CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF Nijcon Griffis _ The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://archive.org/details/cu31924029449893 Liie oi Saint Teresa 9^ WRITTEN BY HERSELF Translatea from tne Spanisn oy Tne Rev. Jonn Dalton PuDiisned. witn tne Approbation of tne Most Rev. Bisnop of Pnilaaeipnia p. J. KENEDY & SONS Putlisliers New York ..^ H /'y//V Printed in the United States of America PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. The Life of St. Teresa, written by herself, is now, for the first time, presented in the English language to the American readers. The preface by the translator. Rev. John Dalton, of London, and which is here given, leaves but little to be said by the American publisher. Among the lives of so many eminent serv- ants of God, few have been autobiographies. St. Augustine, perhaps alone, in his confessions, has preceded St. Teresa. This difference, how- ever, exists between those holy writers, that whilst the great Bishop of Hippo has left us his Confessions, as a testimony of God's won- derful mercies towards himself, the blessed Teresa wrote her life in obedience to the com- mands of her confessor, and to explain the marvels of God's providence in her regard. If the sixteenth century was marked by the fearful heresies of Luther, Calvin, Munzer, John of Leyden, and so many others, whose • « • 111 IV PBEFAOE. shoreless doctrines inundated society with so many evils — during that very period, the church seemed more than ordinarily fruitful with holy and learned men, and institutions of the most beneficial character sprang up in every direc- tion. In that eventful century, arose the in- stitute of St. Ignatius, giving to the church her brightest, and most learned children, the Jesuits. Then were seen in England, Sir Thomas Moore, Bishop Fisher, and Cardinal Pole. In Italy, St. Charles Borromeo, St. Philip Neri, and Leo the Tenth, the patron of learning, and the fine arts. Whilst Spain gave to the church the great Ximenes, Sts. Ignatius, and Zavier, Borgio, St. John of the Cross, and the no less wonderful St. Teresa, Seldom is the holy recluse an interesting writer, or a pleasing author. Those virtues which withdraw one from the world, and forbid its enjoyments, seem not always the best cal- culated to form literary habits. St. Teresa, however, affords an exception. Her writings evidence talents of a high order, and her numerous letters attest a command of feeling and expressions not only interesting, but in- structive. Her great power, however, lay in her wonderful capacity for prayer, and the PREFACE. facility with which she explains its gradation and efficacy. We must not expect, in a work of this ex- alted character, in which the mysterious dealings of God with his Saints are so familiarly treated, to be able to understand or fully appreciate her sublime, and, at times, supernatural language ; but we can admire her piety and humility, and learn to adore the providence of that God whose wonders and mercies are so great. Her con- stitution, naturally weak, and her body so taxed by physical suffering, still endured beyond the ordinary range of human life. This great servant of God lived sixty-seven years, forty- seven of which she spent in the severest exercises of penitence and prayer. Her long and severely exercised life in the service of her God, should tend to correct that over- weening anxiety on the part of so many modern Christians, that will not suffer the slightest en- croachment upon those gratifications which are now deemed so lawful by a deceitful world. J. P. D. TO THE MOST EMINENT AND MOST REVEREND NICHOLAS, CARDINAL OF THE HOLY ROMAN CHURCH, ARCHBISHOP OF WESTMINSTER, &o. My Lord Cardinal Archbishop, — Your kindness in allowing me the honor of dedicating this translation to your Eminence, calls for the expression of my sincere gratitude. It seems fitting that a translation of St. Teresa's Life should, in some way, have the approba- tion of your Eminence, who was born in the same noble and Catholic land that gave birth to the Saint, whose wondrous Life is now presented to the public. Seville was one of the cities in which St. Teresa founded one of her convents, where, no doubt, the spirit of the holy Foundress still lives among her loving and devoted Daughters. And your Eminence can well testify how, in spite of wars, revolutions, and the insidious attacks of infidelity. Religion has still maintained her ground ^ while, in the midst of the deepest poverty, and of innumerable snares and temptations, the bishops, clergy, and Religious, have exhibited to the world models of the most enduring patience, and of the most exalted virtues. Deeply, too, has Spain sympathized with our late afflic- tions and persecutions, and with your Eminence in particular, for all the insults and calumnies which you have had to vu VUl DEDICATION. endure, but which have been borne with such fortitude and meekness. And just as days of joy and gladness are now begin- ning to dawn upon Spain, even so do we rejoice that your Eminence has lived to see the long-wished-for day, when our own beloved Land has at length been restored to her ancient and sacred Hierarchy, which we are confident no ** penal Laws" will ever be able again to overthrow. May St. Teresa, whose noble soul so often sighed for the conversion of heretical lands, intercede for our own dis- tracted country^ so long separated from the See of Peter. May she intercede for your Eminence also, that length of days may be granted you to labor amongst us, with fruit a hundred fold. I have the honor to be, my Lord Cardinal, your Eminence's most humble and respectful Servant, JOHN DALTON. CONTENTS. Page. CHA.PTER I. The Saint mentions how our Lord began to excite her soul, in her childhood, to virtuous actions, and what great help her pious parents were to h M-, ...... 47 CHAPTER II. She relates how she began to be fond of reading romances, and how necessary it is for youth to keep good company, . 50 CHAPTER III. She mentions how good company was the means of re-awaken- ing virtuous desires within her, and how our Lord began to give her light to discover her errors, .... 55 CHAPTER IV. She relates how our Lord assisted her in forcing herself to take the religious habit, and with how many infirmities His Divine Majesty began to afflict her, ...... 59 CHAPTER V. She continues to relate the painful infirmities she endured, and the patience our Lord gave her, etc., .... 66 CHAPTER VI. She mentions how much she owed our Lord for giving her conformity to His will in such great afflictions ; and how she also chose the glorious St. Joseph for her patron, etc., . 73 CHAPTER VII. She shows by what degrees she went on losing the favors which our Lord had shown her, and how wicked her life began to be, 79 CHAPTER VIIL She mentions what great good her soul received by not having > ' entirely given up her method of prayer ; also, what an excel- lent remedy prayer is for gaining what we have lost, . 92 CHAPTER IX. She declares by what means our Lord began to awaken her soul, and to enlighten her in such great darkness, ... 99 CHAPTER X. The Saint begins to mention the favors our Lord bestowed upon her in prayer, and she speaks of the manner in which we may help ourselves, etc., . . .... 104 X CONTENTS, Page. CHAPTER XI. She declares in what the fault consists of not loving God with perfection in a short time ; this she begins to declare by a comparison, containing four degrees of prayer, . . 110 CHAPTER XII. The Saint continues her discourse on the first degree of prayer, 119 CHAPTER XIII. She continues the first degree of prayer, and gives advice against certain temptations, which are sometimes brought on by the devil, ......... 123 CHAPTER XIV. The Saint begins to explain the second degree of prayer, . 134 CHAPTER XV. She continues the same subject, and gives some advice how persons are to act in the prayer of quiet, etc., . . 140 CHAPTER XVI. The Saint speaks on the third degree of prayer, • . 149 CHAPTER XVII. She continues the same subject, on the third degree of prayer, etc., 154 CHAPTER XVni. The Saint speaks on the fourth degree of prayer, . . 169 CHAPTER XIX. The Saint begins to declare the effects which this degree of prayer produces in the soul, etc., ..... 167 CHAPTER XX. The Saint treats of the difference which exists between union and rapture, etc., 176 CHAPTER XXI. The Saint continues and finishes this last degree of prayer, 190 CHAPTER XXII. The Saint shows how secure a way it is for those who give them- selves to contemplation, not to raise their minds to high things unless our Lord raise them himself, and how the hu- taanity of Christ may serve as a means of reaching the high- est degree of contemplation, .... . 196 CONTENTS. XL Pago. CHAPTER XXIII. The Saint resumes the history of her life, and tells us how she . began to aim at greater perfection, and the means she em- ployed for this purpose, 207 CHAPTER XXIV. The Saint continues the history of her life, and tells us how her soul was improved after she began to obey her confessor, 216 CHAPTER XXV. She treats of the way how those words and speeches are to be understood, which God communicates to the soul without any Toice or sound being heard, .... . . 220 CHAPTER XXVI. The same subject is continued. The Saint mentions many things which happened to her, .... . 282 CHAPTER XXVII. The Saint mentions another way by which our Lord instructs a soul, and makes her understand His will. She speaks also of a wonderful vision she had, etc. .... 286 CHAPTER XXVIII. The Saint speaks of the great favors our Lord bestowed upon her, and how he appeared to her for the first time, . 247 CHAPTER XXIX. The Saint continues the same subject, and mentions certain great favors which our Lord showed her, and what He said to comfort and console her, etc., ..... 257 CHAPTER XXX. She resumes the history of her life, and mentions how our Lord remedied many of her troubles by means of St. Peter of Al- cantara, etc., .....*.. 265 CHAPTER XXXI. She treats of certain exterior temptations and representations of the devil, etc., 277 CHAPTER XXXn. The Saint mentions how our Lord was pleased to show her, in spirit, the place which had been prepared for her in hell, and which she had deserved by her sins, .... 290 CHAPTER XXXIII. > The Saint continues the history of the foundation of St. Jo- seph's Monastery, etc., ... . . 299 XII CONTENTS Page. CHAPTER XXXIV. She mentions how she was obliged to leave Avila, and the rea- son thereof, being commanded to go by her superior to com- fort a lady there, who was much afflicted, . . . 308 CHAPTER XXXV. The Saint continues the history of the foundation of St. Jo- seph's Monastery, etc., ....... 319 CHAPTER XXXVI. The Saint, continuing the same subject, informs us how the Monastery of St. Joseph was at last founded, . . 326 CHAPTER XXXVII. The Saint mentions the great benefit she received from other heavenly favors. — Many particulars are given respecting her ecstasies and revelations, .... . 341 CHAPTER XXXVIII. The Saint mentions some great favors which our Lord was pleased to show her, in acquainting her with certain secrets of Heaven, and by giving her visions and revelations, etc., 348 CHAPTER XXXIX. The Saint gives an account of other miraculous graces and sub- lime visions with which she was favored by our Lord, . 362 CHAPTER XL. The Saint continues the same discourse, and relates some more of the great favors our Lord showed her ; she then finishes the account of her life, .....», 876 APPENDIX. I. Historical notice of Sir Tobie Mathews, Knt. II. Notice of Mr. Abraham Woodhead, III. Canonizatio Sanctse Theresiae Virginis, IV. Hymn of Saint Teresa, V. Canticle of Saint Teresa after Communion, VI. Letter to Father Pedro Ibanez, 387 394 407 419 426 430 PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. It is with an numble dijQ&dence, united with a sincere desire to make the works of the glorious St. Teresa more and more known in this country, that I now present the public with a Second edition of the Saint's Life written by herself. To some persons, whose judgment demands respect, the translation of such a life into English may appear quite un- called-for. " How few," it may be said, " can understand it ! It is too dry, too extraordinary, too mystical for the generality of readers. It may do a great deal of harm to some persons. We want something more simple, practicable, and intelligible." Such is the substance (ff the objections which I have sometimes heard urged against St. Teresa's Life. This is not now the place to answer them, though how far the translation of such and such lives of the saints may or may not be desirable, is certainly a subject which requires much consideration. Every one is entitled to hold and maintain his own opinion on the matter. In my humble judgment, I consider — at least I earnestly hope — that the translation of St. Teresa's life will do a great deal more good 1o many souls than harm. This Second Edition being called for by the public, shows an increasing desire to become acquainted with the means whereby she arrived at mich a height of perfection. Those means are within tho reach of all, when aided by God's powerful grace. St. Teresa was no enthusiast. Amidst all her visions and rap- tures — (which she never desired or sought after) — she perpetually and emphatically inculcated humility, poverty, obedience, mortification, cheerfulness, purity, resignation to 2 13 14 PREFACE. the Divine will, and an ardent love of God, &c. Her judg- ment and common sense were wonderful. Earnestly du I hope, then, that my readers may derive profit and delight from the perusal of this wondrous life. The works of St. Teresa, we all know, are highly prized and extensively read in Catholic countries. Year after yeai they are becoming more and more dear to every devout soul. And here 1 cannot too strongly recommend the new French translation of the saint's works, lately undertaken by the Rev. Father Bouix, of the Society of Jesus.* It is certainly most admirable. The good father visited all those places in Spain that are consecrated by St. Teresa ; and above all, he had the happiness of inspecting the autograph manuscripts of the Saint's writings, and of comparing the printed editions with them. The notes in the body of the translation are exceedingly valuable and interesting. To have embodied only a part of them in the present volume was found impossible, without au the same time increasing the price of the work, which the publisher did not wish to risk. I trust D'Andilly's Jansenistical translation will now be superseded altogether by that of Father Bouix's. JOHN DALTON. * Pour volumes have already appeared — " The Life," " The Founda- tions/' The " Way of Perfection,*' and " The Letters," PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION, To many it may seem presumption in mz to have attempted a translation of the Life of St. Teresa. I candidly acknowl- edge that I myself have had the same opinion, for I know nothing whatever about " Mystical Theology ;" and though I have read several writers on the subject, such as Scaramelli, Cardinal Bona, St. John of the Cross, Father Eaker, the Life of Balthasar Alvarez, &c. ; yet I must confess, that after all, I have very imperfect notions pf the matter. " How then," J often asked myself, " can you venture to translate a Life which is so difficult, so sublime, so extraordinary, so different from the ordinary lives of the saints ? " Such were my thoughts ; and so far did they prevail on me, that I often resolved to abandon the intention of translating the Life, hoping that some one else, more competent than myself, might, perhaps, sooner or later, undertake the work. Still, with all my diffidence, I felt a secret desire not to abandon the intention altogether ; and I was encouraged therein, by the very kind manner in which both Bishop Wareing and Bishop Ullathorne, as well as several priests, whose judgment I valued, spoke of my intention to give a translation of the Saint's Life. I accordingly commenced, and was highly delighted with the novelty of the undertaking. The edifying and interest- ing account the Saint gives of her early years, and of the means employed by God gradually to draw her from the vanities of the world, quite enchanted me, especially as the first ten Chapters are so very easy to translate. But when I was led into the inmost sanctuary of the Saint, and heard words uttered, " Arcana verba, quae non licet homini loqui ;" 16 16 PREFACE. secret words, which it is not granted to man to utter ; when visions, and raptures, and divine colloquies, and all the wonders of the supernatural life came before me, and were related in abstruse words, and in a language I had never been accustomed to, theia I was indeed strongly tempted to stop : and yet I did not. And v/hy not 1 Because, in spite of the many difficulties I met with, there was a something so charming, though so sublime, in the Saint's narration ; the heroic sentiments with which her Life abounds ; the heavenly virtues of obedience, mortification, humility, self-denial, and divine love, which the Saint inculcates in almost every page ; the admirable rules she lays down for the guidance of souls in the way of perfection : the excellent maxims of a spiritual life, which her holy mouth so frequently uttered ; these, and many other advantages, induced me to persevere. I could not resist the attractions by which I was surrounded. But many imagme there is nothing "practical" in the Life of St. Teresa, or in any of her other works ; that it is next to impossible to understand her account of the different degrees of supernatural prayer, to which she was raised ; that being continually absorbed in the contemplation of Him whom her soul loved, she wings her flight too high for ordinary mortals to follow ; that she hardly speaks of anything but visions and raptures ; and hence, that her works are useful and intelligible only to persons who have attained an eminent spirit of prayer, and of these there must be a very small number, even in religious communities.* Such are some of the prejudices and objections which we sometimes hear urged, and which we know are entertained by many against the works of St. Teresa : but nothing can be more unfounded and erroneous J(^ There is hardly any modern saint who displays more solid judgment and common sense than St. Teresay^ She is eminently practical. She is all for action, "^either to die or to suffer," w_ere J-^, ^'.uhlfl .TY/^^^ ! ^re a.lwa ys on herl^ s. ^* vo you see Teresa of Jesus ? " exclaimed ii'. Balftiasar Alvarez, " what sublime graces has * See these objections refuted in "L'Esprit de Sainto Therese," par M. Emery, (Pref. xii.) PREFACE. 17 she not received of God, and yet she is like the most tracta- ble little child, with regard to everything I can say to her !" To speak here of her practical piety, and of those virtues which every one may imitate by the Divine assistance, would be too tedious. Those who have not the opportunity of reading the high eulogium passed upon her by Ribera, Yepes, Palafox, Villefore, Boucher, the Venerable John of Avila, S. Antonio,* and the learned writers of the last mag- nificent volume of the Bollandists, may form some idea of those virtues which adorned her soul, from the interesting life our own Alban Butler has written of her. Father Faber very justly says, " That she represents the common sense, the discreet enthusiasm of devotion, and the interior life which distinguishes Catholic asceticism and the mysticism of the saints from the fanatical vagaries of the heretics.^f As to the works of the saint, let us bear the illustrious Bishop Milner speak : . ..." I will venture to assert, that as far as we can pronounce on the opinion of the Church, where no formal decision has taken place, there are, perhaps, no writings that have been more pointedly or more strongly ap- proved of by this unerring judgment, than those of St. Teresa. Her spirit of prayer, and the character of her ascetical works, were not only examined and approved of by the most eminent divines of the age, but also by a constel- lation of her holy contemporaries, such as St. F. Borgia, St. Peter of Alcantara, St. John of the Cross, and St. Lewis Ber- trand, who were the best, because they were experimental judges of the excellency of her ' heavenly doctrine,' J for so it is styled by the Church in the prayer inserted in her public Uturgy, after a second examination of our Saint's spirit and writings had taken place,"§ &c. Diego de Yepes says of her works : " That they are written with such simplicity and sublimity, with such sweetness and * "Vita di Santa Teresa." {Roma, 1837.) This life of the Saint is very valuable, and ably drawn up. f Preface to "Catholic Hymns." {BuruB, 1849.)' J " Coelestis ejus doctrinae pabolo nutriamur," Ac. d Preface to the translation of St. Teresa's "Exclamations." (London, 1790.) ^ 2* 18 PREFACE. beauty of style ; and that what she says penerates the heart so easily, that it is evident she learnt her doctrine from Heaven, and wrote her works by the particular assistance of the Holy Spirit.'^ This testimony is confirmed by St. Teresa herself in many passages which I might quote ; one, however, will be sufl&cient : — '< As our Lord said to me on one occasion, that many of the things I have mentioned here were not my own invention, but that He, my heavenly Master, told them to me." Lewis de Leon, to whom the Saint's works Imd been given for examination, and who was a very learned and prudent Father of the Order of St. Dominic, thus speaks of them, in a letter addressed to the Carmelite Nuns of Madrid : " I never saw nor knew the Blessed Mother Teresa of Jesus, while she lived in this world ; but now, when she lives in Heaven, I know her, and do in reality see her continually in two living images of herself, which she left amongst us, viz., her daughters and her books," &c. How highly does St. Francis of Sales speak of our glo- rious Saint, in the preface to his treatise on the " Love of God." Bishop Palafox, in a letter to F. Didacus, uses the following remarkable words : " I never knew a person who was devout to St. Teresa, that did not become a spiritual man ; nor did I ever know a spiritual man who read her works, that did not become more spiritual, and most devoted to the Saint." S. Antonio, in the fourth volume of his Life of St. Teresa, gives many proofs of the great advantage the works of the Saint are to the faithful. But it would be superfluous to enter into more details on this part of the subject. Every one knows that St. Teresa's works, and especially her Life, have always been eagerly sought after by the learned and devout, not only among Catholics, but also among Protestants. The many editions which have appeared in Spanish and French prove this truth. I had at first intended to say something (in this Preface) by way of explanation, respecting those sublime degrees of supernatural prayer to which our Lord was pleased to raise St Teresa. But when I attempted to clothe my imperfect ideas in words, I found how incompetent I was for such a PREFACE, 1^ task. Being immediately convinced of my utter inability to do justice to the subject, I wrote to one of our beloved bishops, who I am sure is quite competent to write a valuable treatise on Mental prater ; but he declined, through want of time. No other alternative, therefore, was left, but to give, in a few words, the substance of what St. Teresa herself has said on prayer, and to refer the reader to some staudard works on the subject. St. Teresa commences, in the tenth Chapter of her Life, to speak of prayer. She says that she began to consider Christ as present in her soul, in the same manner as she had been accustomed to do after communion. From the twentieth year after she had first applied herself to this exercise, she made little use of interior discoursing or reasoning, to inflame her affections, for the intuitive consider- ation of any object immediately excited in her soul the mos* ardent acts of divine love, praise, thanksgiving, and com- punction. The tenderness of her love, and the deep sense of her own sins and miseries,* constituted her prayer, without her being obliged to have recourse to studied words, or to long reflections in her meditations. " This prayer suspends the soul," she says, " in such a way, that she seems to be wholly out of herself. The will is in the act of loving ; the memory seems to be in a manner lost, and the under- standing reasons not." The Saint distinguishes four degrees of Mental prayer, comprising the prayer of Quiet, and that of Union. In the former, she represents a soul so perfectly shut up within herself, as to receive no impressions from without, the avenues of the senses and imagination, by which external objects press upon her, being at that time stopped, so that she then converses entirely with God alone. "He who begins this way of prayer (says our Saint, chap, xi.) must imagine that he is beginning to make a garden, for the pleasure aud delight of his Lord, though it may be in a very unfruitful soil, full of weeds. It is His Majesty who must now be pleased to plant good herbs, and root up the bad ones But, by the help of our Lord, we also must •=^- Though St. Teresa represents herself, through her most wonderful humility, as the most hase and wicked of creatures, yet all her confessors declared that she nerer committed a mortal sin. 20 PREFACE. be careful, like attentive gardeners, in seeing that these good herbs which are planted may grow, and we must not forger, to water them, that so they may not wither, but bring forth sweet-smelling flowers, which may give delight to our Lord, and induce Him often to come into this garden, and regale Himself with the virtues of our soul," &c. She men- tions how these plants may be watered in four ways: 1. By drawing water out of a well. 2. By means of a wheel, with little buckets attached to it. 3. Or, by turning a small stream into the garden . and, lastly, the garden is watered when a good shower of rain falls upon it, for then our Lord Himself waters it, without any labor at all of ours. The Saint explains, (in the eleventh Chapter, > these four ways more fully, to which I refer the reader. In the twelfth Chapter, she says: " In Mystical Theology, the understanding ceases from working, because God sus- pends it, as I will explain afterwards, if I be able," &c. By the term " suspends," the Saint means, that God repre* sents to the intellect supernatural things in so clear a light, that the soul sees them by an intuitive view, without dis- coursing or reasoning upon them ; and this, too, so strongly, that she is not able to turn her attentiou to any other object. But this operation is not confined to the intellect alone ; it passes on to the will also, and inflames it. The understand- ing becomes strongly fixed on the object which it sees, and is astonished at the clear sight it obtains. The Saint calls this suspension " supernatural," because in it the soul is passive much more than active, though she may at the same time produce acts of adoration, praise, and thanksgiving. The Saint tells us, that we must not desire these suspensions, nor use any efforts to obtain them, " because the devil may bring some illusion upon us." (Chapter xii.) In the thirteenth Chapter, she continues the explanation of the first degree, and gives excellent advice against certain temptations. "His Majesty," she says, "is a very great Wend of courageous souls, provided they proceed with humility, and not with any confidence in themselves." Be- ginners, the Saint remarks, particularly require a learned and experienced director , ** for I have met with certain souls, i»R£FAOE. 21 who have been afflicted and dejected, because he who had the instruction of them wanted experience, and I was very sorry for them." Again, she remarks a little further on -' *' I consider that a person who exercises prayer, and consults learned men, will never be deceived by illusions of the devil, if he have not a mind to deceive himself. I believe that the devil is greatly afraid of learning, whenever it is accompanied with humility, for he knows that he will be di*3Covered in the end," &c. In the fourteenth and fifteenth Chapters, the Saint ex- plains still more at length the prayer of Quiet or Recollec- tion, " which is easily perceived by the peace and satisfac- tion which is felt, accompanied with very great contentment and calmness of the powers, and with the sweetest delight." In Chapter the eighteenth, she begins to speak of the prayer of Union. It would be too long to give here even the sub- stance of what the Saint says on this sublime degree. Alban Butler has a very excellent note on this prayer of Union, which I will take the liberty of quoting at length : " The second, and more sublime prayer is that of Union. By this term is not meant a union of the presence or place, by which God is present to all creatures , nor that of sanctifying grace, by which every just man is a partaker of the friendship of God ) but this mystical union is that of the powers of the understanding and will, which, by their vital actions, are closely united to God The understanding, divested of all corporal images, is penetrated with the clear light and in- finite brightness of the divine wisdom, while the will is closely joined to God by the most ardent love, which, like a fire, consumes all earthly affections."