter 35 - Describes The Recollection Which Should Be Practised After Communion. Concludes This Subject With An Exclamatory Prayer To The Eternal Father.

Chapter 36 - Treats Of These Words In The Paternoster: “Forgive Us Our Debts.”

Chapter 37 - Describes The Excellence Of This Prayer Called The Paternoster, And The Many Ways In Which We Shall Find Consolation In It.

Chapter 38 - Treats Of The Great Need Which We Have To Beseech The Eternal Father To Grant Us What We Ask In These Words: “And Lead Us Not Into Temptation, But Deliver Us From Evil.” Explains Certain Temptations. This Chapter Is Noteworthy.

Chapter 39 - Continues The Same Subject And Gives Counsels Concerning Different Kinds Of Temptation. Suggests Two Remedies By Which We May Be Freed From Temptations.

Chapter 40 - Describes How, By Striving Always To Walk In The Love And Fear Of God, We Shall Travel Safely Amid All These Temptations.

Chapter 41 - Speaks Of The Fear Of God And Of How We Must Keep Ourselves From Venial Sins.

Chapter 42 - Treats Of These Last Words Of The Paternoster: “But Deliver Us From Evil. Amen.”

Contents

1. Introduction

2. St. Teresa's Arguments of the Chapters

3. Preface by David Lewis

4. Annals of the Saint's Life

5. The Life

1. Prologue

2. Chapter I

3. Chapter II

4. Chapter III

5. Chapter IV

6. Chapter V

7. Chapter VI

8. Chapter VII

9. Chapter VIII

10. Chapter IX

11. Chapter X

12. Chapter XI

13. Chapter XII

14. Chapter XIII

15. Chapter XIV

16. Chapter XV

17. Chapter XVI

18. Chapter XVII

19. Chapter XVIII

20. Chapter XIX

21. Chapter XX

22. Chapter XXI

23. Chapter XXII

24. Chapter XXIII

25. Chapter XXIV

26. Chapter XXV

27. Chapter XXVI

28. Chapter XXVII

29. Chapter XXVIII

30. Chapter XXIX

31. Chapter XXX

32. Chapter XXXI

33. Chapter XXXII

34. Chapter XXXIII

35. Chapter XXXIV

36. Chapter XXXV

37. Chapter XXXVI

38. Chapter XXXVII

39. Chapter XXXVIII

40. Chapter XXXIX

41. Chapter XL

6. The Relations or Manifestations

1. Relation I

2. Relation II

3. Relation III

4. Relation IV

5. Relation V

6. Relation VI

7. Relation VII

8. Relation VIII

9. Relation IX

10. Relation X

11. Relation XI

Contents

Introduction

Annals Of The Saint's Life

Book Of The Foundations Of S Teresa (Written By Herself)

I. PROLOGUE

II. Foundation Of Medina Del Campo.

III. How Our Father General Came To Avila, And What
Happened Upon His Coming.

IV. By What Means The Founding Of The Monastery Of St.
Joseph In Medina Del Campo Began To Be Negotiated.

V. On Certain Favours Which The Lord Bestowed On The Nuns Of
These Monasteries, And On The Manner The Prioresses Should
Conduct Themselves Towards The Sisters.

VI. Some Directions Concerning Prater.

VII. She Shows The Harm That May Happen To Spiritual Persons
By Their Not Understanding When They Should Resist The
Spirit. She Also Treats Of The Desires A Soul May Have
To Communicate, And Of The Deceit There May Be In Doing
So. Other Important Matters Are Mentioned For The Government Of The Houses.

VIII. How The Prioresses Should Conduct Themselves Towards
Those Who Are Melancholy.

IX. Some Directions On Revelations And Visions.

X. The Foundation Of St. Josephâ€™S Monastery At Malagon.

XI. Foundation Of The Monastery Of Valladolid.

XII. Continues The Relation Of The Means Taken By Dona
Casilda De Padilla To Carry Out Her Holy
Design Of Entering Religion

XIII. She Gives The Life And Death Of A Nun Named Beatriz
Of The Incarnation.

XIV. On The Foundation Of The First House Of Discalceate Friars.

XV. She Continues The History Of The Foundation Of The First
House Of Discalceate Carmelites. She Tells Something
Concerning The Life They Lead, Etc.