* But let us hear the great Saint herself: '^ The soul being in this state, finds herself almost sinking under a sweet and most excessive delight. She faints, and even the breath and all corporal strength begin to fail, so that the person is then not able so much as to move her hands without great pain. The eyes are also closed, though without there being any intention of shutting them J and when, by accident, they chance to open, the soul * October 16. ^2 PREFACE. sees nothing distinctly ; and if she should read, she cannot know any of the letters correctly. She sees, indeed, that there are letters, but as the understanding does not give her any assistance, she knows not how to read even if she wished She hears, but does not understand what she hears. • . . . As for speaking, it is vanity so much as to think of any such thing, for she cannot possibly form any words ; and if she could, she could not pronounce them, because all the strength of her body is absolutely lost, on account of the greater increase of tha: uf the soul, that so she may enjoy her glory the better However long this prayer may last, i: does not put the soul to any kind of inconvenience, at least it never put TTie to any; nor am I able ij remember, that when our Lord showed me this favor, I ever found myself the worse, however weak or unwell I might have been, but rather my health was the more improved thereby. . ud, in- deed, what harm can be done to any one by so great a blessing as this ?" (Chapter xviii.) In the nineteenth Chapter, the Saint explains the wonderful effects of the prayer of Union. To this Cha ter I refer the reader, who, if he cannot understand all the sublime words the Saint utters, he will at least learn to admire her wonderful sanctity, that deserved to be so richly rewarded by her beloved Spouse ; and he will, at the same time, be astonished at the most profound humility of the >aint, who became the more humble, the more she was caressed and exalted. It was by the prayer of Union, that she saw in such a clear manner the immense greatness ot God, the emptiness of all earthly things, and her own misery ; for she behold herself covered with imperfections and innu- merable sins, (so her tender conscience magnified then,) in such a way, that she exclaimed, " Lord I who shall be justified before Thee? '* Such is the short and very imperfect explanation I have given of the prayer of Quiet and Union. The truth is, as St. Teresa herself frequently mentions, few can understand this kind of prayer, but those who have experienced it. It may, however, be useful to ujention some of the most ap- proved writers on the subject, so that if any one should feel inclined to study the subject, as it were, he may know what PREFACE, 23 authors to consult. First of all comes tlie Venerable Father Baker's ^'Sancta Sophia," which is quite a treasure in itself; besides containing u.auy valuable treatises and rules on prayer, it also gives a translation of F. Balthasar Alvarez's* account of his manner of prayer, which he wrote by the command of his superior. When we remember that Alvarez was confessor to St. Teresa, and that she speaks of him in the highest terms of praise, we shall know how to appreciate what he says on prayer. Father Baker^s "Sophia" is certainly the fees/ work we have in English on prayer: "nothinii is more clear, simple, solid,, or profound," as Bishop IJUathorne justly remarks, in a private letter his lordship kindly sent me some time ago. "II Direttorio Misti^o," by Scaramelli, is, perhaps, the next best treatise, though I must confess it is very dry. It is, however, a standard work. There is an admirable, but scarce work, in French, en* titled " Secrets Sentiers," which was composed by a holy man named Barbason. It comprises everything on the subject. I have already mentioned the " Life of Balthasar Alvarez," which is exceedingly useful and edifying. In German, Gorres has written an historical account of all the principal mystical writers, in a preface to one of the works of Suso. Benedict XIV. has treated the subject with his usual clearness and learning, in his great work " On the BeatijQcation and Canonization of the Saints." Cardinal Bona's " Via Compedii ad Deum ," will also be found very useful. It is written with great unction, solidity, clearness, and learning. Other authors might be added, such as Thomas h. Jesu ; Dionysius the Carthusian ; Gerson ; Richard of St. Victor ; St. F. of Sales ; Harphius ; Rus- brochius, Taulerus, Suso, Blosius ; " Scala Perfectionis," by F. Walter Hinton ; and lastly, the works of St. John of the Cross, which I possess in Spanish, though I have not read them.f I almost forgot to mention, that St. Teresa, in her * The life of this holy man has heen written by Lewis de Ponte o» Puente, and translated into French. {Parisy 1846.) f See Father Baker, *^ On Reading Spiritual Books," Ac. (p. 85, cap. iii.) 24 PREFACE. " Way of Perfection," lays down many excellent rules for mental prayer ; and so also does St. Peter of Alcantara, in his " Golden Treatise on Mental Prayer." From the prayer of Union came those wonderful ecstacies and raptures ; those impetuosities of the Spirit ; those mys- terious, yet familiar visions and representations of super- natural objects ; words spoken by our Lord to comfort or direct her in her troubles and afflictions ; revelations ; in- fused knowledge and understanding of the highest mysteries j — all these, and many other wonders the Saint speaks of so frequently, and with so much sincerity and humility, that we seem at once admitted into Heaven itself, — into the very sanctuary of the Divinity. Grod seems to have poured out on the blessed soul of Teresa the plenitude of flis choicest gifts, so that she might with some degree of justice exclaim with Mary, " Fecit mihi magna qui potens est." She sees God as clearly as the prophets ; she converses with Him as familiarly as the patriarchs did : she speaks of Him as learnedly and sublimely as the Doctors of the Church. It is sufficient for us to remain at the foot of the moun- tain, while she ascends the top, and hears and sees things " which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard." Her visions and raptures we are amazed at. But what we admire still more, and what contributes more to our edification, is to see that Teresa is in no way dazzled by such brightness, nor elated by such loving caresses ; but rather, the more she is exalted by her beloved Spouse, the more humble, the more fearful does she become. I must refer the reader to the twentieth Chapter of the Saint's Life, where she men- tions the difierence between union and rapture. In the latter, she says, " Our Lord catches up the soul, (as we may say,) just as the clouds catch up the vapors from the earth ; and so He, taking her wholly up from the earth, the cloud rises up to Heaven and carries her along with it, and He shows her certain things which are prepared for her there." Again : " In these raptures it does not seem that the soul even animates the body 5 and so the body itself feels vtjry great trouble, through being deprived of its natural heat ; and it seeks to cool itself, though enjoying the most exces- PREFACE. 25 Sire sweetness and delight. Here there is no means of resisting, though in the prayer of Union there is some remedy. .... But here there is no remedy, nor any help ; for the rapture often comes, without our being able to prevent its: coming, even in thought. And there comes such a sudden and strong impetuosity, that you feel the cloud raising itself up ; or rather, this strong eagle takes you and carries you quite away between its wings," &c. The examples of certain women, who about this time were found to be miserably de- luded by the devil and their own wayward imagination, greatly terrified our Saint, though at the same time she was firmly persuaded her favors came from Grod. Passing over the twenty-first and twenty-second Chapters, which are full of the most sublime narrations, we find St. Teresa resuming the history of her Life in the twenty-third Chapter. She says : *' This fear now increased to such a degree, that it made me inquire diligently after some spiritual persons with whom I could speak concerning my troubles, and already X had received some account of such persons."* The first person to whom she opened her mind was a gentleman whose name was Francesco de Salsedo, a married man, who for thirty- eight years had practised mental prayer, together with his virtuous wife. Their piety was an example to the whole country, and St. Teresa bestows on them both the highest praise. This gentleman introduced her to a very learned priest named Gaspar Daza. But both of them, after an examination of our Saint's manner of prayer, expressed their fears to her, and said, " they thought there was an evil spirit in some things, but they could not be certain." This judgment they formed, because they supposed that the ex- traordinary favors which the Saint received were inconsistent with all the sins and imperfections which she magnified to them. Great was Teresa's affliction and abundant her tears on hearing what they said, though she could not persuade her- self she was deluded by the devil. At length the gentle- * She alludes to the Jesuits, who came into Spain about the year 1553. The Saint always loved the Society of Jesus, because she heard what holy lives the Fathers led: ''Era muy afficionada d quien, de solo saber el &odo que llevaban de vida y oracion." (Cap. xxiii.) 3 26 PREFACE. jnan above mentioned strongly advised her to consult one of the Fathers of the Society of Jesus, (who had lately come into Spain,) and were eminent for their experience in guiding souls. He told her also to make a general confession to the father ; to explain everything to him with candor, and to be very careful in doing whatever he should command or ad- vis© her. St. Teresa did so ; and the father assured her, after having heard the account of her life, that her prayer came from God ; he encouraged her not to desist from her present practice ; and exhorted her every day to meditate on some part of our Saviour's passion, besides giving her many other wise and wholesome counsels. " In all things," says the Saint, *' it seemed to me that the Holy Spirit spoke by the mouth of this father for the good of my soul." In 1557, St. Francis Borgia came into Spain. St. Teresa was desired to consult him ; and having done so, he assured her that " the Spirit of God was the author of her prayer," &c. She was comforted by his words. But shortly after- wards he was called away, to the great sorrow of our Saint, for she thought she would never be able to find another like him. Her next director, however, was one according to her own heart, — the venerable servant of God, F. Balthasar Alvarez. He told her that she would do well to beg of our Lord to enlighten her mind, and teach her what He willed her to do, and that for this object she should recite every day, " Veni, Creator Spiritus." While she was once reciting this hymn, she fell so suddenly into a rapture, that she be- came as it were out of herself ; then she heard these words : ^' I will not have thee hold conversation with men, but with angels." These words were spoken in the interior of her soul, and terrified her greatly, though on the other hand they afforded her much consolation. Those words were also veri- fied to the letter ; for the Saint assures us that ever after she eould not entertain any particular affection for any one, except for those who she thought loved God and wished to serve Him. I refer the reader to the twenty-fourth Chapter. "Wlile Balthasar was her director, our Saint suffered most grievous trials and persecutions for about three years. Thovgh it was her earnest desire that all her visions and PREFAOE. 27 ] raptures should be kept quite secret, yet they soon began to be known, in spite of all her precautions. The world is always censorious, — more inclined to blame than to praise and take one's part. Accordingly, St. Teresa was ridiculed in every place, and censured without mercy. Few had a good opinion of her at first. She was called an enthusiast, — a hypocrite, — and even a devil ! She was shunned as something unclean ; as one who had dealings with the prince of darkness. Six individuals consulted together, and de- cided that she was evidently deluded by the devil ; and they prevailed on F. Balthasar to command her " not to communi- cate so frequently ; not to live so retired, nor prolong her meditations beyond the usual time," &c. Her confessor, however, consoled her to the best of his power ; bade her not despond, nor lose her courage ; for even if she were de- luded by the devil, he told her he could not hurt her, so long as she endeavored to advance in obedience, humility, patience, and divine love. One day the Saint fell into a rapture, when her soul was in the greatest affliction, and heard a voice interiorly, uttering these words : " Fear not, daughter, it is I ; and I will not forsake thee : do not fear." Her mind was instantly composed. (See Chapter xxv.) Passing over many other things for the sake of brevity, but which, I am sure, will be read with the deepest interest in the Life, I must not omit the edifying account the Saint gives us of St. Peter of Alcantara,* in the twenty-seventh Chapter. This great saint visited Avila in 1559, being ap- pointed the commissary of his Order. At that time St. Teresa was suffering the most cruel persecutions from her friends, and even from her confessors, as well as laboring under very severe interior trials from scruples and anxieties. A pious lady, named Guiomera d'Ulloa, and an intimate friend of St. Teresa, who was also aware of all her afflictions, obtained leave of the Provincial of the Carmelites for St. Teresa to remain a few days at her house, that so our Saint * See the Life of this great saiDt, written by F. John of St. Mary, in 1619, and also by F. Martin of St. Joseph, in 1644 : there is likewise an interesting account in Wadding's Annals of the Franciscan Order^ and in Alban Butler, (Oct. 19.) 28 PBEFACIE. might there have an opportunity of consulting St. Peter of Alcantara. From his own great experience and knowledge of Divine manifestations, he was easily able to understand her, to clear up all her perplexities, and give her the strong- est assurance that her prayer and visions, &c., came from the Spirit of God. He even publicly declared, that, next to the truths of religion, ** nothing appeared to him more evident than that her soul was conducted by God." The authority of so glorious a saint, — the reputation of his solid judgment and eminent sanctity, gave his decision the great- est weight, and completely turned the scales in favor of our persecuted and afflicted Saint.* Still, the holy father assured her that her troubles were not yet over ; for about this time, besides interior troubles and temptations, the blessed mother often met with exterior afflictions, and fre- quently saw devils in most hideous figures ; but she always drove them away, either by making the sign of the cross or by holy water. Respecting the latter, the words of the Saint deserve to be remembered : " I have found by experience, that there is nothing from which the devils so certainly fly (so as to return no more,) as from holy water. They also fly from the cross," &c. In the thirty-second Chapter comes the celebrated and terrible description of hell, which the devils (as our Lord gave her to understand,) had prepared for her on account of her sins ; or rather she saw the place which she was doomed to inhabit in hell, had not our Lord delivered her ; and she also actually felt in her soul the torments of that frightful prison. The different pains she experienced are described with great force and earnestness, as well as the effects ]pro- duced in her soul by the representation. The impression could never be effaced afterwards : and from that time> she tells us, " she was in very great pain for the many souls of the Lutherans, who are condemned to hell, especially because they were once members of the Church." The impulses she felt thereby to do good to souls, inspired her with the idea of reforming her Order. Having consulted God on the subject, * See Chapter zzz. Chapters zzyiiL and xxix. must be reaa ^ver very oarefuUy. PREFACE. 29 His Divine Majesty, one day after she had comumnicated, commanded her to use all her exertions to accomplish this object, promising her, at the same time, that the monastery should certainly be established, and that it should be called St. Joseph's Monastery. In the thirty-second and thirty* third Chapters, (which are additions to the Saint's Life,) she gives us a most interesting account of the foundation of St. Joseph's Monastery at Avila.* It would be too long to mention in detail all the trials and persecutions, — all the slanders and reproaches, and the immense labors St. Teresa had to endure in establishing this house. Every one seemed against her at first : the people of the town, her superiors, the provincial, the mayor, the magistrates, the nobility, her sister nuns, — a 11 protested against the foundation, not in words merely, but by scoffs, jeers, laughter, ridicule, and calumnies. Our glorious Saint, however, could not be daunted ; her courage was superior to all their persecutions ; and so calm was her soul under every trial, that she inspires us with unbounded admiration for her heroic patience and endurance. She simply recommended to God his own work, and He was pleased one day to comfort and encourage her, by these words, spoken to her in a vision : " Dost thou not hiow that I am mighty ? What dost thou fear ? Be assured the monastery shall not be dissolved. I will accomplish all that I have promised thee." The new monastery of St. Joseph was at last established, on the feast of St. Bar- tholomew, in the year 1562, to the great joy and consolation of St, Teresa. The people gradually became attached to the nuns ; and they who persecuted them the most were their kindest and greatest benefactors afterwards. They acknow- ledged " that it was the work of God." (See Chapter xxxvi.) Many Protestants will, no doubt, ridicule and disbelieve the visions and raptures of our Saint, and call them all illu- sions, or the result of an excited, enthusiastic, or weak * In the same town was the convent of the Incarnation, in which the Saint lived several years. Many relaxations, however, had crept in, espe- cially that of admitting too frequent visits of secular persons at the grate. The original rule, drawn up by Albert, Patriarch of Jerusalem, was very austere. (See Yepes and Kibera.) 3* 30 PREFACE. imagination. But it is one thing to assert, and another to prove 2l fact. I defy any one to prove that the visions, &c., of St. Teresa were illusions. The raptures and visions carry with them their own evidence ; for, as Cardinal Bona ob- serves, writing on this very subject, '*St. Teresa's visions and revelations were approved by men endowed with human and divine wisdom ; and this by signs and marks which it is worth one's while to recount here Now, that St. Teresa's was a good spirit, and her revelations true, may be proved by the following arguments : — 1. She always feared diabolical illusions, and therefore never asked or desired visions. 2. She always besought God to conduct her soul by the usual way, and only wished that God's will might be done. 3. She obe;yed her directors most punctually, and after her visions she advanced the more in charity and humility, &c. 4. She was more willing to treat with those who were less credulous and more suspicious. 5. She always made it a point of duty to mention everything to her confessors ; whereas the devil usually tries to conceal from others what he reveals. 6. She submitted to be examined by persons who at that time were eminent in Spain for their learning and piety ; such as St. Peter of Alcantara, St. F. Borgia, the Ven. John of Avila, Balthasar Alvarez, Banez, &c. 7. Her mind possessed the highest tranquillity and delight, transcending all the consolations of the world. 8. She had a most inflamed zeal for the salvation of souls ; most chaste thoughts, a great candor, and a fervent desire after perfection. 9. Her visions came after long and fervent prayers, or after receiving the Blessed Sacrament^ and they enkindled in her soul a most ardent desire of suffering for God. 10. She chastised her flesh with fasting, disciplines, and hair shirts ; she rejoiced in tribulations, detractions, and sickness. 11. She loved solitude, and avoided the conversation of meUr and was entirely disengaged from all earthly things. 12. Learned men never observed anything in her visions and revelations which was contrary to the rules of faith or Christian perfection."* * " Do Discretione Spirituum " (cap. xx.) These effects correspond witb those mentioned by Benedict XTV. ("Pe Canon, et Beatif. Sanctorum "i PREFACE. 31 Gerson lays down a sure method of distinguishing between true and false visions ; viz. if the person so favored is known to advance in humility alone : *' Si unum hoc humilitatis fiignum bene excuteretur et pateret, alias inquirere notaa necesse non foret. Nam ex humilitate et superbia in rebus spiritus facillim^ quis discat, quaenam verae sint, et quaenam falsi tatem oleant : " such are his words ; and these cor- respond with what our Saviour says, " By their fruits ye shall know them." St. Teresa often speaks on the deceits of the imagination and the fancy ; and in the " Book of the Foundations," she points out to her Nuns the great danger of giving way to melancholy ; indeed, she was very careful not to admit into the convent those who seemed subject to it. She lays down as a rule, " that if the person will not observe what her confessor commands her, nor allow him to guide her, it is either some evil spirit or a terrible melan- «}holy," (Foundations, chap, xiii.) It is also very remarkable, that nothing was ever spoken to her in any of her raptures, which was not afterwards literally fulfilled. Thus the death of St. Peter of Alcan- tara was revealed to her a year before it took place ; so that St. Teresa says, " When these words came from G od, I find the truth thereof in many things which had been told me two or three years before, and they have all proved true." (Life, chap. XXV.) The admirable letter which Father Avila sent to the Saint, after having perused the account of her Life, also confirms what has been said respecting her visions and raptures. I will quote a few passages : " The doctrine concerning prayer is, for the most part, good, and you may well acquiesce in it, and follow it; and in the raptures, I find the signs which those have that are true. The method of God's teaching a soul without the imagination, and without interior words, is safe. I find nothing to scruple at, and St. Augustine speaks well of it I think these things have benefited your soulr and especially have made you know your own misery and defects., and amend them ; they have continued a long time, anf* /always with spiritual profit j they excite you to 32 PREPAOE. love God and despise yourself, and to do penance. 1 do not see why I should blame them,"* &c. When we remember how spiritual a man Father Avila was, and how deeply versed in all the wonders of the supernatural life, his words must have immense weight. In addition to all these proofs, we know that the account of her Life was ex- amined by the Spanish Inquisition, and much commended; and above all, her doctrine has been styled by the Church, " heavenly." What stronger proofs can be desired ? Much more might be said on the subject. St. Teresa passed five years in her convent of St. Joseph, with thirteen devout Nuns, who led the lives of angels on earth. In August, 1567, the Saint founded the convent of Medina del Campo; after which came the foundations of Malagon, Valladolid, Toledo, Salamanca, Segovia, Veas, Se- ville, &c. Burgos was the last, and the most trying and diffi- cult. And here I cannot forbear inserting the following most edifying account of the death of St. Teresa, translated from the History of her Life, written by Ribera and Diego de Yepez, both of whom had been for some time her confessors. " After the holy mother had finished the foundation of Burgos, she departed to Palentia, and from thence to Medina, with the intention of making the best of her way to Avila, where she was prioress, and there bestowing the veil on her niece, Teresa of Jesus. But the Most High had appointed otherwise, for at Medina she found Father Anthony of Jesus, at that time the Deputy-Provincial, who, at the request of the Duchess of Alva, had come to meet her there, on pur- pose to take her along with him to Alva. There she was carried in a litter, suffering great pains all the way, and so much sickness, that when she came to Peynaranda, the next town, she felt such excessive torment, together with such an incredible decay of strength, that she quite swooned away ) nor was there anything to be found that could relieve her sufferings but a few figs. The venerable Anne of St. * The whole of this letter may be found in the Preface of Mr. A. Woodhead*8 translation of the works of St. Teresa. The remarks of Woodhead on the Saint's visions, Ac, are exceedingly valuable. See also the Bollandists (Oct 15.) PREFACE. 33 Bartholomew,* her individual companion, was exceedingly troubled, that in so great a necessity she could afford the holy mother no better help. But she comforted her, saying, * Do not afflict yourself, daughter ; these figs are very good, and many poor people have not such/ *' The next day on entering another town, they met with nothing but boiled herbs and onions, to make amends for the meanness of their dimmer the day before ; yet, with these she stayed her appetite as v^ell as she could, though such food was bad for her health. " The same night, being the Vigil ot St. Matthew, she was brought to Alva. She was then so spent and sick, that when she came into the house she was persuaded to go to bed, and take a little rest. The next morning, however, she got up, and went to the church to hear mass, where, with great fervoi of soul and extraordinary devotion, she received the Blessed Sacrament. She continued, sometimes better and sometimes worse, till the Feast of St. Michael the Archangel ; on which day, after hearing mass and communicating, (which was now her daily practice,) she took to her bed and never rose from it again. " The three days before her decease she spent in earnest prayer and devout supplications to God ; and in the morning she called for F. Anthony of Jesus to hear her confession. It is believed that our Lord had then revealed to her the hour of her death, for some of the nuns heard F. Anthony tell her, to entreat our Lord not to take her away so soon To whom the holy mother replied, ^ That she seemed to be no longer useful in the world.^ After this, she began to give many excellent instructions to her daughters, saying : * I be- seech you, my dear daughters, to observe the constitutions and rules very exactly ; and I likewise beg of you, not to * This holy servant, when very young, was one of the first who took the habit in St. Teresa's convent of St. Joseph, at Avila, of which city she was a native. Her eminent spirit of humilty and prayer endeared her, in a particular manner, to St. Teresa. After the saint had expired in her arms, she was sent into France, with Anne of Jesus, and was ap** pointed, by Cardinal Berulle, prioress of a convent founded at Pontoisek, She died at Antwerp, in 1626. (Note of Alban Butler.) 34 PREFACE regard the bad example "wbich such a sinner as I have given you ; but, in whatever I have offended, I desire you will ■forgive me.' So overpowered were the sisters with grief, that not one could answer a word. « At five, in the evening, she asked for the holy viaticum. As soon as the sacred pledge of our redemption was brought into her room, though just before she was so ex- hausted and oppressed with pain, that she could neither move in her bed, nor turn from one side to the other, except by the help of the sisters ; yet now she raised herself up in the bed with such vigor and ease, as if nothing were the matter ; her face shone with unusual beauty, and darted forth rays of light, looking much younger than she really was ; then, with a venerable look of majesty, closing her hands, she be- gan to utter out of the abundance of her blessed heart, certain sweet and amorous expressions ; among the rest were these : ' my Lord and my Spouse I the desired hour I have 80 long wished for is now come. Now the time is come when we shall see each other. It is now time, Lord ! for me to depart ; happy and prosperous may the journey prove ; Thy will be done. The hour is come at last, when I shall pass out of this exile, and my soul shall enjoy, in Thy company, that which she hath so much longed for.' She also gave thanks to our Lord for His goodness in having made her a child of the Church, and given her the grace to die in its bosom : she often repeated those words : ' At last, Lord ! I am a daughter of the Church.' With great humility and compunction of heart, she begged of our Lord the pardon of all her sins, hoping, as she often said, for eternal salvation by the merits of Jesus Christ, humbly entreating her daugh- ters to beg this of our Lord for her. She often repeated these words : ' A sacrifice to God is an afflicted spirit. A contrite and humbled heart, God, thou wilt not despise. Cast me not away from thy face, and take not thy Holy Spirit from me : create a clean heart in me, God,' &c. ' A contrite and humbled heart, God, thou wilt not despise,* was frequently in her mouth, till her speech failed her. " At nine o'clock the same evening, she received, with great reverence and devotion, the Sacrament of Extreme Unction PREFACE. 35 joining with the nuns in the penitential Psalms and the Litanj. F. Anthony asked her a little after, if she wished her body, after her death, to be taken to Avila or to remain at Alva ** She seemed displeased with the question, and only an- swered, ' Am I to have a will in anything ? Will they deny me here a little earth for my body V All that night ehe suffered excessive pains. The next day, at seven in the morning, she turned herself on one side, just in the posture and manner that the blessed Magdalen is commonly drawn by painters. Thus she remained for fourteen hours, holding a crucifix so firmly in her hands, that the nuns could not take it away till after she died. She continued in an ecstasy, with an inflamed countenance and great composure, like one wholly taken up with internal contemplation. When she was now drawing near her end, one of the nuns, viewing her more attentively, thought she observed in her certain signs of our Saviour talking to her, and^ showing her some wonderful things. " Thus she remained till nine in the evening, when she sur- rendered her pure soul into the hands of her Creator. She died in the arms of Sister Anne of St. Bartholomew, on the 4th of October, 1582; but the next day, on account of the reformation of the calendar, was the fifteenth of that month, the day now appointed for her festival. The Saint was sixty- seven years old, forty-seven of which she had passed in re- ligion ; twenty- seven in the monastery of the Incarnation, and twenty in that of St. Joseph." At the moment that the Saint expired, several of the nuns saw many wonderful signs of her happiness and glory; a globe of light raising itself in the air ; a dove mounting to- wards heaven from the room where the Saint expired, &c. A nun, who had charge of the infirmary, while sitting at a ,v window of the room where the Saint lay, heard a confused "''kind of noise, as of a multitude rejoicing; and soon after, she saw a great multitude of persons, all in white, glittering with a wonderful splendor; entering the room where the holy mother reposed, they surrounded her bed, as if they had come to accompany her to heaven. A most agreeable odor filled the whole house. The countenance of the Saint 36 PREFACE. looked most beautiful and heavenly, not a wrinkle was to be seen on it.* These, and many other things, are attested in the Bull of her canonization. The Saint's body Tvas honorably buried at Alva. On the 4th day of July, 1583, nine months after her death, the coffin was opened, and the body was found to be as perfect and incorrupt as if it had but lately been buried. The scent from the body was wonder- fully sweet. Before the body was enclosed in a new coffin, the Father Provincial took off the left hand, which he after- wards carried to Lisbon, for a monastery of discalced nuns lately founded there. In 1585, by a decree of the Pro- vincial Chapter of the Order, held at Pastrana, the body was secretly removed to Avila. The body was then ex- amined again, and found in the same state as before, incorrupt, and sending forth a very sweet odor. But in 1586, the Duke of Alva, being quite angry at the removal of the Saint's body, obtained leave of the Pope to have it translated back again to Alva, which was accordingly done, with great honor and reverence ; and there it remains, incorrupt, at the present day. More particulars may be seen in Kibera, (lib. v.,) and also in the Bollandists, (Oct. 15.) I should have mentioned, that the heart of St. Teresa, (as it is credibly believed, and can be proved,) was miraculously transfixed. The Church alludes to this wonderful fact in the hymn appointed for hei festival : it is also mentioned in the Acts of her canonization, and by Benedict XIY. The Carmelites in Spain say the office of the Transfixion at the present day. Many relics of the Saint are to be found in several parts of Europe. Her right foot is at Bome j a middle finger at Paris ; one of the shoulder-bones at Brussels ; and in Milan and Venice are some of her teeth. In Naples, her scapular is preserved ; and at Paris her mantle. The two fervent communities of Teresians in England, and some of the houses in Ireland, also possess some valuable relics of their glorious mother. * (See Ribera's Life of St. Teresa, in the Bollandists, lib, iii.; also Yepez, lib. ii. cap. xxxviiL Villefore likewise gives the same account of St. Teresa's death, lib. v.) PREFACE. 37 The original manuscript of the Saint's Life, together with her " Way of Perfection, the Foundations, and tbe Manner of visiting Convents," are still carefully preserved in the royal library of the Escurial. The different Spanish editions of the Saint's works which have appeared, and the translations which have been made, Into various languages, sufficiently prove the high estimation the world has formed of the Saint's writings. To enumerate all the different editions is unnecessary. In Spanish, the following are the principal ones : Eborae, 1583 ; Salamanca, 1588; Naples, 1594; Madrid, 1597, 1611, 1615, 1622, 1627, 1635, 1636, 1661, 1662, 1670, 1678, 1752, 1778, 1793, Brussels, 1610, 1612, 1674, 1675, 1684, 1740; Antwerp, 1630, 1649, 1661. Francisco Bordini, a disciple of St. Philip Neri, translated St. Teresa's Life into Italian, in 1601.* I believe there is another Italian translation, but I have not seen it. An edi- tion of the " Foundations" was published in Rome, 1622 ; and at Venice in 1636. Her Life has also been translated into German, Latin, and French. Arnauld d'Andilly's translation was first published in Paris, in 1670 ; and since then there have been several editions, one at Brussels, in 1839, and the last in 1840, published by the Abbe Migne, who deserves much praise for his noble exertions in the <3ause of religion and literature. D'Andilly's translation is, on the whole, not very faithful, for here and there several passages might have been translated more accurately. But the reader must be on his guard in reading his translation, for as D'Andilly was a Jansenist, he tries to misrepresent what St. Teresa says in several places. I am not acquainted with any other translation of her " Life" into French, though several of her other works, including her admirable Letters, have been translated at different times. Several eminent persons have written " Histories" of her Life. Among these, the first that deserves to be mentioned is F. Eibera, so well known by his Commentaries on the * There is also an Italian translation, entitled ** Opere Spirituali della Santa Madra Teresa di Giesii/' (in 2 vols., Venice^ 1690). Another trans- lation was published at Turin, in 6 Yols.^ 12mo. 1830-40. 4 38 PREFAOE. Holy Scripture. He was born in 1537. Having commenced his studied at Salamanca, he was afterwards made one of the Professors in the Archiepiscopal College of Toledo; but, after a few years, he resigned this office, and entered the Society of Jesus. He made his noviciate under P. Baltha- sar Alvarez. After leading a most virtuous and edifying life, he died at Salamanca, in 1591. So great was his hu* mility, that his superiors were obliged to conunand him to publish his Commentaries on the Holy Scripture.* He pub- lished all his works in Latin, except his " Life of St. Teresa,'* which he wrote in Spanish, and which was published at Sala- manca, in 1 590. It has been translated into Latin, under the following title : " Vita S. Matris Teresiae de Jesu, auc- tore R. P. Francisco Ribera ; ex Hispanico sermone in Lati- num convertebat Mathias Martinez:" Colonics jlgrippiTUSy 1620. This translation is a very good one. The Bollandists have republished it at the end of their magnificent volume (page 538). In 1645, Ribera's Life of St. Teresa was pub- lished in French, by Pere de Bretigny, who was assisted by D. Duchevre, with this title : " La Vie de la Mere Terese de Jesus, composee par le R. P. Fran9ois Ribera, traduite d'Espagnol en Fran9ais par J. D. B. P. et le P. G. C. C." The style is very antiquated. With regard to Ribera's Life, as he was St. Teresa's confessor whenever she came to Sala- manca, he must have had abundant means and opportunities of learning many valuable particulars about the Saint's Life. These he relates with great fidelity and unction, though the thread of his narration is often interrupted by pious reflec- tions, and by a want of order and method j still the " Life" is exceedingly valuable and interesting. The next writer after RJbera, is Diego de Yepez, of the Order of the Hieronymites, and Bishop of Tarassona, in Aragon, and confessor to St. Teresa and King Philip 11. of Spain. Having the advantage of the labors of Ribera, and possessing the happiness of being an intimate friend of St. Teresa, he was enabled to furnish us with more valuable * These consist of Commentaries on the twelve minor Prophets; on 6t. Paul's Epistlo to the Hebrews ; on the Apocalypse, and the Gospel of St. John. PREFACE. 39 details than his predecessor. The style is somewhat diffuse, but the Life is "written with more order and judgment than that of Ribera. Yepez dedicated his work to Pope Paul V. It was first published in Salamanca, in 1606, with this title : " Vida, Virtudes, j Milagros de la B. Virgen Teresa de Jesus." Several other editions have been published in Spanish. The Life has also been translated into Italian and French; into the former, by Cesare Braccini (Rome^ 1623 } and MilaUy 1628). Giuseppe de Castro published a new and more correct translation in 1733, at Rimini. In 1643, P. Cyprien de la Nativite published a French translation. The style is not at all pleasing. The Venerable Johannes h Jesu-Maria published a short but admirable epitome of the Saint's Life in Latin, with this title : " Compendium Vitae B. V. Teresiae a Jesu, Fundatricis Fratrum Discalceatorum et Monialium Beatissimas Virginis Mariae de Monte Car- melo" (RomcB, 1609). Several Lives of the Saint have appeared in French. P. Fran9ois de Sauite-Marie wrote a General History of the Carmelite Order, in Spanish, and this was translated into French by Gabriel de la Croix (Paris, 1655). But the two other histories of the Saint's Life are those by Villefore and the Abbe Boucher. The former appeared in 1712, and is entitled, " La Vie de Sainte Terese, tiree des Auteurs ori- ginaux Espagnols et des Historiens contemporains ; avec des Lettres choisies pour servir d'eclaircissements a PHistoire de sa Vie." The Abbe Migne has prefixed this Life to his edition of the works of St. Teresa. The Life is correctly written, as far as I can judge, though it would have added to the value of the work, had the writer quoted his authori- ties. There are a few mistakes in the chronology of the Saint's Foundations ; and many have also complained that the author is too cold when speaking of her heroic deeds. Boucher published his Life of the Saint in 1810, " Vie de Sainte Therese, avec des Notes historiques, critiques, et morales." I have not seen the work, and cannot therefore pronounce any opinion on its merits. The Saint's Letters have been translated into French by two different individuals ; one is M» Francois Pelicot {jlnversy 1707), the other is M- 40 PREFACE. Chappe de Ligni. This last translation, which is the most elegant and correct, appeared in 1753. But as it did not include all the Saint's letters ; a second volume appeared in 1748, translated by the Eev. Mother Marie Marguerite de Morpeou, Superioress of the Carmelite Convent of St. Denis ; she died in 1727. The translation is exceedingly well done. 1 should have mentioned, that the translation of M. Pelicot is enriched with the valuable notes of Palafox, the illus- trious Bishop of Osma. Two translations of the Saint's Life have been published in English. One by the illustrious convert. Sir Tobie Mathews,* whose edition appeared in 1623, as Dodd men- tions, though I think he is mistaken, for the translation was published at Antwerp, and this bears the date of 1642. There may have been two editions. The title is " The Flaming Hart, or the Life of the Grlorious St. Teresa." No name is attached. The other English translation is by the pious and learned Abraham Woodhead.f This includes all her works, except her Letters. The translation is divided into two parts, which appeared in 1669, 1671, and 1675. To both parts is annexed a very learned Preface, vindicating the visions and raptures of the Saint from the attacks of Protestant writers. The merits of both the translations, as regards ccyn'edness and fidelity, are, I think, almost equal, though the prefer- ence on the whole is due to Woodhead's. There is also a remarkable similarity of expression between the two Trans- lations, of which a few examples will be sufficient. WoodheatPs Translation. — " The having of vertuous pa-» rents, and such as live in the fear of God, together with those favors which I received from His Divine Majesty, had been able to have made me good, if I bad not been so very wicked. My father was delighted in reading good books ; and used to have them in Spanish, that so his children might also read them," &c. (Chap, i.) Sir Tobie Mathews\ — The having of vertuous parents, * See a short Life of the author in the Appendix, No. 1. ■f See Appendix, No. 2. PREFACE. 41 and such as live in the fear of Almighty God, together with those favors which I have received from His Divine Majesty, had been able to have made me good, if I had not been so very wicked. My father was delighted in reading good bookes, and used to have them in Spanish, that so his chil- dren might also read them," &c. (Chap i.) Let ns take the commencement of the second Chapter from Woodhead : — " I believe that a certain thing, whereof I will now give account, began to do me a great deal of hurt. I consider sometimes how ill those parents do who procure not that their children should be ever seeing examples of vertue, in all kinds from them," &c. Sir Tobie Mathews has almost the same words : — " I be^ lieve that a certain thing, whereof I will now give account, beganne to doe me a great deall of hurt. Sometimes I grow to consider how ill those parents doe, who procure not that their children should be ever seeing examples of vertue in all kindes," &c. I might give many other passages, and compare them to- gether, which would show a striking similarity of expression throughout, making allowance, of course, for a difference in orthography, considering that Sir Tobie's translation ap- peared several years before that of Mr. Woodhead, which is much more English and readable than Sir Tobie's. But in both the punctuation is exceedingly bad. However, as both the Translations are on the whole very faithful, I found it useful to have them by me, and compare and correct my translation (as I sometimes did) with theirs. In 1757, the Venerable Bishop Challoner published an Epitome of Woodhead's translation, which is very useful for those who cannot obtain a copy of Woodhead or Sir Tobie's translation, both of which are now very scarce. Bishop Challoner, in his Preface, pays the following very deserved tribute of praise to Mr. Woodhead :— " The life of the holy Mother Teresa of Jesus, was published in our language anno 1671, by that truly learned and pious convert, Mr. Abraham Woodhead, some time fellow of University College in Oxford, a person justly esteemed, even by the adversaries of his religion, for one of the greatest men that this famous uni- 4* 42 PREFACE. versity ever produced. As he was not only master of the Spanish, but withal scrupulously nice in not departing from the sense or the phrase of the original, his translation may be relied on as most faithful," &c. With regard to the present translation, it is not my place to pronounce any opinion upon its merits. All I can say is, that though I have endeavored to adhere to the original to the best of my power, and to preserve the beautiful simpli- city of the Saint's style, yet we all know how much inferior even the best translations must be to the original. But there is a difficulty about St. Teresa's Life which few other works present ; and that is, the sublimity of the subjects on which she speaks : and this is especially the case in that part of the Life which treats of the prayer of Quiet and of Union. And if it be very difficult for the " unexperienced" to understand what the Saint says on that sublime subject, how much more, difficult must it be to translate her thoughts and lofty words into another language. Here I am afraid I have failed ; I must have made many mistakes — many mis- translations — many errors. In whatever way I may have done injustice to the Saint's Life, I humbly beg the kind indulgence of the reader. I shall be exceedingly grateful to any one who will point out the mistakes to me, and what- ever else may require correction. Still, with all its faults and imperfections, I trust the reader will derive no little profit and delight from the perusal of a work, which, next to the " Confessions" of St. Augustine, is the most excellent and edifying Biography of a saint that we possess. The labor of translating it has indeed been great, interrupted, too, as it was very frequently, by my missionary duties, which required my chief attention. Still the labor has been abundantly repaid by the pleasure I have experienced in translating the words of so glorious a saint, and by the edifi- cation I have received in beholding her heroic virtues, and the bright example she still gives us all of humility, morti- fication, self-denial, obedience, purity, and the most ardent love of God, &c. I cannot conclude this imperfect Preface in any better way, than in the words of one who loved St. Teresa most tenderly and affectionately: — "Et tu. clemen- PREFACE. 43 tissima Virgo Teresia, fave, obsecro, huio SQriptori tuo, qui millenos calamos, ut heroica gesta tua celebret exercere cu- pit. Modicum est sane, nobilissiiua Virgo, quod extuli: nimium parce scripsi : at, quidquid moliri possum, exiguum est Per illud ergo immensi amoris incendium, quo in dulcissimum Deum deflagrasti, obsecro te, filio tuo manum porrigas, et ad optatissiman urbem Hierusalem aoterna liber- tate donandum recta perducas."* I cannot but express the great obligations I am under to the Superioress of Mount Carmel and the Teresian convent at Llanherne, for their extreme kindness in lending me many valuable works connected with the Saint's life ; also to the Rev. Claudio Lopez, late of Yarmouth, for his kindness in explaining several difl&cult and obsolete Spanish words ; to the Very Rev. Dr. Moore, of St. Mary's, Handsworth, for lending me the Antwerp editionf of the Saint's work (3 vols. Spanish, 1649) ; to W- Archer, Esq., for the loan of the last volume of the Bollandists, which contains everything that is known about St. Teresa ; and lastly, I return many thanks both to Bishop Wareing and Bishop Ullathorne, for having given me their kind encouragement to proceed with the translation. To Bishop Ullathorne I am indebted for the loan of Mr. Woodhead's translation, now very scarce. I have annexed, in the Appendix (No. 3), the Bull of the Saint's canonization, by Pope Gregory XV., in 1622. 1 have likewise added (No. 4) the Saint's celebrated Hymn, both in Spanish and in French, which she composed extem- pore in one of her raptures, together with an excellent Eng- lish translation, by the Rev. Father Caswall ; and also (Ap- pendix No. 6) the letter which St. Teresa wrote to her con-, fessor, when she sent him a copy of her Life. JOHN DALTON. Bishop's House, Northamton, Feast of St. Teresa, 1851. * " Compendium Vitae B. V. Teresiae ^ Jesu," per Fr. Joan, it Jesu. {Rom'e, 1609.) f This, however, is not the beat. I was unable to procure the last edition. PEEEACE OE ST. TERESA. I WOULD have wished, that as my Superiors commanded me, and gave me full liberty to describe the method of prayer, and the favors which our Lord had bestowed upon me, they had also permitted me to mention, clearly and in detail, my great sins and wicked life. This would have given me great consolation 5 but they would not allow me ; rather they restrained me in this particular ; and therefore I beg, for the love of our Lord, that whoever shall read this discourse of my Life, will notice how very wicked it has been ; so much so, that I have not found any saint, amongst all those who have been converted to G-od, from whose ex- ample T might draw consolation. For I consider, that after our Lord had called them to virtue they no more offended Him : whereas, I not only became worse, but rather, it seems to me, I even studied to resist the favors His divine Majesty had bestowed upon me : and though I was one who saw her- self obliged to serve Him the more, yet I was convinced within myself I was unable to make any return, for the least part of what I owed Him. May He be blessed forever, who waited for me so long. I beseech Him, with my whole heart, to give me grace, that I may, with all clearness and truth, make this relation which my Confessors have commanded me (and which I know even our Lord Himself has long desired ; but I could not dare to venture upon it) : I hope that now it may tend to the glory (45/ 46 PREFACE. and praise of His Majesty ; and also that my Confessors, having hereby a clearer knowledge of me, may henceforth assist my weakness, that so I may be able to repay some little portion of what I owe to our Lord, whom may all crea- tures praise forever. Amen. TERESA DE JBSU, THE LIPE OE ST. TEHESA CHAPTER I. THE SAINT MENTIONS HOW OUR LORD BEGAN TO EXCITE HER SOUL, IK HER CHILDHOOD, TO VIRTUOUS ACTIONS, AND WHAT GREAT HELP HER PIOUS PARENTS WERE TO HER. As I had virtuous parents, and such as feared God, this would have heen sufficient, together with the other favors our Lord bestowed upon me, to have made me good, if I had not been so wicked. My father took great delight in read- ing good books, and he had them in Spanish, that his children might be able to read them. This circumstance, together with the care my mother took to make us say our prayers, and to show us the way of being devout to our Lady and some other saints, began to affect me when I was about six or seven years old, to the best of my remembrance. I was also assisted by observing, I should receive no favors from my parents, except I was virtuous, and they were very virtuous themselves. My father was exceedingly charitable towards the poor, and kind to the sick and infirm : and even to his servants he was so considerate, that he never could prevail on himself to keep any slaves, because his kindness was so great. Once there was a slave in his house who be- longed to a brother of his, and he treated him as if one of his own sons, and said he could not bear to see such, unless they were free — such was his compassion. He was a great lover of truth ; never did any one hear him swear, or detract ; he was also exceedingly chaste. My mother likewise had many virtues, and she passed through life under great infir- mities. Her purity was beyond all praise ; for though she was very beautiful, no one ever heard she gave any occasion to the least suspicion, or that she made any account of her (47) 48 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. beauty; and when she died, at three-and-thirty years of age, her conduct was such as would become a much older person. Her disposition was very sweet, and her under- standing very