XVI. On The Foundation Of The Monastery Of The Glorious
St. Joseph In The City Of Toledo, In The Year 1569.

XVII. Of Certain Things That Took Place In This Convent Of S.
Joseph Of Toledo, To The Honour And Glory Of God

XVIII. The Foundation Of The Monasteries Of Friars And Of
Nuns At Pastrana, In One And The Same Year
1579, Mean 1569

XIX. Of The Foundation Of The Monastery Of S. Joseph At
Salamanca, In The Year 1570. Treats Of Some Important Counsels For Prioresses

XX. Continuation Of The Foundation Of The Monastery Of
S. Joseph In The City Of Salamanca

XXI. On The Foundation Of The Monastery Of Our Lady Of The
Annunciation, At Alba De Formes, In The Year 1571

XXII. Treats Of The Foundation Of The Glorious S.Joseph Of Carmel
At Segovia. Founded On The Feast Of S. Joseph, 1574

XXIII. Treats Of The Foundation Of The Glorious S. Joseph Del
Salvador In Veas, On The Feast Of S. Matthias, In The
Year 1575

XXIV. Treats Of The Foundation Of The Monastery Of The Glorious
S. Joseph Of Carmel In The City Of Seville. The First Mass
Said On The Feast Of The Most Holy Trinity, 1575

XXV. The Foundation Of S. Joseph Of Carmel In The City
Of Seville

XXVI. The Foundation Of The Glorious S. Joseph Of Seville
Continued. What Happened When Getting A House
Of Our Own

XXVII. Continuation Of The Same Foundation Of S. Joseph In The
City Of Seville. Relates Some Very Noteworthy Doings
Concerning The First Nun Who Entered There

XXVIII. Treats Of The Foundation In The City Of Caravaca. The
Blessed Sacrament Is Reserved On New Year'S Day Of
The Same Year 1576. It Bears The Title Of The Glorious
Saint Joseph

XXIX. The Foundation Of Villanueva De La Jara

XXX. Treats Of The Foundation Of S. Joseph Of Our Lady Of La
Calle In Palencia, On The Feast Of King David, Ln The
Year 1580

XXXI. The Foundation Of The Monastery Of The Most Holy Trinity
In Soria, In The Year 1581. The First Mass Said On
The Feast Of Our Father S. Eliseus

XXXII. In This Chapter The Foundation Of The Glorious S. Joseph
Of S. Anne In The City Of Burgos Is Begun. The First
Mass Is Said 19 April 1582, Octave Of The Feast Of The
Resurrection

The Foundation Of S Joseph's Convent At Granada

The Visitation Of The Nunneries

The Carmelite Rule

The Constitutions

Appendix I

Appendix II

Appendix III

Appendix IV

Contents

Translator's Preface.

No. I. To Philip II. King of Spain.

No. II.To the most Illustrious Lady Louisa de la Cerda, of Malagon.

No. III.To the Most Illustrious Lady Anne Henriquez, of Toro.

No. IV.To the Reverend Father Louis of Granada, of the Order of St. Dominic.

No. V. To the Reverend Father Pedro IbaÃ±ez.

No. VI. To the Reverend Father John de Jesu Roca, Carmelite, at Pastrana.

No. VII. To the Most Illustrious Don Alonzo Velasquez, bishop of Osma.1

No. VIII.To the Reverend Father Gonzalo de Avila, of the Society of Jesus.

No. IX. To the Most Illustrious Lord Don Teutonio de Braganza, afterwards Archbishop of Evora, at Salamanca.

No. X.To the Most Illustrious Lord Don Teutonio de Braganza, Archbishop of Evora.

No. XI.To SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Cepeda y Ahumada, Brother to the Saint.