solid. The afflictions she had to endure all her life were numerous ; when she died she made a most Christian end. There were three sisters and nine brothers ; all (through the goodness of God) resembled our parents in being virtuous except myself, though my father loved me the most, and truly, before I began to offend God, he seemed to have had some reason ; for I am grieved when I remember the good inclinations our Lord had given me, and the little I knew how to make a good use of them. My brothers, too, in no way prevented me from serving God. One of them was about the same age as myself, and 1 loved him more than all the rest 3 though, at the same time, I loved them all very tenderly, and they loved me ; myself and my brother joined together in reading the Lives of the Saints. When I saw the martyrdoms through which many had passed, for the love of God, I thought they had pur- chased very cheaply, the sight and enjoyment of God ; and I myself felt a great desire to die in this manner ; not^ how- ever, through the love which I thought I had for him, but rather that I might, by so short a way, enjoy the possession of those immense goods which I had read were to be found in heaven. I, therefore, and my brother considered together, what means there were within our reach, for attaining this object. We agreed to go into the country of the Moors, and to beg our way for the love of God, so that we might be put to death there ] and it seems that our Lord gave us courage in so tender an age, if we could have found any means for accomplishing our object ; but our having parents appeared to be the greatest obstacle. We were greatly amazed in reading, that both the torments a-nd glory [of the next life]* were eternal. We often spoke on this subject, and we took delight in often repeating these words : " for- * These words within brackets are not in the original, but have beeu inserted to make the sense more olear. LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 49 ever, forever, forever." By pronouncing them over and over again, our Lord was pleased to imprint the way of truth on me in that tender age ; and now, when I saw it was im- possible to go where I might be put to death for God, my brother and myself tried to become hermits, and so, in a garden, which belonged to the house, we endeavored as well as we could to erect hermitages, and collected little stones for this purpose, which, however, soon fell down when we piled them up ; and thus we could find no means of exe- cuting our desires. But now it excites devotion in me when I consider how soon God gave me these good desires, which I afterwards lost through my own fault ; I gave alms as well as I could, though they were but little. I tried to be alone, in order to perform my devotions, which were many, especially the Rosary; a devotion to which my mother was very much attached, and she endeavored to make us love it also. I took great delight, when playing with other chil- dren, in making monasteries, as if we had been nuns ; and it seemed as if I desired to be one, though not so earnestly as I did those things of which I have spoken. I remember that when my mother died I was not quite twelve years old. When I began to understand what a loss I had sustained, I was greatly afflicted, and I threw myself before an image of our Lady, beseeching her, with many tears, to be a mother to me. And though I performed this action in simplicity, yet I think I gained benefit from it, for I have clearly experienced the assistance of this sovereign Virgin, whenever I recommended myself to her ; and, in a word, she has turned me altogether to her. It grieves me now to consider how insignificant those impediments were, which prevented me from remaining constant and firm in those good desires which I began [to have] . my Lord ! since it seems Thou art determined to save me (and I be- seech thy Majesty''*' that it may be so), and to show me such great favors as Thou hast already shown me ; wilt Thou not Be pleased (not for my interest but for Thy glory), that this * Tour Majesty is a title frequently given by the Saint both to God fcnd our Saviour. It is also applied in Spain to the Sacred Host. 50 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. dwelling in which Thou so continually abidest, raay never more be defiled 1 I am grieved even to say so much as this, because I know the fault was entirely my own, since nothing was wanting on Thy part, that I might be wholly thine from that age. And if I should venture to complain of my pa- rents, this would avail but little, since I never saw anything in them but what was good, and a solicitude for my welfare also. Passing on from that tender age, I began to under- stand the gifts of nature which our Lord had given me (which were great, according to what people said), and in- stead of giving Him thanks for them, I began to make use of them all in offending Him, as I shall now declare. CHAPTER II. 8HB RELATES HOW SHE BEGAN TO BE FOND OF READING ROMANCES, AND HOW NECESSARY IT IS FOR YOUTH TO KEEP GOOD COMPANY. It seems to me that a certain circumstance, which I will now relate, began to do me great harm. I sometimes con- sider what evil those parents commit, who do not always endeavor to show their children every kind of good example; for though (as I have already mentioned) my mother was very particular in this respect, yet, when I arrived at the use of reason, I did not follow her good example as much as I ought to have done, and, indeed, hardly at all ; while, on the other hand, whatever was bad did me much harm. She was particularly fond of reading books of romance,* though she did not imbibe so much evil by this entertain- ment as I did, because it did not hinder her usual work, but it made us omit many duties, that so we might read these books. And perhaps my mother read them, that thus her thoughts might not dwell on the great troubles she endured, and her children might so occupy themselves as not to fall * Books of knight-errantry were very common in Spain when St, Te- resa lived. They were styled " Romances," because they were written, in the vulgar language, then called ^omanciere. (See Alban Butler's note on the subject, Oct. 15.) LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 51 into other more dangerous things. My father,* however, was so particular on this point, that great care was taken lest he should know anything on the subject. But I con- tinued in the habit of reading these books, and this slight fault of mine, which I perceived in myself, began to cool my good desires, and was the cause of my failing in other things. I fancied, however, there was no harm, though I spent many hours, both of the day and night, in so vain an exercise, un- known to my father. But I was so addicted to this habit, that if I could not obtain some new book, it seemed to me I could not be happy. I began also to wear fine clothes, and to desire to appear handsome. I took great care of my hands and of my hair, and was fond of perfumes, together with all those vanities which I was able to obtain, which were many ; for I was very curious in this respect. I had, however, no bad inten- tion, because I would not wish any one to offend God on my account. This over-great nicety about finery and neatness con- tinued some time ; and hence, those things which for many years appeared to be no sin whatever, I now see how evil they were. I had certain cousin s-german who frequently came to my father's house ) and these only were admitted, for my father was very prudent and circumspect, and would to God he had been so in regard to those likewise, for I now see the danger there is, in an age when virtues are to be planted in the soul, to converse with persons who, not knowing the vanity of the world, are the more inclined to excite others to throw them- selves into it. They were almost of the same age as myself, or rather a little older ; we were always together, they had a great affection for me, and in all things I gave them pleasure. I kept alive the conversation, and listened to the success of their marriage-proposals, and such other fooleries that are good for nothing ; but what is still worse, my soul became exposed to that which was the cause of her evils. If I could * The namo of St. Teresa's father was Alfonso Sanchez Cepacia, and that of her mother Beatrice Ahumada. She was his second wife. St. Teresa was born in 1515. 62 LIPJS OP ST. TERESA. advise parents, I would entreat them to take great care wKat kind of persons their children converse with at that age, for great mischief may thence arise, since our nature is more in- clined to evil than to good. Thus it happened to me. I had a sister much older than myself, whose purity and goodness I highly esteemed, though I profited nothing by them ; but I received much harm from a relation of mine, who frequented the house. Her conversation was so light, that my mother did all in her power to prevent her coming to the house, (she appeared to foresee the evil that was to come on me;) but yet, the excuses of entering were so plausible, that my mother could not refuse her. With this person, (as I have said,) I delighted to entertain myself: with her I held conversations and intercourse, because she helped me to pass away the time in everything I wished, and she even enticed me into them, and gave me an account of her conversations and vanities. Up to the time when I began to be so familiar with her, (I was then about fourteen years old, and I think a little more,) that she made me acquainted with all her afiairs ; I do not think I had offended Almighty God by any mortal sin,* nor ever lost his fear, though I dreaded more the loss of my honor. This had power over me, so as to prevent me from losing it altogether ; and I think that no consideration in the world could have made me change my resolution, nor could my love for any person have induced me to give it up. Would that I had possessed strength enough, not to go in opposition to the Divine honor, as even my natural disposition disposed me, not to lose that in which (as I thought,) the honor of the world consisted, though I considered not I had really lost it in many other ways. For vainly upholding it I used all my exertions, but I took no account of the means to preserve it ; however, I used great diligence and circumspection not to lose it entirely. My father and sister were much troubled about this friend- ship I had formed, and they reproved me for it very often ; but as they were unable to remove the occasion of her coming *• Bishop Yepes expressly declares, in his Life of our Saint, that she never committed a mortal sin. (Vida de Santa Teresa, cap. iii.) LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 53 to the house, all their care was of no avail, for my quickness and sagacity in everything evil were very great. I sometimes am struck with the evil bad company produces ; and if I had not experienced it myself, I could not have believed it ; th« greatest mischief arises, especially in youth, and, therefore, I wish that parents would learn experience from me, that so they may consider this point carefully. The truth is, that this conversing with the person above mentioned produced such a change in me, that there was now scarcely any sign left in me of my former good dispositions ; and it seems that both she, and another also, who indulged in the same man- ner of amusements, impressed their character upon me. Hence it is that I now understand what a blessing good company is ; and I consider it quite certain, that if, in that age, I could have conversed with virtuous persons, I should have preserved my virtue entire ; and also, if then I had met with some one who could have taught me to fear God, my soul would have advanced and gained strength against falling. But afterwards, entirely losing this fear, the fear of losing my honor alone remained, and this tormented me. But thinking that such and such things would not be known, I presumed to do many actions, both against my honor and against God. In the beginning these things did me harm — as far as I can judge ; and they happened not through the fault of others, but my own fault, since after- wards my own malice was sufficient to commit evil, together with my servants, who were always ready for every kind of mischief. But if any of them had given me good advice, I should perhaps have profited by it ; interest, however, blinded them, as my affections blinded me. And though I never was much inclined to evil (for I naturally abhorred dishonest actions,) yet I loved to pass my time in pleasant conversations ; but being placed in the occasion of sin, the danger was near at hand, and that brought my father and brother into it. But God delivered me from this danger in such a mannert that it seems clear He wished, even against my will, to pre- serve me from utter destruction ; though matters could not be managed so secretly but that my honor was stained thereby, and suspicions were raised in my father's mind. 5* 54 LIFE OF ST* TERESA. After I had been living about three months in these vanities, I was taken to a certain monastery in this town,* where such joung persons like myself were educated, though they were not so habitually wicked as I was. This removal was done with great discretion and caution, for only myself and a relation of inine knew of it. They waited for a favor- able opportunity, that so the thing might not appear strange ; for as my sister was then lately married, it did not seem proper for me to be at home alone without a mother. The love which my father bore me was so great, (and so also was my dissimulation,) that he could not believe so much ill of me, and therefore 1 did not fall into disgrace with him. For ga the time was short, though he might have heard something about me, yet what he heard could not have been said with certainty, because, as I took so much care of my honor, all my diligence was directed towards keeping things secret, while I considered not how impossible it was to keep anything from Him who seeth everything. O my God ! what evil is done in the world through not considering this truth, — through not remembering that nothing can be secret which is against Thee ! I think it quite certain, that great sins would be avoided if we could understand that our duty does not consist in keeping ourselves from the sight of men, but in preserving ourselves from oflfending God During the first eight days I was in the monastery! T felt very unhappy, and the more so, because I suspected that my vanity was now discovered, and not so much because I was placed in the monastery. And I now began to be tired of my vanities, and to have a great fear when I offended God, and I endeavored to " confess " often. But eight days after, and I think even less, I enjoyed more quiet and comfort than ever I experienced in my father's house. All the religious were glad to be in my company ; for in this respect our Lord gave me the particular favor of always pleasing persons wherever I might be, and thus I was much beloved, and though * In Avila, where there was a convent of Austin nuns. Our Saint was then about fourteen years old. f Un Monasterio*' signifies a convent as well as monastery. LIFE OF ST. TERESA, 55 at that time I was quite opposed to my becoming a nun, yet I was glad to see in that house so many good religious, of great purity, and devotion, and recollection. But notwithstanding all this, the devil ceased not to tempt me, and to seek persons out of the monastery to disturb me with their messages ; but as there was no opportunity for them, they soon ceased ; and my soul began again to accustom herself to the good impressions of my youth, and I saw how great is the favor God bestows on those whom He leads into good company. It seems as if his Majesty had gone on con- sidering and re-considering, how He could bring me back again to Himself! Blessed be Thou, Lord, who didst bear with me so long ! Amen. One circumstance there was, which seems might have excused me, had I not committed so many faults , it was this : that the conversation I held was on the subject of a marriage, which seemed likely to end well. Having informed my confessor of the matter, and also many other persons, they told me I did not offend God. A re- ligious slept where we secular ladies were, and it seems that by her means our Lord wished to enlighten me, as I shall now relate. CHAPTER in. SHE MENTIONS HOW GOOD COMPANT WAS THE MEANS OF RE-AWAKEN- ING VIRTUOUS DESIRES WITHIN HKR, AND HOW OUR LORD BEGAN TO GIVE HER LIGHT TO DISCOVER HER ERRORS. As I now began to take delight in the good and holy con- versation of this nun, I was pleased in hearing her speak so well on God, for she was a very pious and discreet person. As far as I remember, I was always pleased to hear her speak [on heavenly things.]* One day she began to tell me how she came to be a religious, which was by merely reading these words of the Gospel : " Many are called, but few are chosen.'' She spoke to me on the rewards our Lord will ^ Not in the originaL 56 LIFE OP ST. TERESA. give those who leave all things to follow Him. Her good company soon began to banish all the habits evil company had led me into, and to bring back to my mind the desire of eternal things, and also, in some degree, to divest me of that aversion I had to become a nun, which once was so very great. But now, if I saw any one shed tears at her prayers, or perceived that she possessed other virtues, I envied her extremely, though in this respect my heart was so very bad, that were I even to read the whole history of our Saviour's Passion, I could not shed a tear : this gave me a great deal of pain. I remained a year and a half in this monastery to my great advantage ; for I began to recite many vocal prayers, and prevailed on all the nuns to recommend me to God, that He might place me in such a state of life, wherein I could serve Him. But, still, I wished not to be a nun, and that this might not be the state which God would appoint for me. I was, however, afraid to marry. But at the end of the time I was in the monastery, I had a greater desire to be a religious, though not in that house, because the virtues there practiced were too high for me, and their mortifications seemed excessive in the extreme. Some of the younger nuns also encouraged me in these ideas ; but if all had been of the same opinion, I should have gained much by it. I had like- wise a great friend in another monastery, and this was partly a reason which induced me not to wish to be a nun, except in the house where this person lived, that is, if I were to be a nun at all. I had more regard for the pleasure of my sensuality and vanity, than for the welfare of my soul. These good thoughts, however, of being a nun, sometimes came into my mind, and went away immediately, so that I could not yet persuade myself to be one. At this period, though I was not without solicitude for a remedy, yet our Lord was more desirous of disposing me for that state which was the best for my soul. I became so un- well, that I was obliged to return to my father's house. When I recovered, I was taken to my sister's house on a visit ; she resided in the country, and great was the love I had for her ; and if she could have had her will, I should LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 57 never have left her. Her husband also loved me much, at least he showed me every kindness and attention ; and even for this I am indebted to our Lord, since in every place I am always treated kindly, notwithstanding I have been as ungrateful for this favor as I have for all others. On the way to my sister, my father's brother* resided — a very discreet and virtuous man. He was a widower, and our Lord was disposing him for Himself, for in his de- clining year he left everything, became a religious, and ended his days in such a manner, that I believe he now en- joys the sight of God. But as I passed, he wished me to remain a few days with him. It was his custom to read good books in Spanish ; and his usual discourse was on Grod and on the vanity of the world. Those books he made me also read ; and though I had no great liking for them, yet I pretended I had ; for I always took the greatest care to give pleasure to others, however dear it might cost me : hence, what in others would have been virtue, in me was a fault, because I often conducted myself without discretion. my God ! by what means and ways didst thy Majesty go on, disposing me for that «tate in which Thou wert pleased I should serve Thee ! Thou didst even force me, against my will, to do violence to myself. Be Thou blessed forever. Amen. Though I remained but a short time in this place, yet such was the effect produced in my heart by the words of God, which I both heard and read, and also by the good company I had been in, that I came to understand those truths I had learnt when a child, viz., that all things were nothing ; how great was the vanity of the world ; how it would shortly end ; and that I had just reason to fear, if I died (in my present state), I should be sent to hell. But though my will did not yet wholly incline me to be a nun, yet I clearly saw it was the better and more secure state ; and so by little and little I resolved to force myself to em- brace it. In this battle I continued three months, urging myself to the religious state by these reasons ; the labors and trouble * His name waa Pedro Sanchez de Cepcda. 58 LIPEOFST. TERESA. of being a nun could not be greater than the pains of purga- tory ; and that as I had justl;y deserved hell, it should not be considered much, if, while I lived, I remained, as it were, in purgatory, that so afterwards I might go straight to heaven. Such was my desire ; but in this inclination to em- brace the religious life, it seems to me that I was more in- fluenced by servile fear than by love. The devil, in the meantime, represented to me that I should never be able to endure the difficulties of the reli- gious state, because I was so delicately brought up. But against these suggestions I defended myself, by remembering the labors and sufferings of our Lord, and that it would not be much for me to endure some f(r the love of Him: I should also have recollected, that he would give me strength to endure them (for I forget whether I had this thought) ; but I am sure I had many temptations at this time. Faint- ing fits, accompanied with burning fevers, began also to seize me, f r I always had very bad health. But I was supported by having become, at this period, fond of good books. I read the " Epistles"* of St. Jerome, which encouraged me to such a degree, as to make me resolve to acquaint my fatner with my intention, which was for me almost the same as taking the habit ; for I was so nice about my word of honor, that it seems to me, when once I had given my word, I could never on any account withdraw it. But my father loved me so much, that I could not by any means gain his cotrsent ; neither was the entreaty of other persons, whom I induced to speak to him, of any avail. The most that I could obtain from him was, that after his death I might do as I pleased. I feared, however, my own weakness, lest I should fall back again ; and so I thought it better not to accept the condition, and therefore I endeavored to gain my object in another way, as I shall now relate. * " St. Jerome, when in Rome, had the care of many devout ladies, as Lea, Fabiola, Laeta, Paula, Eustochium, &c., to whom many of his most •difying and valuable letters are addressed. LIFE0F8T. TERESA. 59 CHAPTER rV. SHB BELATES HOW OUR LORD ASSISTED HER IN FORCING HERSELF TO TAKE THE RELIGIOUS HABIT, AND WITH HOW MANY inFIRMI- TIES HIS DIVINE' MAJESTY BEGAN TO AFFLICT HER. At this time, while I was continuing in the resolution mentioned above, I persuaded one of my brothers to become a religious, having spoken to him on the vanity of the world, &c. We both agreed to go very early one morning to the monastery where that friend of mine was, to whom I bore such a particular affection. My resolution, however, was now so great, that I would willingly live wherever I could serve God the best, or my father wished me to go ; for now I paid more attention to the welfare of my soul, and made no acoount of rest or ease. I remember (as far as I can call to mind, and without any concealment of the truth), that when I was leaving my father's house, I believe that at my death my feelings will not be greater than they were then ; for it seems to me, that every bone in my body was then disjointed ; and as I had no love of God to remove the love I had for my father and friends, all which I did then was with such great violence, that if our Lord had not helped me, my own considerations would never have been able to advance me forward : but he gave me such courage against myself, that I was enabled to execute my resolution. In taking the habit, our Lord immediately gave me to under- stand how much He favors those who do violence to them- selves in order to serve him ; though no one noticed any- thing in me but a most ardent desire (to enter on a religious life). He then gave me such feelings of delight, in having attained this state, as have never left me up to this day. He also changed that dryness in which my soul had formerly been, into an extreme tenderness, while all the observances of religion delighted me. It is likewise true, that sometimes when 1 was sweeping the floor — during the very time in which I used once to be occupied with dress and vanities, but that now remembering how 1 was free from them — a new joy was given to me ; so great, that I was amazed, and knew 60 LIFE OP ST. TERESA. not whence ifc came. When I remembered these things, nothing could present itself before me, however difficult, which I should not willingly have attempted ; for I now have experience in numerous cases to assure me, that since God helped me in the beginning to resolve to do what I have done. His Majesty will also be pleased, even in this life, to repay us by such means as he only can understand who en- joys them (and our actions being done only for the love of God, He ordains for our greater good afterwards, that our souls should be in some trouble and terror at first ; and the greater the trouble is, the greater and the sweeter will be the reward, if we persevere). This I have found true by experience (as I have said) in many important cases; and, therefore, if I were a person who could give an opinion, I would never advise any one, when a good inspiration often comes upon him, to throw it aside through fear of not being Me to put it into execution ; for if he go on solely and purely for God's sake, there need be no fear of success, since our Lord is powerful to do all things. May he be blessed forever. Amen. The favors which Thou, 0! my Sovereign Good, and repose of my soul, hast hitherto bestowed upon me through thy own goodness and greatness, ought to have been suffi- cient to have drawn me, by so many ways, to a secure state of life, and to a house where there are many servants of thine, from whom I could learn how to advance in thy ser- vice. But I know not how to pass on to anything else, when I remember the circumstance of my profession, and the strong resolution, and the great pleasure wherewith I made it, and the espousals I entered into with Thee : but of this I cannot speak without tears, even of blood ; with- out my very heart breaking (and this would not be any- thing sufficient to testify my grief), when I think how I offended Thee afterwards. It now seems to me, that I had reason before, in not desiring so great a dignity, since I should have made such a bad use of it. But Thou, my Lord ! wast pleased, during almost all the twenty years in which I abused this favor, to be the person insulted, in order that I might become better. It seems now, my God ! that I made no promise, except not to observe what I had LI FEOFST. TERESA. 61 promised Thee, though at that time my intention was not such. But I see that afterwards my actions were such, that I knew not what intention I had ; and thus it is more clearly seen who thou art, my Spouse I and who I am ! It is quite true, that the sorrow for my great sins is often tem- pered by the pleasure which this consideration gives Uie, viz., that my sins will only make more manifest the multitude of fchy mercies. For in whom, Lord, can they shine more brightly than in me^ who, by my evil actions, have so greatly obscured all the immense favors which Thou didst begin to show to me ? Alas for me, my Creator ! if I wish to make any excuse, T can find none ) nor can any one be blamed but myself; and if I should endeavor to return Thee any part of that love which Thou didst begin to show me, I could not centre it on any one except Thee, and thus every- thing would be remedied : but since I do not deserve this, nor ever had such a happiness, may Thy mercy now supply for all my deficiencies. My change of life and food began, at this time, to injure my health, for though the pleasure I experienced was great, it was not sufficient. Fits of fainting again began to in- crease on me, accompanied with such a violent palpitation of the heart, as amazed every one who saw me : I also had many other infirmities, and thus I passed the first year with very bad health, though during this period I think I did not offend God much ; but as my infirmity was so great, that it almost always nearly deprived me of my senses, and some- times entirely took them away ; so great likewise was the diligence used by my father, in seeking a remedy. Since, however, the doctors in the place could not find any relief for me, my father ordered me to be removed to a place which had a high reputation for having cured other persons of their infirmities, and so I was assured mine also would be cured. The friend of whom I spoke before as living in the house accompanied me, for she was advanced in years ; and in the monastery where she lived, no vows of enclosure were taken. I remained almost a year in this place, and during three months of it I suffered such excessive torments by the severe remedies applied, that I know not how I was able to endure 6 62 LIFE OP ST. TERESA. them ; and though I did endure them, yet it was not my body which bore them, as I shall now relate. This cure was to have commenced in the beginning of summer, and I went in the beginning of winter : all this time I remained in the house of that sister of whom I have spoken before, who lived in the country : I waited till April, being near the place, that so I might not be obliged to be going and coming to and fro. When I was leaving my nncle (whom I mentioned as having visited on the way), he gave me a book called " The Third Alphabet,"* which treated of the prayer of recollection. Now, though in the first year I had read some good books, and did not wish to read any others (for I already knew the harm they had done me) ; yet I knew not how to proceed in prayer, nor how to acquire recollection ; and so I was very glad to have this book, and was determined to follow that way (of prayer) to the best of my power ; and since our Lord was already pleased to bestow the gift of tears upon me, and as I delighted also in reading, I began to spend some time in solitude, and to *' confess" very often, and to commence following that path; as I considered this book to be my guide, because I could meet with no other master, I mean no director who could understand me, though I endeavored to find one for the space of twenty years after this time. This misfortune did me much harm, and often made me turn back, yea, even to lose myself entirely ; but a good director would have daily assisted me in flying those occasions, by which I offended God. In these beginnings. His Majesty began to confer on me such great favors, that at the end of the time I remained there in this solitude, (which was about nine months,) though I was not free froln offending God, having neglected what the book directed me to do, from an idea that such great watchfulness was almost impossible ; yet I was careful not to commit any mortal sin, and would to God I had been always so ; but of venial sins I made little account, and this was the fault which ruined me. But our Lord began to caress me so much in this way, (of prayer,) that He vouchsafed to give * Written by F. Ossuna. LIFE OP ST. TERESA. 63 me the favor of enjoying the " Prayer of Quiet,"* and some- times that of " Union," though I understood neither the one nor the other, nor how much they deserved to be prized ; but I think it would have been a great happiness for me if I had understood their nature. True it is, the " Prayer of Union " continued so short a time, that I know not if I could have repeated the " Ave Maria " during it ; yet the effects of the prayer which remained were so great, that though I was not then twenty years old, it seemed as if I could trample the whole world under my feet ; and so I remember to have had great pity for all those who follow its maxims and ways, though even in lawful things. I endeavored, to the best of my power, to represent our Lord Jesus Christ, who is our only good, as present within me ; and this was my method of prayer ; when I meditated on any action in His life, I represented it in my interior, though I spent the greater part of my time in reading good books, which was all the recreation I had ; for God did not give me the talent of discoursing with my understanding, nor of helping myself by means of the imagination, which is so dull, that even to think and represent within myself, (as I endeavored to do,) the Humanity of our Lord, was more than I could ever perform ; and although, if we persevere, we may more quickly arrive at " Contemplation," by being unable to exercise our understanding, yet the way is very laborious and painful, because if the occupation of the will be wanting, and our love should have no object present to occupy itself on, the soul is left, as it were, without any sup- port or exercise ] and solitude and dryness give her much trouble, and bring our thoughts into a most terrible combat. For persons who have this inclination, greater purity of conscience is necessary than for those who are able to ex- ercise themselves with their understanding ; because he who is able to reflect on what this world is— on what he owes to Crod — how much He suffered for him — and how little he serves Him, will thence derive matter to defend himself from improper thoughts and dangerous occasions. But he who * The Saint explains afterwards what is meant by the prayer of Quiet and Union. 64 LIFE OF ST. TERESA, cannot make use of this means is exposed to greater danger, and therefore he should spend much time in readings since from himself he is unable to draw any advantage. This method of proceeding is so very painful, that if the director who teaches him should urge him to pray without readings (which is of great help to a person who proceeds in this way, and is even necessary, though what he reads may be little, and is intended to supply the place of mental prayer, which he cannot practice ;) I repeat, if without this help his director should make him remain a long time in prayer, it will be im- possible for him to continue in it for any length of time : and besides, it will injure his health if he persist in it, for it is a very painful exercise. It now seems our Lord so ordered things, that I could not find any one to instruct me ; for it appears impossible to have endured my great dryness and afflictions during eighteen years, without being able to discourse with my understand- ing, as I have already mentioned. During all this time I never dared to pray without a book, except immediately after communicating, so that my soul was as much afraid to be without a book, as to fight against a multitude of people. But by this remedy I went on with much comfort, for it was like a guard of soldiers, or a buckler, on which the blows of many thoughts were to be received ; for this " dryness" was not usual with me, though it always came when I had no book ; and my soul became immediately disturbed, and my thoughts began to wander, but by reading I soon re-collected them ; and thus, as it were by flattery, my soul advanced on- ward. Often, by merely opening a book, I found I need do no more ; sometimes I read a little, and other times, much, according to the favors our Lord was pleased to show me. It seems to me, that if in these beginnings whereof I speak, I could have had books and opportunities of being in soli- tude, no danger could have deprived me of so great a good. I think, likewise, that it would have proved so by the favor of Grod, if I could have had a director, or some person who would have advised me to fly the occasion, (of sin,) in these beginnings, and to make me forsake them immediately, if I had fallen into them. And should the devil then have attacked me openly, I think I should on no account have been induced LIFE OFST. TERESA. 65 to offend God grievously. But the devil was so crafty, and I was so wicked, that all my resolutions availed me but little ; though the time I spent in the service of God was of great help towards enabling me to endure my terrible afflic-^ tions, which I bore with as great patience as His Majesty gave me. Often have 1 considered with amazement the great good- ness of God, and my soul has been enraptured in considering His magnificence and mercy 3 may He be blessed by all men, for I have clearly seen, that even in this life He has not failed to recompense me for every good desire. And, how- ever imperfect and wicked my works have been, yet my Lord continued to make them better and more perfect, thereby giving them worth and merit, while my sins and miseries He instantly hid, (from others.) Even the eyes of those who saw them. His Majesty allowed to be blinded, and their memory to fail. He gilds our faults, and causes that virtue to shine which the same Lord has placed in me, almost doing violence to me, that I may receive His favors. But now I wish to return to what my Superiors commanded me to mention. If I were to relate minutely how our Lord proceeded with me in these beginnings, I should require another understanding different from what I have, to be able to appreciate what I owe Him in this respect, and to publish my own wickedness and ingratitude, for He has forgotten all of it. May He be blessed forever, who has borne so much from me. Amen. 66 LIFEOPST. TEBBSA CHAPTER V. SHE CONTINUES TO RELATE THE PAINFUL INFIRMITIES SHE ENDURED, AND THE PATIENCE OUR LORD GAVE HER, ETC. I FORGOT to relate how, in the year of my noviciate, I snflPered great uneasiness of mind about things which, in them- selves, were of little consequence ; but as I was often blamed without having committed any fault, I bore it with much pain and great imperfection, though I endured everything, through the earnest desire T had to be a nun. When they Boticed that I sought after solitude, and sometimes shed tears for my sins, they fancied I was of a discontented disposi- tion, and they told me so. But I was most anxious to observe all the rules of the religious life ; I could not, how- ever, endure anything which had the appearance of bringing me into contempt, for I delighted in being esteemed ; I was curious about whatever I undertook, and everything appeared to me to be virtue, though this will not serve me as an ex- cuse, because I knew well how to obtain all those things which could give me pleasure ; and thus ignorance will not free me from blame. It was a defect that the monastery waa not founded in great perfection ; and as I was so wicked, J followed that which was imperfect, and omitted what wa^ good. At that time there was a Religious afflicted with a most grievous infirmity, which caused her great pain. There were ulcers in her body, which came from certain obstructions, so that she could not retain her food ; and therefore she soon died of her disease. Though I noticed that all the other nuns feared to have the like infirmity ; yet, for my part, I greatly envied her patience, and begged of God, that if He would give the like patience to me, He might send me what- ever infirmity He pleased. It seemed as if I feared no dis- ease whatever, for I was so bent on gaining eternal goods, that I resolved to purchase them, whatever they might cost me. At this I wonder, for even then I think I had no love for God ; though afterwards I believe I gained it, when I began to exercise myself in prayer ; and a light (from above| LIFEOF ST, TERESA. 67 showed me how contemptible everything is that has an end, and how inestimable those goods are which are eternal, and which can be obtained. His Majesty heard my prayer for such an affliction ; for before the expiration of two years, I became so afflicted, that though my disease was not of the same nature as the person's (above mentioned;) yet I think mine was equally painful and troublesome during the three years I endured it, as I shall now relate. The time having now arrived which I had been waiting for, my father, my sister, and that Religious who accompanied me, and had so much regard for me, removed me with great care to the place destined for my cure. Here the devil began to disturb my soul, though God drew good from it. There was a certain ecclesiastic who resided in the place where I went for my cure. He was of a good family, had a solid judgment, and was somewhat learned. I began to '' confess'* to him, for I was always fond of learned men, though those confessors who were only half-learned, did my soul much harm, because they had not the learning I desired. I have found by experience, that it is better for directors, who are virtuous, and full of holy manners, to have no learning at all, rather than little ; because, those who have none will not trust themselves without asking the opinion of others whf are learned, and neither could I trust them myself. But 1 was never deceived by any truly learned man; and eve^ those others had no desire of deceiving me ; but they erred only because they knew no better. I thought they wer« capable (of guiding me,) and that I was not bound to do any thing but to believe them ; as what they told me was in accordance with the general opinion, and gave me more liberty : if they had been more strict with me, I was so wicked, that I should have chosen other confessors. That which was a venial sin, they told me was none at all ; and that which was a most grievous mortal sin, I was assured was only a venial sin. This kind of doctrine did me so much harm, that I consider it necessary to mention this circum- stance here, in order to put others on their guard against so great an evil. I see clearly, that in the presence of God, this was no excuse for me ; for as the things were in their own nature bad, this ought to have been sufficient to have 68 LIFEOF ST. TERESA. preserved me from them. But I think that Almighty Godj on account of my sins, allowed my confessors to deceive me, and to he deceived themselves. And I also deceived many others, by telling them the very same things which had been told me. I continued more than seventeen years, I think, in this blindness, till a Dominican friar — a man of great learning — undeceived me in many things ; and the fathers of the "So- ciety of Jesus"* made me comprehend, how terrible my state was on account of such bad beginnings, as I will now relate. When I began to confess to this person (of whom I spoke above), he became extremely attached to me, because then I had but little to confess, in comparison with what I after- wards had ; indeed, I had not much from the time I became a nun. The affection of this man was not bad, though by being excessive it became evil. He knew well that I wat determined not to do anything grievously offensive to God, on any account whatever ; and he also assured me as much on his part ; and thus our conversation became frequent. But in the interviews we then held, I was so absorbed by the thoughts of God, that my greatest delight was to speak on subjects relating to Him ; and as I was then very young, he seeing this inclination made him somewhat ashamed. But on account of the great affection he bore me, he began to discover his misery to me ; and this was not small, for he had then been almost seven years in a very dangerous state, by reason of his affection for, and conversation with a cer- tain lady of the town ; and yet he continued to say mass. The thing was so public, that he had lost his honor and character, and yet no one ventured to speak to him on the subject. I was quite grieved to see in what a state he was, because I loved him much. But I was so possessed with folly and blindness, that it seemed a virtue in me to be grateful, and to keep on good terms with one who loved me. Cursed be such a law which proceeds so far as to be against * This is the first time our Saint mentioDs the Society of Jesus. We shall afterwards see how hi^ly she prized that illustrious order. St. Francis Borgia, when he came to Avila, had an interview with her, and assured her that her method of prayer came from God. LIFE OP ST. TERESA. 69 the law of God. It is a madness which now prevails in the world ; and it makes me almost lose my senses, to see how every good which men do to us we owe to God, and yet how we esteem it a virtue not to break off this friendship, even though it should lead us to do evil against Him. Oh, blindness of the world ! But be Thou pleased, Lord, that I may be the most ungrateful creature in the whole world, provided that I may not be, in the least point, ungrateful to Thee ! But by my sins I have done quite the contrary. 1 endeavored to gain more information concerning this person from the domestics of his house ; •! then became more acquainted with his misery, but saw that the poor man was not deserving of so much blame, because that unfortunate woman had used certain charms over him, by means of a little copper idol, which she begged of him to wear around his neck for her sake ; and no one had been ab5<5 to dissuade him from wearing it. For my part, I do not believe in the power of such charms as this, that it could affect one in any definite manner : but I will relate what I saw, m order that others may be on their guard against those women who may wish to act in the same manner, and to the erd they may believe, that when such characters lose all fear nf God (and they are more obliged to be chaste than men), no trust at all is to be reposed in them ; for provided that they have their own will and affection gratified — which the devil puts in them — they care for nothing. But though I have been very wicked, yet I never fell into any crime of thi^ sort, noi did I ever try to commit any evil ; and even if 1 had been able, did I ever force any one to love me, because God pre- served me from such an evil ; but if He had left 7«e to my- self, I should certainly have committed as many evil things in this respect, as I did in other matters, for there was no trusting me in any way. As soon as I heard the particu- lars of the case, I began to show him more affection : my intention indeed was good, but my action was bad, for I ought not to have committed the least evil to gain the 'greatest good. I discoursed very frequently with him <5on- cerning God, and this perhaps did him some good, th'^ngh I think that the great love he had for me influenced hin? t'j most; for in order to confer on me a favor, and tc give njt. 70 LIFEOFST, TERESA. pleasure, he gave me bis little idol, which I immediately con- trived to cast into the river. Being deprived of this, he be- gan to recover like one roused from a deep sleep, and to remember all that he had done during those years : he was amazed at himself, and so, bewailing his misery, he came by degrees to abhor it. Our Blessed Lady, without doubt, assisted him much, for he was very devoted to her Concep- tion, and that feast he alwavs celebrated with great joy. At length he broke off the habit of seeing this woman any more, and could never satisfy liimself with giving thanks to Almighty God for the light He had given him. But he died just upon that day twelvemonth after I had first seen him. He had already begun to serve God very fervently ; and though I never could perceive that the great affection he bore me was bad, yet it should have been more pure. But there was no want of occasions in which, if I had not kept myself in the presence of God, I might have committed very grievous offences against Him. Still, as I have already men- tioned, whatever I thought might be a mortal sin, 1 would not then have committed it; and this person, seeing such a disposition in me, was inclined perhaps to love me the more. All men, T believe, are more fond of those females who they see are inclined to virtue ; and even in those things in which they desire to succeed, they gain more influence over the men, as I shall afterwards declare. I consider it certain^ however, that his soul is saved, for he died very piously ; and having quitted so well the occasion, it seems our Lord' was pleased he should be saved by this means. In that place I remained three months, under the most grievous afflictions, for the cure was more severe than my constitution could endure, so that at the end of two months the medicines were so powerful that my life was almost en- dangered ; in addition to this, the palpitation of my heart, which I went to have cured, became so much more violent, that sometimes I thought my heart was torn with sharp teeth, and my friends were afraid I should lose my senses. To- gether with a great want of strength (for I could take no food whatever except it were liquid), with a violent loathing, a continual burning fever, and being aUo so reduced on ac- count of the purging medicine, which was continued for LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 71 almost a month, I was moreover so burnt up, that my nerves hegan to contract with a pain so insupportable, as to prevent me taking any rest day or night ; and during this period I was oppressed with a most profound sadness of mind. Having recovered so far, my father took me home again, where the physicians came to see me ; all despaired of my recovery ; for, besides my usual sickness, they said I was settled in a hectic fever. This, however, troubled me very little ; but my pains afflicted me the most, for I was full of them, from the crown of my head to my feet ; the pains arising from the nerves are intolerable — according to the testimony of doctors — especially when the nerves shrink up as mine did ; and certainly, if I had not lost the merit of patience through my own fault, my torment was great enough to have earned some. I did not remain more than threq months in this torture, for it seemed impossible to endure sg many afflictions together. I am now amazed at myself, an4i I consider as a great favor of our Lord, the patience whic\ His 'Majesty gave me, for it evidently came from Him. I gained much benefit from reading the History of Job, in the " Morals" of St. Gregory ; so that our Lord seems to have prepared me by this means, and also by my having com- menced the practice of Prayer, in order that I might be able to bear those trials with submission to His will. All my conversation was with Him : and often did I remember and repeat these words of Job : ^^ If we have received good things at the hand of God, why should we not receive evil ?" (Chap. xi. 10.) At length came the Feast of our Lady, in August ; for till then, from the April before, my pains had continued, though they were greater during the last three months. I then made haste to go to coufession, for I was always very fond of confessing often. My friends thought that I was influenced through fear of death ; and so that I might not be troubled thereat, wiy father would not let me confess. Oh, the inordinate love of flesh and blood ! for though I had so Catholic a father, and one too, who was so prudent, yet he might have done me a great deal of harm, for his conduct could not have been the effect of ignorance. That night I fell into a trance, which continued for about four 72 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. days, during which I had not the use of any of my senses. In this state I received the sacrament of Extreme tJnction; and every hour, and even every moment, was expected to be my last : my friends continued reciting the Creed, as if I understood them. At one time they considered me to be dead, so certainly, that afterwards I found drops of the wax- candles on my eyes. The affliction of my father was great, for not having allowed me to go to confession : many tears were shed, and many prayers offered to Grcd for me. Blessed he our Lord, who was pleased to hear them ; for though my grave remained open in the monastery for a day and a half, it being expected my body would be buried there ; and though the funeral service was performed by the friars of our order in another town, yet our Lord was pleased I should return to myself again : I immediately expressed a desire to confess. Having done so, I received the blessed Sacrament with many tears, though in my opinion they were not shed with a deep feeling of sorrow for having offended God ; for this might have helped to save my soul, if the error into which I was led by those who told me that some things wer-* not mortal sins, which afterwards I felt certain were so, had not proved injurious to me. The torments with which I was afflicted were intolerable, and my understanding was rather dull, though, as I thought, my confession was entire, having declared everything by which T feared I had offended God. This favor His Majesty vouchsafed to grant me among others, that after I had begun to communicate, I never omitted con- fessing anything which I thought to be a sin, even though it were venial. But yet I am almost certain that had I died then, my salvation would have been in great danger, be- cause on the one hand my confessors were so little instructed, v.nd on the other I myself was so wicked. It is most cer- tainly true, that when I think of this event in my life, and bow it seems as if our Lord raised me from death to life, I aaa filled with such great amazement, that almost my whole body trembles. It seems proper then, my soul, that thou shouldst consider the danger from which our Lord delivered thee ; and that as thou hast not avoided offending Him through love, thou mayest cease to do so through fear, for He might have taken away thy life a thousand times^ when LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 73 thou wert in a more dangerous state. I believe I should not be exaggerating were I to add a thousand times more though perhaps he may chide me, who commanded me to use moderation in the recital of my sins ; and yet I have represented them too favorably. But for the love of God, I beseech my Superior not to make me diminish my faults, because thereby the goodness of God will be seen, and what He suffered for a soul. May He be blessed forever, and may He annihilate me, rather