No. XII.To SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother to the Saint.

No. XIII.To the Most Illustrious Lord Don Alonso Valasquez, Bishop of Osma.

No. XIV.To the Most Illustrious Lord Don Alvaro de Mendoza, Bishop of Avila, at Olmedo.

No. XV.To the Most Illustrious Lord, Don Alvaro de Mendoza, Bishop of Avila.

No. XVI.To the most Illustrious Lord, Don Sancho D'Avila, afterwards Bishop of Jaen.

No. XVII.To the Very Illustrious Lord, Don Sancho D'Avila.

No. XVIII.To the Very Reverend Father, Fray Juan Bautista Rubeo de Ravena, General of the Order of our Lady of Mount Carmel.

No. XIX.To the Very Reverend Father Domingo BaÃ±ez, of the Order of St. Dominic.

No. XX.To the very Reverend Father Prior of the Carthusian Monastery at Seville.

No. XXI.To the Reverend Father Rodrigo Alvarez, of the Society of Jesus.

No. XXII.To the Reverend Father Provincial of the Society of Jesus, in the Province of Castile.

No. XXIII.To the Reverend Father Gonzalo de Avila, of the Society of Jesus.

No. XXIV.To the Reverend Father Geronimo Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

No. XXV.To the Reverend Geronimo Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

No. XXVI.To the Reverend Father Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

No. XXVII.To the Reverend Father Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

No. XXVIII. To the Reverend Father Gracian, de la Madre de Dios.

No. XXIX.To the Reverend Father Ambrosio Mariano, of St. Benedict, Carmelite.

No. XXX.To SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother to the Saint.

No. XXXI.To SeÃ±or Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother of the Saint.

No. XXXII.To Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother of the Saint.

No. XXXIII. To Lorenzo de Cepeda, Brother of the Saint.

No. XXXIV.To Don Diego de Guzman y Cepeda.

No. XXXV. To a person who was afflicted at the death of his wife.

No. XXXVI. To Diego Ortiz, Citizen of Toledo.

No. XXXVII. To Alonzo Ramirez, Citizen of Toledo.

No. XXXVIII. To DoÃ±a Isabel Ximena, at Segovia.

PART II.

No. XXXIX. To Mother Catherine
de Christo, Prioress of the Discalced Carmelites of the Convent of the
Most Holy Trinity at Soria, and to the Religious of the said House.

No. XL. To Mother Catherine de Christo, Prioress of the Carmelites at Soria.

No. XLI. To Sister Leonor de la Misericordia, Carmelite in the Convent of the Most Holy Trinity at Soria.

No. XLII. To Sister Teresa de Jesus, Carmelite in St. Joseph's Convent at Avila.

No. XLIII.To Mother Maria
Bautista, Prioress of the Discalced Carmelites belonging to the Convent
of the Immaculate Conception at Valladolid.

No. XLIV. To Mother Maria Bautista, Prioress of the Carmelites at Valladolid.

No. XLV. To the Mother Prioress of the Carmelites at Malagon.

No. XLVI. To the Mother-Prioress and Religious of the Convent of St. Joseph del Salvador, at Veas.

No. XLVII. To the Carmelites of St. Joseph's Convent at Seville.

No. XLVIII. To the Carmelites of St. Joseph's Convent at Seville.

No. XLIX. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of St. Joseph's Convent at Seville.

No. L. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LI. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LII.To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LIII.To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LIVTo Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LV. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LVI. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LVII. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville

No. LVIII. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LIX. To Mother Maria de San Joseph, Prioress of Seville.

No. LX. To the Mother Prioress and Religious of the Convent of St. Joseph at Granada.

APPENDIX.I.
Advices which the Holy Mother Teresa de Jesus gave to her Children during her life.

APPENDIX II.

APPENDIX III.

APPENDIX IV.

APPENDIX V.