than I should ever cease to love Him more and more. CHAPTER VI. SHE MENTIONS HOW MUCH SHE OWED OUR LORD FOR GIVING HER CONFORMITY TO HIS WILL IN SUCH GREAT AFFLICTIONS; AND HOW SHE ALSO CHOSE THE GLORIOUS ST. JOSEPH FOR HER PATRON, ETC. I REMAINED during these four days of the trance in such a state, that our Lord only can know the insufferable tor- ments I felt. I had bitten my tongue in several places j my throat, through my being unable to take anything, and by reason of the great weakness which oppressed me, could not swallow even a drop of water without choking me. It seemed as if I were entirely disjointed, and my head appeared ex- tremely disordered ; I was contracted like packthread, for in this consisted the torment I endured those days — without being able to stir either hand or foot, arm or head, unless I were moved ; so that I was like a person dead : I thought, however, I could move a finger of my right hand. No one could touch me in any way, for my whole body was so afflicted, that I could not endure to have it touched. I was removed about in a sheet, one person being at one end, and another at the other end ; in this state I continued till Easter. The only relief I had was this, that if I were not touched, my pains frequently ceased : and then, as I enjoyed a little ease, I considered myself to be well ; but I was afraid lest my patience should begin to fail, and therefore I was much pleased to see myself free from those sharp and continual 74 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. pains, though I still had a great loathing for food — in addl tion to extremely severe colds, produced by a double quar^, tan, which was insupportable. About this time I made such haste to return to the monas- tery, that I maDaged to have myself carried away just as i was. Though the sisters thought I was dead, tbey received me with a soul still in the body ; but the body was worse than dead, by reason of the pains they saw it had endured. I cannot descriLe my extreme weakness, for nothing was left but my bones ; and for more than eight months I remained in this state ; I was quite a cripple for almost three years, though still I was getting better. When I began to walk on all-fours, I gave thanks to God. But all these afflictions I endured with great resignation, and even with extreme de- light — except in the beginning — for I esteemed them all as nothing, in comparison with those pains and torments I en- dured at first. I was very resigned to God's will then, even though He should have left me in that state forever. I think that the reason why i was so anxious to recover was, that I might apply myself all alone to prayer in the way I had been instructed ; and in the Infirmary there was no means of doing this. I confessed my sins very often. I frequently spoke of God in such a way as to edify every one ; and, in- deed, they were amazed to see the patience our Lord had given me : for had it not cojne from the hand of His Majesty, it seems impossible I could have suffered so many afflictions with such great pleasure. Great indeed was the favor our Lord bestowed on me by giving me a method of prayer ; for thereby I came to under- stand what it was to love Him ; and from the little time I spent in it, I observed new virtues to spring up within me, though they were not strong, nor were they able to keep mo in the way of justice. I did not speak ill of any one in the slightest degree, for my ordinary custom was to avoid all kind of detraction, since I remembered that I should never wish nor say anything of any one, which I did not wish should be said of me. This I paid particular attention to on all occa- sions, though yet not so perfectly when occasions sometimes ofiered themselves of my breaking my rule • still it was my general practice. Those who were in my company, and who LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 75 spoke to me, I so earnestly persuaded to adopt tke custom, that it became natural to them. Hence it was understood, wherever I was, that all absent persons were secure ; ?.nd it was also the case with those who were my friends and rela- tions, or others whom I had instructed. And though in many things I shall have to give a strict account to God, yet I hope His Majesty may be pleased to pardon the bad example I gavo theoi — for I have been the cause of much evil, though it was not done with such evil intentions as those actions were whicii I committed afterwards. 1 was still desirous of solitude, and loved to discourse and to speak on God ; and if I could jfind any one to enter with me into the conversa- tion, that gave me more pleasure and recreation than all the polite conversation— or rather grossness — of the world. I also loved to communicate and to confess much more fre- quently, and to desire doing so. I became very fond of reading good books, and began to have such a deep sorrow for having offended God, that many times I remember I dared not pray, because I feared the excessive pain which I was sure to feel for having offended Him, as a severe punishment for my sins ) and this pain became afterwards so extreme, that I know not what to compare it to. This never happened to me, either more or less, through any fear I had, but only when I remembered those caresses our Lord granted to me in prayer, and what I owed Him for them ; and when I saw how ill I repaid Him, I could not endure the thought. I was also extremely troubled on account of the many tears I shed for my faults, when I perceived there was no amend- ment in me ; and that neither my resolutions, nor the pains I took not to fall any more when the occasions of sin were offered, were of any avail. My tears seemed to deceive me, and my fault appeared so much the greater, because I was convinced how great a favor our Lord bestowed on me in granting me those tears, and that great sorrow which I felt. I endeavored to confess often ; and it seemed to me that I did all I could in order to be restored to a state of grace. All the evil consisted in not pulling up the " occasions " by the root ; my confessors, too, helped me buo little : but had they told me of the danger in which I was, and of the obli- gation I lay under to break off those conversations, I am 76 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. convinced the evil would have been remedied ; for, on no ac* count could I have endured to remain, even one day, in mortal sin, had I known I was in that state. All these signs of the fear of God came to me through prayer ; and the greatest of them was, that I went on wrapt in love, and the punishment of sin I did not think of. All the time that I was sick, I kept a great guard over my conscience, as far as concerned mortal sins. But my God ! how much did I desire my health, in order to serve Thee better ! And yet this was the cause of all my misery. And now, when I saw myself a cripple, and so young too, and how the physicians of this world had treated me, I resolved to apply to heavenly physicians for my cure, which I still desired with much earnestness, though I bore my pains with joy. Sometimes I used to think, that if by recovering my health, I should be condemned to hell, it would be better for me to remain as I was; however, I thought I should serve God much better had I my health. Here is our error, in not entirely resign- ing ourselves to the will of our Lord, who knows what is the best for us. In the mean time, I began to get some masses to be said for me, and to make use ot* devotions that were very n.uch approved of; for I was never fond of certain other devotions, which some persons — especially women — went through with such ceremonies and forms as I could not endure ; I under- stood that they bordered on superstition, though they may have excited piety in some people. I took for my advocate and master the glorious St. Joseph, and I recommended my- self much to him ; for I saw clearly, that where my honor and the loss of my soiil were concerned, my father and master delivered me from that danger, as well as from others still greater : and this with more advantage than I could desire my- self. Up to this time, I cannot remember having asked him for anything which he did not obtain. I am quite amazed when I consider the great favors our Lord has shown 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 succor us in only one kind of necessity; but this glorious saint, I know by my experience, assists us in all kinds of LIFE OP ST. TERESA. 77 necessities : hence our Lord, it appears, wishes us to under- stand, that as He was obedient to him when on earth (for he was called His father ; and being, as it were, His tutor, he could command Him;) so now in heaven He grants him whatever he asks. This truth many others also have ex- perienced, who have recommended themselves to him by my desire : many are now devoted to him, and I myself have fresh experience of his power. T endeavored to celebrate his festival with all the solemnity I was able, but with more vanity than true devotion, as I desired it should be kept very properly and exactly, though yet my intention was good. But this was my fault : that whenever our Lord gave me grace to perform any good action, it was full of many faults and imperfections ; whereas, in the pursuit of curiosity, and vanity, and anything evil, I used great dexterity and diligence ; may our Lord pardon me ! Would that I could persuade all men to be devout to this glorious saint, by reason of the great experience I have had of the blessings he obtains from God. I have never known any one who was truly devoted to him, who performed par- ticular devotions in his honor, that did not advance more in virtue, for he assists in a special manner those souls who reoommend themselves to him. During many years I was acoustomed to ask some favor of him, and I remember it was always granted; and if sometimes my petition had something wrong about it, he rectified it for my greater good. Were I a person who had authority to write, I would gl^ly enlarge here, and relate, in detail, the favors which this glorious saint obtained both for me and others ; but in order that I may do no more than what I am commanded, I must be shorter in many things than I could wish, and more diffuse in other points than is necessary j in a word, I am like one who has but little discretion in doing anything which is good. I only request, for the love of God, that whoever will not believe me,, will prove the truth of what I say ; for he will see, by experience, how great a blessing it is to recom- mend one's self to this glorious patriarch, and to be devout to him. Those persons especially who are given to prayer should ever be devoted to him, for I know not how he can think of the Queen of Angels — at the time when she suffered 7* , 78 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. SO much on account of the child Jesus — and not give thanks to St. Joseph for the assistance he gave them. Whoever wants a master to instruct him how to pray, let him take this glorious saint for his guide, and he will not lose his way, God grant I may not have committed any error, in speaking as I have of such a saint ! For though I thus profess to be devoted to him, yet I have always failed in imitating his virtues ; but he acted like himself, by enabling me to rise, and walk, and to be no more a cripple ; and so I also acted like myself, by making so bad a use of this favor. Who could ever have supposed, that I should so soon have fallen back again, after His Majesty had begun to bestow some virtues on me ; after having received so many favors from Grod, which, of themselves, excited me to serve Him ; after I had seen myself as if it were dead, and in such dan- ger of being condemned to hell ] and after he had raised both my soul and body in such a manner, that all who saw me were amazed to behold me alive ? What a misery is it, my Lord! that we should live in such a dangerous life.' While I am now writing these lines, it seems I may say, by Thy favor and mercy, what St. Paul said : " I live now, not I, but Christ liveth in me," — though not with the same per- fection as he did ; and according to the experience which I have now had for some years, Thou still keepest Thy hand over me, and I find myself tilled with desires and resolutions (and in many things I have experienced this for a long time), not to do anything against Thy will, however small it may be, though I know I must commit many offences against Your Majesty without my knowing it. And it also seems, that nothing could be proposed to me which I would not resolutely perform for love of Thee ; and in some things Thou hast assisted me, so that I might succeed in them. I care not for the world, nor for the things of the wcrld j and 1 find that nothing whatever gives me any pleasure which does not come from you, and everything else seems a heavy cross. I may, however, easily deceive myself in this point ; and so I think I do, for I do not possess all that I have spoken of; but Thou knowest well, my Lord! that I do not lie — as far as I know. I fear, with much reason, lest^ LIPEOP ST. TERESA. 79 )erliaps5 Thou mayest leave me again, for I know now how far ny strength goes, and what little virtue I possess, in case Thou art not near, to bless me and to help me, that so I may lever desert Thee : and may thy Majesty grant, that I be lot already forsaken by Thee, while I am thus saying so nuch about myself! I know not how we can desire to live, since all things are so uncertain here. It appeared to me, Lord! impossible that I should entirely desert Thee; but since I have forsaken Thee so often, I cannot help fearing the like again, because wheff Thou retirest even a little from me, everything falls to the ground. Blessed be Thou for- ever; for although I forsook Thee, yet Thou didst not entirely forsake me, but didst give me Thy hand, that so I might rise up again ; and often, Lord ! I would not take hold of it, nor would I understand how frequently Thou didst call me again, as I will now relate. CHAPTER Vn. SHE SHOWS BY WHAT DEGREES SHE WENT ON LOSING THE FAVORS WHICH OUR LORD HAD SHOWN HER, AND HOW WICKED HER LIFE BEGAN TO BE. I BEGAN from one pastime to another, from vanity to vanity, and from one occasion to another, to cast myself very deeply into very great occasions ; and my soul became so disordered with many vanities, that I already grew ashamed to approach to God with that familiarity, such as frequent prayer requires ; and what helped me on to this was, that as my sins increased, the joy and delight which I had found in the exercise of virtue began to fail me. I now perceived very clearly, my Lord ! that these blessings were wanting to me, because I had first been wanting to Thee. This was the most terrible deceit which the devil could bring upon me, when I began to fear to practice men- tal prayer ; because I saw myself in so bad a way, that I thought it would be better for me to proceed as the multi- tude did — since I was one of the worst of sinners, and to pray only as much as I was obliged, and that but vocally ; ^0 LIFE OF ST, TERESA. since a person who deserved to be with devils should not make use of aientai Drayer, nor hold so close a communica- tion with God . and that I was only deceiving the world, because I had an outward appearance of virtue. But for this reason, the house wherein I lived did not deserve any blame, because by my cunning I managed that people should have 9 good opinion of me, though I did not act in this way purposely — to counterfeit piety ; for as regards hypocrisy and vain -glory, I thank God that I remember not to have offended Him therein — as far as I can perceive ; for, on the very first motion to commit that kind of sin, I felt so much trouble that the devil went away with loss, and I gained thereby ; and thus he tempted me but very little in this respect. If, however, God had allowed him to tempt me as strongly in this as he did in other things, I should have fallen into this sin also : but hitherto His Majesty has been pleased to preserve me, for which may He be forever blessed ! But I was rather much troubled, that they should have such a good opinion of me, considering what I knew of myself privately. The reason why they believed me not to be so wicked was, that they saw me retire — being so young — many times and on several occasions to solitude and to prayer. They noticed that I read much and prayed much, and spoke of God ; that I was fond of making pictures of our Saviour, and putting them up in many places *, of making oi*atories, and of placing there whatever tended to excite devotion j that I spoke ill of no one ; and other things of the like na- ture they observed, which bore an appearance of virtue ; and I knew well (so vain was I) how to gain esteem for myself in those things, which the world is accustomed to prize. By these observations of theirs, they allowed me as much, and even more liberty, than to the older religious women of the house : and they had great confidence in me, for as to my taking any liberties, or doing anything without leave, or even speaking with any one by night in holes or corners, was what I could never think of ; even so far as to talk of any such thing in a monastery I never did, because our Lord held me by His hand. It seemed to me (for I reflected much and attentively on many things), that to expose the honor of so many Beligious to chance, they being so good LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 83 md I SO wicked, would have been a very unworthy action in me. But why do I speak of my having avoided the com- mission of evil, as if other things which I did had been well clone ? The truth is, that the evil which I did was not done ^ith so much reflection as this would have required, though still it was too much. On this account, it seems to me, that not living in a monas- tery which was enclosed did me much harm, though those who were good might continue in it without any disadvan- tage, because they were bound to no more, not having made a vow of enclosure : but as for me, who am so wicked, I should certainly have been carried to hell, had not our Lord drawn me out of this danger by many especial favors and remedies ; and so I think that a monastery of women having such liberty, is very dangerous for them : in my eyes it seems to be more a road leading to hell those who desire to be wicked, than a remedy for their weakness. What I say does not refer to my monastery, for therein are so many who truly and with great perfection serve our Lord, that His Majesty (being so good) cannot fail to confer favors upon them ; and this monastery is not one of those which are most relaxed, for every kind of good discipline is observed in it : but I speak of other houses which I have seen and known. I say then that these excite my compassion, for the Religious have need of particular calls from our Lord — not once, but often — in order to be saved, considering how much the honors and amusements of the world are authorized there, and how little they understand the obligations which bind them. Grod grant that they may not consider as virtue, that which is sinful, as I myself often did ; and there is so much difficulty in making this understood, that it is necessary our blessed Lord himself should, in reality, put His hand to the work. If parents would take my advice (since they will not place their daughters where they may walk in the way of salvation, but rather where they will encounter more danger than if they were in the world), I would advise them to consider their own honor, and rather to marry them very meanly, than to place them in such monasteries — unless they be virtuously inclined : and God grant that even this may profit 82 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. ttem. If the parents do not like what I recommend, they might keep their daughters at home ; for if they wish to be wicked, they can keep it secret only for a short time ; but in the monastery, their wickedness may remain hidden for a long time, though in the end our Lord is accustomed to dis- cover it. But they hurt not only themselves, but all the others also ; and sometimes these poor creatures are noi to be blamed, because they only do that which they find prac- ticed. It is a pity to see how many, who desire to separate themselves from the world, and to avoid its dangers, think- ing that they go to the monastery to serve God, do, never- theless, find themselves cast into ten worlds, where they know not what to do, nor how to help themselves. Youth, and sensuality, and the devil incline them to follow some things, which belong to the world, and so they come to con- sider them good. In this respect methinks they are like those unhappy heretics, who wish to blind themselves, and then persuade themselves that those opinions which they follow are sound ; and so they believe them to be true, though in reality it is not the case, for they have somethings within them which tells them they are wrong. O the misery, the extreme misery, of those Religious (and 1 speak now of men as well as women), among whom discipline is not ob- served, and where in the same monastery two different ways are kept : one, the way of virtue and discipline ; and the other quite the opposite, though both are considered almost alike — or rather, I should say, just the same. On account of our sins, it happens that we walk along that way which is the most dangerous ; and as the greater number go along it, this makes the road more agreeable to us. Thus so little is true religion observed, that both religious men and women, who wish to commence in earnest to follow their vocation, have more reason to fear the very persons with whom they live, than even the devils themselves : and they are obliged to be more cautious in speaking of the love which they ought to have for God, than of those friendships and affections which the devil introduces into these monasteries. I see no reason, then, why we should be astonished on beholding so many evils in the Church, since those who ought to be patterns of virtue to others, have allowed the spirit of their holy LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 83 founders to be extinguished in them. May God apply such a remedy as He sees necessary. Amen. In the meantime, when I began to use such conversations as these, I little thought that so great distractions and other damages would come to my soul by such kind of acquaint- ances, since I saw they were so much used by others ; and I conceived, that so general a thing as it is to make visits, in many monasteries, would be no greater prejudice to me than it was to others whom I knew to be good. But I considered not that those others were much more virtuous than myself; and that those things which were of greater danger to me, were not, perhaps, so very dangerous to them ; though yet I fear there must be some danger; and, at best, I am quite sure that it is no better than time very ill spent. Being once with a certain person, our Lord was pleased to give me to understand, in the very beginning of our acquaintance, that such friendships would in no way be profitable to me ; for Christ our Lord represented Himself before me with great severity (in His countenance), and gave me to under- stand how much He was disgusted at my conduct. I saw Him only with the eyes of my soul, but yet much more dis- tinctly and more ckarly than I could possibly have done with the eyes of my body : and He remained so deeply im- printed there, that although this happened to me above twenty-six years ago, methinks He is still as present to me now as he was then. I became so altered, and was also so astonished, that I intended to see that person no more. It did me a great deal of harm that I knew not, at the time, it was possible for one to see anything but with the eyes of the body ;^ and the devil was careful enough to make me con- tinue in that erroneous opinion, and to make me still be- lieve it was impossible, and therefore that I had but fancied these things to myself, and that perhaps it might be a delu- sion ; though I was still convinced it was God, and no delu- sion at all. But, because it was against my inclination, I tried to deceive myself; and as I durst not confer with any one about the matter, though greatly importuned to do it, assuring myself that there could bo no evil m seeing such a person, and that there would be no loss, but rather gain by it, I returned to the same conversation, and even on some 84 LIS'E or ST. TERESA. occasions to others ; and for many years I took this pestilen- tial recreation \ and being once engaged in it, it seemed to me not to be so very bad as it indeed was, though some- times I perceived clearly enough that it was not good. But yet no other conversation distracted me so much as this did, on account of the great affection I had for the person. Another time, when I was in company with the same indi- vidual, both of us saw coming towards us (and there were others also present who saw it), something in the shape of a great toad, which passed on with much greater speed than such animals usually do. I could not understand how such a filthy beast could get into the room, through that part whence it came, and even at noon- day; such a thing had never been seen there before. The effect which this appear- ance wrought in me seems not to have been without some mystery, and it was an event which I could never forget. Oh, Greatness of God ! with how much care and pity didst thou admonish me in so many ways, and how little was the profit I derived thereby ! There was in this house a certain elderly nun, a great servant of God, and who was a relation of mine : she some- times gave me good advice ; but I not only not believed her, but I was even disgusted with her, thinking she was offended with me without cause. All this I relate here, in order that both my wickedness and the great goodness of God may be the better understood, and that it may appear how well I deserved hell for my ingratitude : and another object I also have, that if our Lord should so ordain, and should be pleased that any religious women should read this discourse, they may take warning by me. I beg of them, for the love of our Lord, that they will fly from such recreations as these ; and I beseech His Majesty, that some of those whom I have de- ceived may be disabused, for I told them there was no harm in those things ; and (being in great blindness at that time) I assured them also there was no danger ; and, as I have be- fore said, by the bad example which I gave them, I was the cause of much harm to them, though I thought I was doing no harm at all. While I was yet very infirm in those first days, before I knew how to help myself, I conceived an extreme desire to LIFEOFST.TEKESA. 85 do others good, which is a very common temptation for be- ginners, though it happened to succeed well with me. As 1 loved my father very dearly, I desired he might receive the same benefit which I thought I had gained myself, by means of mental prayer ; and being of opinion, that in this life there was no greater blessing than to practice such kind of prayer, I began, by indirect discourses, to try all in my power that he might obtain it, and for this object I gave him some books. Being so virtuous a man, as I have already men- tioned, he applied himself so diligently to this exercise, that within five or six years he advanced so much, that I blessed our Lord very much for the favor, and it gave me the greatest consolation. The troubles he endured were various and very severe, all of which he endured with mUch con- formity (to God's will). He often came to see me, and de- rived great comfort by speaking on holy things. But when now I was living in such distraction that I left off* mental prayer, and as I saw that he still thought me to be the very same that I had been before, I was not able to endure this without undeceiving him. I had passed a year and more without prayer, thinking it was more humility in me to ab- stain, which was the greatest temptation I ever had, as I shall afterwards mention, for by this means I ran headlong towards my total ruin 5 whereas, when I practiced prayer, if I offended God one day, I recollected myself the next, and removed myself farther from the occasion. Wherefore, as my good father came when I was in this state, thinking that I still conversed with God, as I formerly had done, it was too much for me to see him so greatly deceived ; and so I told him that I no longer used mental prayer, though I did not mention the cause. I alleged, however, my infirmities as the obstacle ; for although I had recovered from my severe illness, still I always had afflictions, and very great ones too ; of late years they were not indeed so violent and painful, but they failed not still to continue in many ways. For twenty years together, in particular, I had vomitings every morning to such a degree, that I could never break my fast till noon was over — yea, and sometimes later. That I am now able to receive the blessed Sacrament more frequently proceeds from this cause — that these vomitings come on at 8 86 LIPB OF ST. TERESA. night before I go to bed, and then they give much more pain, for I am obliged to hasten them by means of feathers and other tliinjsjs ; because if I have not these vomits, the pain which I feel is extreme. But I think I am seldom or ever without many pains, and sometimes these are very sharp, especially at my heart, though still all my sickness, &c., which used to come upon me so thickly, now come only sel- dom — such as the dreadful palsy, and other fevers, which tised to attack me, so that now I often find myself in good health. But I have made so little account of these sufferings /or the last eight years, that sometimes I am even glad I have them, thinking that our Lord may be soniewhat served thereby. As my father believed that this was the cause of my omission, and as he never told an untruth himself, he had no reason to think but that I told the truth, considering on what subject I was then discoursing with him. And that he might believe me the more, I told him also that I had enough to do to be able to assist in the choir (though I saw clearly this was not a sufficient excused, to make me omit such a practice, since for such an action there is no need of corporeal strength, but only of love and habit, because our Lord will always give us an opportunity ^ if we ourselves have the will and inclination. I say, " always^^^ because, though infirmities and other causes may sometimes hinder one from spending many hours in solitude, yet we shall have some other times wherein we may have health enough for being in solitude, and even during the same sickness ; for, on such occasions, the best prayer may be made (since it is the soul which loves), by offering up our pains to Grod ; by reihem- berini^ for whose sake they are endured; and by conforming ourselves to His will, and in a thousand other ways that may offer themselves. Thus we may exercise our love ; for there is no necessity, either for one to be in solitude, or to use mental prayer at all. If we take a little care, we may obtain great blessings, even when our Lord takes away from us opportunities for prayer, by sending us sickness : and I myself found this to be true, as long as I kept my conscience pure. But my father, through the opinion which he had of me, and the love he bore me, not only believed all I said, but pitied me. As he now found himself raised to such a^? LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 87 eminent degree of prayer, he did not remain very long with me, considering his stay to be loss of time, and therefore he returned home. Being desirous of spending my time on other vanities, I was little troubled at his departure. But I not only persuaded him, but others also, to apply themselves to prayer, even while I was in the midst of these vanities ; as I found them fond of vocal prayer, I told them how to make use of meditation, and gave them books and did them good, for I still had a desire that v^thers should serve God, even from the time that I began to practice mental prayer, as I before mentioned. It seemed to me, that as I did not serve our Lord so well as I should, I was desirous tnat the light which His Majesty had bestowed upon me might not be lost, but that others should serve Him by my means. I relate this here to show the great blindness in which I was, which exposed me to the danger of losing myself, while I was endeavoring to do good to others. About this time my father fell ill of the sickness of which he died, and which continued only a few days. I went to attend him, being more sick in my soul than he was in the body, on account of my numerous vanities, though not to such a degree as to think I was in mortal sin, even in the worst time of my wickedness ] for, certainly, if I had thought so, I would never have continued therein. 1 suffered much during his illness, and I think, in some slight way, I made up for the trouble he took with me when I was ill. Though very unwell then, I endeavored to assist him all I could ; for I reflected how in losing him, I should lose all my joy and comfort, for in him I placed them. But I animated myself in such a way as not to show him I was in any pain, and con- tinued till he expired as if I felt no trouble at all ; though when I saw him on the point of death, it seemed as if my soul had been torn from my body, for I loved him much. The death of my father caused me to praise our Lord, to- gether with the desire he had to die, and the good counsels he gave us after he had received extreme unction ; and how he charged us to recommend him to God, and to beg for mercy for him, exhorting us always to serve Him, and to con- sider how everything comes to an end. He told us also, with tears, how very grieved he was at not having served God better, 88 jlilFE OF ST. TERESA. and that he wished he had been a E-eligious in the strictest Order that existed. I consider it certain, that, some fifteen days before, cur Lord gave him to understand he was to die ; because before that time he did not think himself very ill, though he was so m reality ; but afterwards, though he seemed to grow better- and the doctors told him so, yet he paid no attention to them, but only thought of putting his soul in order. His sickness began with a very grievous pain in his shoulders, which never left him, and sometimes it was so severe that he suffered exceedingly. I told him that since he had been so devoted to that part of our Lord's passion in which He carried His cross, he should consider our Lord was pleased that he should feel something of what He himself then suffered ; and he was so comforted by this thought, that I do not remember to have heard him complain any more. For three days he seemed to have lost his reason ; but, on the day he died, our Lord restored it to him so entirely, that we were all amazed thereat : and so he continued reciting the Creed, and when he came to the middle of it he expired. When he was dead, he looked like an angel ; and such, in my opinion, he was (so to speak), both in soul and disposition : this latter was extremely good. I do not know why I have spoken so much of him, unless it be tu condemn my own wickedness, inasnmch as, after having witnessed such a death, and known he led such a life, T ought to have reformed mine, so as to have in some degree resembled my father. His con- fessor, who was a Dominican, and a very learned man, asserted that he had no doubt my father would go straight to heaven ; for he had been his confessor for many years, and spoke much of the purity of his conscience. This Dominican father, being a very worthy man, and a true servant of God, did me a great deal of good, for I "con- fessed " to him : he undertook the care of my soul with great diligence, and made me understand the way of perdition, in which I was walking. He also made me communicate every fifteen days ; and when I spoke to him about the nature of my prayer, he told me I must not fail to use it, for that I could not in any way practice it without deriving advantage. I began, therefore, to use it again ; and from that time forward I never left it off, though I did not then quit the occasions LIFE OF ST, TERESA. 89 of sin. In the mean time T passed a most miserable life, for in my prayer I came to know my faults ; God called me on the one hand, and on the other the world ; all the things of God gave me great pleasure, but the vanities of the world held me in chains ; and it seems 1 had a desire to reconcile these two contraries, which are such enemies one to another, viz., a spiritual life, and the pleasures and pastimes of the worldo In prayer I endured great affliction, because my soul was not master, but a slave j and thus I was unable to retire within my heart (which was my method of proceeding I formerly used in prayer), without at the same time shutting up with me a thousand vanities. In this way I passed several years, so that I am now astonished how it happened that I did not correct my faults, or that I did not abandon prayer. I know well that it was no longer in my power to abandon prayer, for He held me in His hands who had resolved to do me greater favors. Oh ! that I could declare the occasions of doing ill, which God removed from me in those years, and how I put myself again into them ; that I could mention the danger I was in, from which he delivered me, of losing all my reputation ; how I endeavored to discover by my actions what kind of a creature I was, and how our Lord concealed my faults, and made me know the little virtue I possessed, — if indeed I had any at all, — so tliat it appeared great in the eyes of all men, in such a way that they always esteemed me much. For though my vanities sometimes shone through my actions, yet, as they noticed other things in me which appeared good, they would not believe my wickedness. But the cause of this was, that He who knoweth all things saw this was necessary, in order that when afterwards I should exhort persons to devote themselves to His service, they might give me some credit. His sovereign goodness did not so much consider my great sins, as those desires which I sometimes felt to serve Him, and the great trouble I experienced in not having strength to execute them. But, thou Lord of my soul ! how shall I be able to ex- press with gratitude the favors Thou didst bestow on me during these years? And how, at the very time I was offending Thee most. Thou didst in a short time dispose me for a most t)rofound sorrow, that so I might enjoy Thy favors 8* 90 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. and consolations. The truth is, my King ! Thou didst adopt as one means, the most exquisite and sharp kind of punishment which could be found for me : for 'i hou knewest well what would prove most afflicting to me, viz. — that my sins should be punished by receiving sorrow from Thee! It is no foolish thing which I utter, though one should not be surprised if I became foolish, when I recall the memory of my ingratitude and wickedness against Thee. But it was much more grievous for me to receive favors, when at the same time I was committing great faults, than it would have been to have endured severe punishments : hence, even one of those favors received seems capable of confounding and afflicting me, more than many corporal infirmities and other troubles united. As to the latter, I saw that I deserved them, and I thought I had made some satisfaction by them for my sins, though all indeed were but little, considering the multitude of my sins. But to see myself again receiving fresh favors, though I made such a bad return for those I had received before, was a most terrible punishment for me : and I think it will be considered so by all who have any knowl- edge or love of God. Hence flowed my tears and came my indignation, seeing what I found in myself, that I was still on the point of falling again, though my desires and resolutions: were then firm — I mean as long as the favors lasted. It is a great misfortune for a soul to be alone amidst such dangers ; and methinks if I knew any one to whom I could have spokeo on -^hese matters, it would have helped me from not falling again : at least, I should have been prevented through shamej^ even had I no shame in offending Grod. Those, therefore, who make use of mental prayer, es- pecially at the beginning thereof, would do well to be on terms of friendship and familiarity with other persons who practice this kind of prayer ; for this is very important, though it should serve no other purpose than to be assisted by each other's prayers, and how much more so when so many advantages are to be gained ! And if in the commerce and intercourse of the world, though vain and useless it be, we endeavor to procure frieuds to. assuage our sorrows, and to make us enjoy ourselves the lunre by the recital of our vain pleasures, I do not see why they who begin to love and LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 91 eerve God in earnest, should not be permitted to communicate to some one their joys and their sorrows — for those who practice prayer, experience both. For if he be sincere who desires to be in friendship with His Majesty, he need not fear vain-glory : and should he be attacked by any temptations thereto, he will come off with merit. I believe that whoever shall, with this intention, speak to others on such matters, will both profit himself and those who hear him, and will also become more enlightened in his understanding, as well as more skilful in instructing his friends. He who should be exposed to vain-glory when thus speaking, would also be exposed whenever he is seen devoutly to hear Mass, and by doing other things likewise which he is bound to do — under pain of not being a good Christian : and yet these things must not be omitted, through fear of vain-glory. This point is of such great importance for the welfare of all those souls who are not yet strengthened in virtue (as there are so many adversaries, and even friends, ready to excite them to evil), that I know not how to express its im- portance. It seems to me, that the devil has made use of this device — as being something very advantageous to him — viz., that men should as carefully hide themselves from those who understand them, and who sincerely endeavor to make them love and please God, as he (the devil) has induced others to discover their evil inclinations to each other j and this latter practice is now so common, as to pass for a kind of gallantry — and thus men publish the offences which, by this means, they commit against God. I know not if what I say be nonsense ; if it be, I trust your Reverence will tear it up ; but if not, I beseech you to assist my simplicity, by adding much of your own experience to the subject. For divine things are now so little attended to, that they who desire to serve God have need of each other's help in order to advance in virtue ; so very much in fashion are the vanities and pleasures of the world, that few see any evil in them. But whenever any one begins to give himse& to God, so many^ blame him, that he will find it necessary to seek for some one to defend him, until he shall become strong enough not to be uneasy under suffering ; but should he be sorrowful, he may himself fall into great 92 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. difficulties. This, perhaps, may be the reason why some saints have retired into deserts. But as it is a part of humility not to put any confidence in one's self, so we should >)elieve that God will not fail to help us to live among those with whom we are obliged to converse. And thus charity will increase by being communicated ; and there are a thou- sand other benefits, of which I should not dare to speak, had I not great experience of their importance. True it is, that I am both the weakest and the most wicked of all creatures : but yet I believe, that whoever will humble himself — though he be strong — and not trust in himself, but in one who has experience in these matters, will not lose anything. Respect^ ing myself, I am able to say, that it our Lord had not dis- covered this truth to me, and had not also given me means to treat, in a very familiar manner, with persons who were given to mental prayer, I should still have gone over — ^falling and rising — till I had fallen headlong into hell. For I had many friends who would have helped me to fall : but in en- deavoring to rise up again, I found myself so much alone, that now I am astonished I did not always remain in a fallen state. I praise the mercy of God, for He alone it was who gave me a helping hand : may he be praised forever and ever. Amen. CHAPTER Yin. 8HE MENTIONS WHAT GBEAT GOOD HER SOUL KECETVED BY NOT HAV- ING ENTIRELY GIVEN UP HER METHOD OF PRAYER! ALSO, WHAT AN EXCELLENT REMEDY PRAYER IS FOR GAINING WHAT WE HAVE LOST. Not without reason have I been considering so long this life of mine ; for I clearly see that it will give no pleasure to any one, to look upon such a wicked creature as myself. And really I should be glad that all those who read this ac- count would abhor me, in seeing a soul so obstinate and so ungrateful towards Him, who has bestowed so many favors on her. And I wish I could obtain leave to declare the many times I failed, during this period, in my obligations to God, because I was not supnorted by this strong pillar of LIFEOP ST. TERESA. 93 mental prayer. I passed though this tempestuous sea almost twenty years, between these fallings and risings (though I rose very imperfectly, since I fell again so quickly) ; and in this kind of life, which was so far below perfection, I made almost no account of venial sins ; and for mortal ones, I feared them it is true, but not so much as I ought to have done, since I did not avoid the dangerous occasions. I can declare, that this was one of the most painful kinds of life which can be imagined, for I neither enjoyed the sweet- ness of God, nor the pleasures of the world. When I was entertaining myself with the amusements of the world, the Temembrance of what I owed to God gave me pain ; and when I was conversing with Him in prayer, the affections I had for the world disturbed me ; and this was a conflict so very painful, that I know not how it was possible for me to endure it for one month, much more for so many years. Herein I clearly see the great mercy God showed me, that, dealing so much as I did with the world, I could still have the courage to apply myself to mental prayer. I say " cour- age," because I see not one thing in the world in which there seems to be need of greater, than to be carrying on treason against a King, and to be sensible that He knows it well, and yet never to depart from His presence. For though it be true, that we are always in the presence of God, yet, me^ thinks that they who converse with Him in mental prayer, are in a special manner in His presence, because then they see that He regards them ; whereas others may remain some days in His presence, without remembering that He looks upon them. True it is that within this time there were, I believe, many months, and sometimes perhaps a whole year, that I kept myself from offending our Lord 5 and I gave my- self much to prayer, and I used some, and even great diligence, that I might never offend Him more ; and this I here declare, because what I write now is to be delivered with truth ; but I remember little of those good days, and therefore it may be thought they were few, and the evil ones many ; yet few days passed without my giving a considerable time to prayer, unless I were very sick, or extremely busy. The more ill I was, the more was I united with God ; and I endeavored that those persons who were then with me might 94 LIFBOPST. TERESA. be so too ; and this I begged of our Lord, and "we spoke very often of Him. And so, with the exception of that one year of which I have spoken, during the eight-and-twenty years which have passed since first I began to use mental prayer, I have endured this battle and strife for more than eighteen, through conversing with God and the world at the same time. In those other years of which I have yet to speak, the cause of the war was changed, though this has not been inconsiderable. But as I was then, I think, in the ser^ vice of God, and had a knowledge of the vanity of the worlds all was sweet and pleasant, as I shall declare afterwards. Now the reason why I have given this account is, first, in order that the mercy of God and my ingratitude towards Him may be discerned as I have betore mentioned ; and secondly, that it may be understood how great a blessing God bestows on that soul, which He disposes to practice mental prayer with a good will, even though she were not so well prepared for it as she should be. But if she persevere therein, whatever sins she ii;ay commit, whatever temptations may be presented to her, or whatever falls she may receive in a thousand different ways from the devil, I consider it certain that our Lord will, in the end, bring her safe to the port of salvation, as (it seems now) He has done so to me; may His Majesty grant that I may never again expose myself to Le lost. Many holy and good men have written on thod the owner gives them from the pigeon-house, without leir laboring for it, go and seek some elsewhere, but finding I not good, they soon return ; and thus they come and go ) see if the will might give them any part of that which , enjoys : and if our Lord should be pleased to cast them )me food, they stay ; if not, they go away again to seek )r it. It is thus that these faculties act with regard to the ill, thinking they are of some use to it ; but sometimes the lemory and imagination injure it, by wishing to represent ) it the happiness it enjoys : let the will then act towards lem in the way I shall mention afterwards. Whatever happens in the Prayer of Quiet is accompanied ith very great consolations, and gives so little trouble, that owever long it may last it never tires the soul, because the nderstanding only acts at intervals, though it draws much lore water than it drew from the well. The tears which rod gives it then are tears of joy, which, though we feel, we rocure not. This water, the source of great blessings and Ivors which our Lord gives us therein, makes our virtues icrease incomparably more than in the first degree of prayer, ecause the soul now begins to rise out of her misery, and * The will^ memory, and understanding. 136 LIFE OP ST. TERESA. to have some small glimpse of the joys of eternal glory ; and this, I think, makes her increase the more in virtue, because she approaches nearer to that true power whence all virtues come, that is, God. Then His Majesty begins to communi- cate Himself to this soul, and He wishes her to feel how he communicates Himself. When she has arrived at this point, she immediately begins to lose all appetite for the things of this world, and to despise them, because she sees clearly that even one moment of these pleasures cannot be purchased here below ; and that no riches, nor dominions, nor honors, nor delights are capable of giving such pleasures, even for one instant, because the pleasures are true^ and we feel that they satisfy us. With regard to the pleasures of the world, it seems even a wonder to me that we can tell in what their enjoyment consists, because " Yes and No" are never want- ing : but in the other pleasures, everything is " Yes" all the time : " No" comes in afterwards ; for then she sees that the matter has come to an end, and that she cannot recover it again, nor does she know how. And though she should almost kill herself with doing penance and praying, and using all other means, yet all would be of little use unless our Lord was pleased to grant the favor. But God, for the sake of His greatness, is pleased this soul should now understand, that His Majesty being so very near her, there is no need of sending any messengers to her, but only for she herself to speak with Him, though not by word of mouth, because be- ing so near her. He understands her even by the very move- ment of her lips. It may appear unnecessary for me to speak in this manner, fiinc'e we know well that our Lord always hears us, and is always with us : there can be no doubt of this truth. But our Lord and Emperor wishes we should here understand that He knows us, and that we should feel the effects of His presence ; that He particularly wishes to begin to work in our soul by giving her a great interior and exterior satis- faction, and by showing her the difference there is (as I have declared) between those heavenly delights and the pleasures of the world ; for the former seem to fill up the void which our sins have made in the soul. And this satisfaction re- sides in the most intimate part of the soul, and she knows LIFE OP ST. TERESA. 