Conceptions of the Love of God, Exclamations, Maxims and Poems

Preface

I. Dedication

II. From The Address By His Holiness Pope Leo XIII.

III. Introduction.

Poems

I. Poem 1.: Self-Oblation.

II. Poem 2. : The Soul'S Desire.

III. Poem 3. : The Soul'S Desire. (Second Version)

IV. Poem 4.: The Soul'S Exile.

V. Poem 5.: Self-Surrender.

VI. Poem 6.: Divine Beauty.

VII. Poem 7.: The Compact

VIII. Poem 8. : On The Transverberation Of The Saint'S Heart.

IX. Poem 9.: Aspirations.

X. Poem 10. : Soul, Thou Must Seek Thyself In Me, And Seek For Me In Thee."

XI. Poem 11.: The Dying Saint To Her Crucifix.

XII. Poem 12.: Nuns Of Carmel.

XIII. Poem 13.: The Wise Virgin. Written For The Veiling Of Sister Isabel Of The Angels.

XIV. Poem 14. : The Refrain Of A Song For A Clothing.

XV. Poem 15.: The Holocaust.

XVI. Poem 16.: The Bride Of Christ.

XVII. Poem 17.: The Shepherd'S Bridals.

XVIII. Poem 18.: The Cloister.

XIX. Poem 19.: The Standard Of The Holy Cross.

XX. Poem 20. : Greeting To The Cross.

XXI. Poem 21. : Processional For The Feast Of The Holy Cross.

XXII. Poem 22.: The Lamb Of God.

XXIII. Poem 23.: The Angels' Summons To The Shepherds.

XXIV. Poem 24. : The Shepherds At The Crib.

XXV. Poem 25. : Christmas Day.

XXVI. Poem 26. : The Shepherds' Carol For The Circumcision.

XXVII. Poem 27.: Shepherds' Carol For The Circumcision.

XXVIII. Poem 28.: The Shepherd And The Three Kings.

XXIX. Poem 29.: A Poem To St. Andrew.

XXX. Poem 30.: To Saint Catherine The Martyr.

XXXI. Poem 31.: Saint Hilarion.

XXXII. Poem 32. : Rhymed Maxims.

XXXIII. Poem 33.: Saint Teresa'S Bookmark.

XXXIV. Poem 34.: The Soul'S Detachment.

XXXV. Poem 35. : Sonnet To Jesus Crucified.

XXXVI. Poem 36.: Before The Crucifix.

XXXVII. Prayer Of St. Teresa.

XXXVIII. Notes On The Poems.

Exclamations, Or Meditations Of The Soul On Its God

I. Exclamation I.

II. Exclamation II.

III. Exclamation III.

IV. Exclamation IV.

V. Exclamation V.

VI. Exclamation VI.

VII. Exclamation VII.

VIII. Exclamation VIII.

IX. Exclamation IX.

X. Exclamation X.

XI. Exclamation XI.

XII. Exclamation XII.

XIII. Exclamation XIII.

XIV. Exclamation XIV.

XV. Exclamation XV.

XVI. Exclamation XVI.

Conceptions Of The Love Of God On Some Verses Of The Canticle

I. Introduction

II. Chapter I.

III. Chapter II

IV. Chapter III.

V. Chapter IV.

VI. Chapter V.

VII. Chapter VI.

VIII. Chapter VII.

Maxims Of St Teresa

Miscellaneous

I. Papers Found In St. Teresa's Breviary.

II. The Last Days Of Saint Teresa.

III. Saint Teresa's Manifestations After Death.

IV. Additional Maxims

V. Canonisation Of Saint Teresa

VI. Bull Of Gregory XV. For The Canonisation Of St. Teresa.

Contents

1. PART ONE - Necessity of Trials and Combats

2. PART TWO - Humble Spirit of Prayer

3. PART THREE - Complete Detachment From the World

Contents

Preface

Part I - Exclamations Of The Soul To God

I. Complaints of the soul at its separation from God during this life.

II. How the soul which loves God is divided between the desire of enjoying Him and the obligation of assisting her neighbour

III. Thoughts of the Saint on the consideration of her sins, and of the mercy of God.

IV. Prayer that God would enable the Saint to. recover the time which she had not spent in loving and serving Him.

V. Of the complaint of Martha, and how a soul which loves Goa may complain to Him of her misery.

VI. How painful is this life to a soul which longs ardently for God.

VII. The exceeding goodness of God, Whose delight is to be with the children of men.

VIII. Prayer for sinners who are so blind that they do not desire to see.

IX. Prayer that God would deliver by His grace those who feel not their own misery, and seek not to be delivered from it.

X. How small is the number of the true servants of Godâ€” Prayer for those hardened souls who refuse to arise from the death of sin.

XI. Fearful state of a soul which, at the moment of death, hears the sentence of her eternal condemnation.

XII. How cowardly men are in the service of God, how fearless in offending Him.

XIII. Of the happiness of the Saints in heaven, and of the impatience of men who choose rather to enjoy for a moment the false pleasures of this life than to wait for the true and eternal joys of heaven.

XIV. How sweet will be the countenance of out Lord Jesus Christ at the last judgment to the good, and how terrible to the wicked.

XV. The consolation of the soul under the weariness of her long exile.

XVI. That God alone can give relief to the soul which He has wounded with His love.

XVII. That we know not what to ask of God â€” Ardent desires to leave this world, in order to enjoy perfect liberty, which consists in freedom from the possibility of sinning.

Part II - Directions On Prayer And On The Life Of Prayer

I. Motives of S. Teresa for the establishment of her reform.

II. The true nature of union with God.

III. The love of Godâ€” Its signs and its benefits.

IV. The way of perfection is sweeter than men suppose.

V. Great benefit of courage in the service of God.

VI. Various ways of deceiving ourselves.

VII. On the contempt of worldly honour.

VIII. little attachments, great hindrances in the way of perfection.

IX. Persons farthest advanced in grace ought to live in continual fear of falling.

X. Grievous nature of deliberate venial sins.

XI. Confidence in the goodness and power of God, and contempt which we ought to feel for the devil.

XII. On forgiveness of injuries, after the example of our Divine Lord.

XIII. Vain excuses of lukewarm religious.

XIV. Prayer against the desire of human approbation.

XV. God will never fail us if we fail not ourselves.

XVI. Necessity of interior mortification.

XVII. Difference between true and false humility.

XVIII. Various kinds of false peace.

XIX. On a constrained and narrow spirit of devotion.

XX. Sufferings of those who are divided between God and the world, and how much it concerns them not to abandon the practice of mental prayer.

XXI. Means to preserve recollection in prayer.

XXII. Answer to objections against mental prayer.

XXIII. True vocal prayer always involves mental prayer.

XXIV. Prayer of recollection â€” The contemplation of God as within us.

XXV. Importance of the thanksgiving after Holy Communion.

XXVI. Marvellous effects of Holy Communion

XXVII. Benefit of devotion to S. Joseph.

XXVIII. Spiritual love of perfect souls for God, and for those -who assist them in the way to heaven â€” The kind of lore which they bear to creatures.

XXIX. We should not complain of slight indispositions, nor give way to excessive fear of death.

XXX. The danger of thinking that we have virtues which we do not really possess.

XXXI. Duty of nuns to pray for ecclesiastics and religions who are labouring in the world â€” Prayer of S. Teresa.

XXXII. Error of those authors who forbid the contemplation of our Lord's Humanity.

XXXIII. Temptation which often assails a soul which has renounced sin in its endeavours to unite itself more perfectly to God in prayer.

XXXIV. Aridities in prayer ought neither to astonish nor discourage us.

XXXV. Action, or the service of God, ought to be the end of contemplation.

XXXVI. That without the gift of contemplation we may attain to perfection.

XXXVII. Maxims addressed by the Saint to her religious.

Novena Before The Feast Of S Teresa

I. Preparatory Prayer

II. First Day

III. Second Day

IV. Third Day

V. Fourth Day

VI. Fifth Day

VII. Seventh Day

VIII. Eighth Day

IX. Ninth Day