137 not whence nor how it has come ; and often she knows not what to do, nor what to desire, nor what to ask for. Therein she seems to find all good things united together, though she knows not what she has found, nor do I know how to make her state understood; for many things learning would he necessary, in order to make those who are ignorant under- stand, that there are general helps and particular helps ; and that by the latter our Lord wishes the soul to see Him almost as it were with her own eyes, and to see many other things also, which cannot be properly expressed by me. But as proper persons are to see what I write, and to examine if there be any errors in it, I do not feel so uneasy because it will go into the hands of those who will understand the mat- ter, and who will blot out whatever has been incorrectly ex- pressed ; and I know that through want of learning and piety I may easily be found fault with. I wish, however, to explain myself, because a soul to whom <3-od begins to show these favors, as soon as she applies her- self to prayer, does not understand them, nor does she know what to do with herself. If God should conduct her along the path of fear, as He has conducted me, she will experience great affliction, unless she meet with some one who can un- derstand her ; then her joy will be abundant to see herself well described, and she will know clearly that she is walk- ing along the right road. It is also a great blessing to know what one ought to do in each of these degrees, that so we may go on with profit ; for I myself suffered much, and lost a great deal of time, because 1 knew not what to do. I have, therefore, great compassion for those souls who find themselves alone when they have arrived at this point ; for though I have read many spiritual books which treat on this subject, yet it is explained in a very obscure manner ; and hence, unless the soul be properly exercised in prayer, she will find it difficult to understand them, though they may explain the point at some length. I am very desirous our Lord would grant me the favor to relate the efiFects which are produced in the soul by these things, when they begin to be supernatural, that so she may know when these effects come from the Spirit of God. When I say, " that she may know," I mean as far as we can under- 12* 138 LIPJE OF ST. TERESA. Stand in this world, though we shall always do well to walk on with fear and circumspection ; for though these effects come from God, yet sometimes the devil can transform him- self into an angel of light ; and if a soul be not well ac- quainted with prayer, she will not understand this stratagem ; indeed, to understand it properly, she must have arrived at the highest degree of prayer. The little time I have to spare gives me but little help, and therefore it is necessary for His Majesty Himself to assist me ; for I must be engaged with the community, be- sides being occupied with many other things. I am also at present living in a house which has only just commenced, as I shall afterwards mention. I am writing, therefore, with- out having any repose, and only by little and little ; but I wish I had more leisure ; for when our Lord helps us by His grace to do a thing, it is always done better, and with more facility ; for then it seems as if we had a pattern before our eyes, which we have only to follow. But when the Divine Spirit is not with us, then we no more understand this language than if it were gibberish (as the expression is), although we have spent many years in prayer. Hence it seems a very great advantage for me to be in prayer when I write ; for then I see clearly it is not I who speak, nor does my understanding direct me, so that after I have written I could not tell how I wrote : this has happened several times. Let us now return to our garden, and consider how these trees begin to bud and to flower, that afterwards they may give fruit; and how the pinks and other flowers bloom and diffuse a sweet smell. This comparison pleases me much ; for often in my beginnings — I mean at the commencement of my life, as I shall mention afterwards (and may our Lord grant that now I may have begun to serve His Majesty),— it was a great delight for me to consider my soul as a gar- den, in which our Lord walked up and down. I besought Him to increase the odor of those little flowers of virtue, which seemed wishful to bud, that so they might contribute to His honor and glory ; and that He would support them, since I desired nothing for myself, and would prune them as He pleased, for I already knew they would grow the bet* LIFE OP ST. TERESA, 139 ter afterwards. I said, I besought Him to " prune" them, because at certain periods the soul has no remembrance oiP this garden, but everything seems to be so withered, as if no water would come any more to refresh it, and as if there never had been any virtue at all in the soul. Thus she suf- fers much affliction, because our Lord wishes the poor gar- dener to think, that all the care is lost which he had em- ployed in watering and taking care of his garden. Then, however, is the time truly to cut up by the root those small weeds which had hitherto remained in the soul, by making us understand that no diligence of ours will avail, if God take away from us the water of His grace, that so we may not esteem our nothingness — or, rather, our less than no- thingness. Hereby great humility is gained, and the flowers bloom with fresh beauty. Thou, my Lord and Sovereign Good ! — (and I know not how to utter these words without tears, and without feeling great pleasure in my soul) — how desirous Thou art to be thus amongst us ! And Thou art also in the Blessed Sacrament, which may most truly be be- lieved, because Thou hast said so : and with great truth also we can make this comparison ; for if no fault on our part prevent us, we can enjoy ourselves with Thee ! And Thou art likewise pleased to be with us, since Thou hast said, " My delight is to be with the children of men." my Lord, what mean these words'? Whenever I hear them, they always give me great consolation ; and so it was even when I was very wicked. Is it possible, Lord ! there should be any soul which, after having received such favors and blessings from Thee, and having understood it was Thy delight to be with her, should again offend Thee — after all these favors, and so many great proofs of the love Thou bearest her, as to leave no doubt it is so, since it is manifest by the effects 1 Yes I it is certain there is such a soul who has offended Thee, not once but often — and this is myself. I be- seech Thy goodness, Lord, that I may be the only soul who has been guilty of such base wickedness, and such ex- cessive ingratitude, though even from this my wickedness, Thy infinite goodness has been able to draw some advantage ; and the greater my misery was, the more has the greatness of Thy mercies shone forth. What strong reasons, then. 140 LIFEOPST. TERESA. have I not to celebrate those mercies forever ? I beseech Thee, my Lord, that it may be so : and that I may sing Thy praises forever, since now Thou hast been pleased to show such very great favors to me, that those who see them are amazed ; and often they carry me quite out of myself. Were I to be without Thee, my Lord ! I should be fit for nothing but to behold the flowers of this garden become withered in such a way, that this miserable body of mine would be again turned into a dunghill, as it was formerly. But in order that I may praise Thee the better, do not per- mit, Lord, this soul to be lost, which Thou hast purchased with so many labors, and which Thou hast so often re- purchased again and again, and hast saved from the teeth of the terrible dragon. I trust your Reverence will pardon me for thus wandering from the subject ; do not wonder at it, for it happens so according to the nature of the reflections the soul makes when I write : hence it is sometimes very difficult to forbear breaking out into praises of God, when, as I am writing, all that I owe Him are represented to me. And I believe this will not be displeasing to your Reverence ; for it seems to me, that we may both chant one song, though in a different manner ; for I owe much more to Grod than you do, because He has pardoned me more sins, as your Reverence knows well CHAPTER XV. SHE CONTINUES THE SAME SUBJECT, AND GIVES SOME ADVICE HOW PERSONS ARE TO ACT JN THE PRAYER OF QU'ET, ETC. Let us now return to our subject. This quiet and re- collection of the soul are easily perceived, by the peace and satisfaction they produce, together with a very great pleasure and calm, as well as the sweetest delight in the soul. And now it seems to her, as she has not arrived any farther, that already there is nothing for her to desire, and that she may willingly exclaim with St. Peter, « Lord, it is good for us to be here." She dare not stir, nor move, lest the good should depart from her : sometimes she would even desire not LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 141 to draw her breath. The poor soul understands not, that as by herself she is unable to do anything towards bringing this good to her ; so she has less power to keep it any longer ^han our Lord is pleased. I have already mentioned how in this quiet and recollection the powers of the ^.oul are not wanting j but she is so fully satisfied with God, that though while the prayer lasts the memory and the understanding are not exempt from distractions ; yet, as the will remains united with Grod, the soul does not lose her quiet and calm ; but rather, by little and little she recalls the other two powers, so as to make them recollected. And though the will be not wholly engulfed in Grod, yet she is so occupied, without knowing how, that, however diligent these two may be, they cannot deprive her of her contentment and joy ; but rather, she goes on helping herself without any trouble, in order that this little spark of God's love may not be extinguished in her. I beseech His Majesty to grant me grace, that I may make this point well understood 5 for there are many souls who arrive at this degree of prayer, and few who go beyond it, and I know not who is in fault : but of this I am sure, there is none on the part of God ; for since His Majesty does a soul the favor of bringing her to this degree, I cannot believe he would cease to bestow many more favors upon her, were it not through some fault of her own. It is very necessary for the soul who has arrived so far, to understand the great dignity she possesses, and the great favor our Lord has bestowed upon her, and what powerful reasons she now has no longer to belong to the earth ; because it seems that His goodness has already made her an inhabitant of heaven, if she lose it not through her own fault. Wretched will she be if she turn back ; for I believe she would descend very low, just as I was doing, if the mercy of our Lord had not brought me back again ; because for the most part such a misery is, in my opinion, to be attributed to grievous faults : nor is it possible to fall from so great a good, without great blindness to such an evil. I therefore beseech those souls, for the love of our Lord, on whom His Majesty has bestowed such favors as to enable tbem to attain this state, to know themselves ; V) estimate such a favor as it deserves, and to resolve, with 142 LIFE OP ST. TEEESA. humility and a holy presumption, not to return to the flesh- pots of Egypt. But if, through their weakness and wicked- ness, and their miserable and corrupt nature, they should fall again, as I did, let them always be representing to them- celves the good they have lost : let them suspect themselves, and walk with fear, — for they have reason to do so. If they return not to prayer, they will go on from bad to worse : for this I call " a real fall," when a soul abhors that very means by which she purchased so great a good ; and it is to such souls I am speaking now I say not that they will never offend God, or fall mto sin, though it is but reasonable that those souls who have begun to receive these favors, should guard against falling as much as possible. But we are miserable creatures ; and what I earnestly advise is, not to omit prayer, for thereby we shall know what we are doing* and we shall obtain true sorrow for having offended our Lord, and strength to rise again when we have fallen. Let us be convinced, that if the soul neglect prayer, she exposes her- self, in my opinion, to great danger. I know not if I understand what I am saying, because I judge of others by myself. This kind of prayer, then, is a spark of God's true love, which our Lord begins to enkindle in the soul ; and His desire is, that she should understand what is the nature of this love, and what kind of delight it brings with it. This quiet, and recollection, and little spark, if it come from the Spirit of God, and be not a pleasure either given by the devil or procured by ourselves, however small it may be, makes a great noise. And if the soul do not extinguish it by her own fault, this it is which begins to enkindle a large fire, which (as I shall mention in the proper place) sends forth from itself flames of the most burning love of God, which His Majesty is pleased perfect souls should enjoy, though he who has experience cannot but immediately understand, that it is a thing which cannot be acquired ; but that as our nature is so desirous of pleasure, we wish to taste of every- thiug. If, however, this quiet and recollection come from the devil, we soon grow very cold again ; and however much we may desire to make the fire burn, in order to obtain this pleasure, it seems that we need only cast water on it to quench LIFE OP ST. TERESA. 143 it. This spark is a sign or pledge which God gives to that soul, to show her how He chooses her for great things, if she will only make herself fit to receive them ; this is an invalu- able gift, much greater than I am able to express. Deeply am I grieved, because (as I was saying) I know many souls who have arrived so far : and yet so very few have passed further on, as they ought to do, that I am ashamed to acknowledge it. There may, however, be many, for God supports us for some purpose : but I only speak of those I have seen. I would earnestly advise such not to hide their talent, for it seems God chooses them, that they may do good to many other souls, — and especially in these times, when it is so necessary for His Majesty to have stanch and resolute friends to support the weak. And let all who find they have received this favor esteem themselves strong, if they know how to correspond with 'he Lord, which even in this world a sincere friendship requires ; and if not, let them fear lest they do themselves some harm ; and God grant the evil may come upon no one but themselves. In this Prayer of Quiet, the soul has nothing more to do ^han to remain enjoying her sweetness without making any lioise. I call it " noise," if the understanding go about seeking many words and considerations, to give thanks for this benefit, and be collecting together her sins and imper- fections, in order to discover she does not deserve this favor. All is in motion now : the understanding represents many things to us, and the memory is busy : and truly these powers of the soul give me at times some trouble 5 and as I have a weak memory too, I cannot control them. At this time, theui the will should remain in repose, and wisely acknowledge that this is not the way to treat with God ; and that it is like throwing great logs of wood, without discretion, on a small spark, in order to extinguish it. Let her therefore acknowl* edge with humility, and say, ^^0 Lord ! what can I do here ) What has this slave to do with the Lord of heaven and earth ?" Or she may use some other loving words, such as preseni themselves, being firmly convinced, however, that what she says be the truth. As regards the understanding, let the Boul consider it in no other light than that of a miller, as it Were ] and if she be desirous of giving it a part of what she 144 LIFE OP ST. TERESA. enjoys, or shall labor to make it recollected, she will not gain her object : for often we see that in this union and repose of the will, the understanding is still much out of order ; and if the will cannot arrest it, is is much better to let it alone, rather than go after it. Let it remain in the enjoyment of this favor, shut up in itself, like a wise bee ; for if none of the bees should go into the hive, but be all wandering about, very little honey would be made. A soul will lose much, if she pay not attention to this point, especially if the understanding be subtle ; for when once she begins to arrange her discourses, and to seek for reasons, she will think she has done something great, par- ticularly if the discourses be eloquent. But the discourse which should be used in this prayer must be, clearly to see and acknowledge that there is no other reason why God should confer so great a favor on us than His own goodness ; to consider that we are very near Him ; to beg favors from His Majesty ; to pray for the Church ; for those who have recommended themselves to our prayers, and for the souls in purgatory : and this should be done, not by the noise of words, but by a feeling desire to be heard. The Prayer of Quiet comprehends a great deal, and more is obtained thereby than by many discourses of the understanding. Let the will, then, excite within herself some reasons (which will easily present themselves to her when she finds herself so much improved) capable of inflaming this love ; and let her make certain acts of love with respect to what she would gladly do for One to whom she owes so much, without allow- ing (as I have mentioned) the understanding to make any noise, under the pretext of seeking for high and lofty thoughts. But a few little straws, — and even something less than straws, if it be possible, — presented with humility, will be much more to the purpose, and will be of greater help in enkindling the fire of divine love, than great logs of wood, — I mean, than learned discourses, — which, however beautiful they appear to us, might extinguish the fire in a few minutes. These may be good for learned men, who command me to write this book, because, by the mercy of God, all of them may attain this degree of prayer, and perhaps they might spend the time in considering some passages from Scripture- LIFE OP ST. TERESA, 145 But though their learning could Dot fail of being useful to them, both before and after prayer, yet, during the tiuie it continues, there is, in my opinion, little necessity for their learning, unless they wish to cool the fervor of the will. The reason is, because the understanding, then seeing itself so near to Light itself, is so much enlightened, that even I (though so miserable a creature) seem to be another person. And thus it has happened to me, when in the Prayer of Quiet, though I understand hardly anything of what is said in Latin, and especially in the Psalter, yet I not only under- stand the verse in Spanish, but I pass further on, and delight myself in considering the meaning of the Spanish. I make an exception with regard to those who have to preach or to teach, for then it will be proper to make use of their learning, in assisting poor ignorant persons like myself; for charity is a great virtue, and so it is to help souls forward, provided that it be always done for God. At the time when the soul is in possession of this quiet, let her rest with her true repose, and let learning be put aside ; for the time will come when it will be of service, and will be so highly esteemed, that on no account would men have neglected knowledge, were it only for the opportunity it gives them of serving His Majesty, since for this object it is very useful. But believe me, that a little attention to acquire humility and an act of this virtue, are worth more before His infinite wisdom than all the learning in the world. Here we have no need of reasoning, but only to know with sincerity what we are, and to represent ourselves with simplicity before God, who desires that the soul should make herself as dull and ignorant as she is in reality in His sight, since His Majesty humbles Himself so far as to allow her to be near His own person, though we are such miserable creatures. The understanding is likewise moved to return thanks in words very well arranged ; but the will, in the enjoyment of her calm, and not presuming, like the publican, to lift up her eyes to heaven, makes a better thanksgiving than perhaps the understanding would be able to do, by using all the powers of rhetoric. We should not, however, in this case entirely omit the use of mental prayer, nor even of vocal prayer, if we should sometimes wish to practice it, or 13 146 LIFE OF ST. TERESA, should find ourselves Me to do so ; because if the quiet be great, we can hardly help speaking without considerable pain. In my opinion, we can know when this comes from the Spirit of God, or when we procure it ourselves at the commence- ment of that devotion which God gives us ; but when we wish (as I have said) to procure by ourselves this quiet of the will, no good effect is then produced ; it ends quickly, and leaves nothing but dryness behind. If it should come from the devil, a soul exercised in prayer will I think soon discover it ; for it leaves a certain restlessness and confers little humility, and makes us but ill prepared for receiving those effects which the Spirit of God produces ; it leaves no light in the understanding, nor firmness in speaking the truth. But this will do little or no hurt to the soul, if she direct to God the sweetness and delight she then feels : and if she also place all her thoughts and desires in Him (as I have already advised), the devil can gain nothing; yea, God will so dispose matters, that he will lose much even by that very delight he causes in the soul ; for this very delight will help that soul, which thinks it comes from God, often to have recourse to prayer, with the desire of receiving more and more delight. But if the soul be humble and not curious, nor desirous of delights (even though they be spiritual), but be a lover of the cross, she will make little account of any pleasure the devil may cause in her ; this, however, she can- not do if it come from the Spirit of God, for then she will esteem it very highly. When the devil — who is lying and deceit itself — attempts such a thing, if he see a soul humble herself by means of this delight and pleasure which she re- ceives (and indeed we ought to take great care to humble ourselves in all things relating to prayer and having delights), he will not often return and tempt us, when he perceives he loses, rather than gains thereby. For this and many other reasons I mentioned in the first degree of prayer (which answers to the first method of drawing water), how very im- portant it is when the soul enters first upon prayer, to begin to disengage herself from all kind of pleasure, and to be de- termined only to help our Lord to carry His cross, like brave knights who are resolved to serve their king gratis, since they are already sure He will reward them ; and ap -r e must LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 147 turn our eyes to that true and everlasting kingdom which we are endeavoring to possess. It is very necessary to have these considerations always before our eyes, especially in the beginning, for afterwards we become quite convinced, that instead of endeavoring to remember how quickly everything ends, that all pleasures are nothing, and that worldly rest is not to be esteemed or desired, we rather find it necessary to forget such thoughts in order to live. This seems a very unworthy consideration, and so it is : for they who are more advanced would take it for an affront, and would even blush at themselves if they thought they had forsaken the pleasures of this life because they were one day to have an end ; for were they to last even forever, yet these souls would rejoice to leave them for God's sake ; the more perfect they were, the more they would rejoice ; yea, the longer these pleasures lasted, the more would they rejoice in leaving them. The love of God, which is great in these souls, operates these effects; but for those who are commencing, this point is very important (and they must not consider of little value), to leave all pleasures for God ; for the benefits which are gained by this means are very great, and therefore do I insist upon this matter so much ; for those even who are most experienced in prayer it is necessary to attend to this point, for there are times in which God wishes to try them, nay, when He seems even to have forsaken them ; for, as I have before said, and I do not wish to have my words forgotten, in the life that we live the soul does not increase as the body does, though we say she does ; and this is true to a certain extent, for after a child has grown and become a man, he does not again grow less nor has he a little body : but with regard to the soul, our Lord wishes it to be otherwise, according to what I have seen in myself, though I know nothing with regard to others. This ought to humble us for our greater good, and in order that we may not grow negligent while we live in this exile, for he who stands the highest ought to fear the most, and trust himself the least. There are times, when even those whose will is so united with the Divine will, that they would rather suffer all kinds of torments, and a thousand deaths, than commit the least imperfection, are so violently attacked 148 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. by temptations and persecutions, that in order to avoid com- mitting sin, and to keep themselves from offending God, it is necessary for them to make use of the first arms of prayer, and to consider again and again how all things come to an end, that there is a heaven and a hell, and so on with regard to other points of the like nature. But to return to what I was saying : in order to free one's self from the deceits of the devil, and from those false pleasures he makes us feel iu prayer, it is very necessary to commence with a resolution not to desire these pleasures, but to walk in the way of the cross, since our Saviour himself has shown us the road which leads to perfection in these words — '' Take up your cross and follow me." He is our pattern ; and whoever follows His advice, merely with a view to please Him, need not fear anything ; and by the profit which they see they have gained in themselves, they will easily discover the devil does not delude them ; and though they should relapse, yet one proof will remain, that our Lord has been there, viz., that they will quickly rise again, and this is what I shall now declare. When it comes from the Spirit of God, there will be no necessity to go in search of reasons for acquiring humility and confusion, because our Lord himself gives them in a manner very different from what we ourselves can procure by our mean considerations, all of which are nothing in com- parison with that true humility, and with that light which our Lord here gives us ; and these produce in us such a deep confusion that they annihilate us. The knowledge which God gives us, that we may understand we have no good of ourselves, is very easily perceived ; and this the more, the greater the favors are. It also excites a great desire of ad- vancing in prayer, and of not omitting this duty on account of any trouble which may happen to us. It produces a con- fidence that we shall be saved, united however with fear and humility. It immediately drives away all servile fear from the soul, and puts in its place a filial fear, which is much stronger. She now sees that she begins to have a love for God, which is far from being interested, and she desires op- portunities for solitude, that so she may the better enjoy that good. In a word (not to weary myself too much), this is the beginning of all good things, a state in which the flowers LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 149 are almost on the point of blossoming ; and this the soul sees very clearly. Then she cannot but believe that God is with her, till she sees herself guilty of faults and imperfections ; then she fears everything, and it is proper she should, though there are souls to whom it is more useful to believe for cer- tain that God is with them, than to have all the fears in the world, because if the soul of herself be loving and grateful, the remembrance of the favor which God conferred upon her is more efficacious in turning her to God than the representa- tions of all the torments of hell ) at least, this happened to myself, though so wicked. As for the signs of a good spirit, I will speak of them more in detail hereafter ; now I cannot do so, for it costs me a great deal of trouble to have them drawn out in a clear, legible form ; but I hope that, by the divine grace, I shall be able to say something to the purpose ; for, besides the experience whereby I have come to understand many things, I have learned something from some very learned men, and from very holy persons, to whom it is proper to give credit ; let not other souls then be so afflicted as I was, when they shall have arrived, through the goodness of our Lord, at this state. CHAPTER X7I. THE SAINT SPEAKS ON THE THIED DEGREE OF PKAYEE. I NOW wish to speak of the third water wherewith this garden is watered, for this is a running water of a river or spring, and it waters with much less labor the garden, though the distribution thereof causes some trouble. But our Lord will so help the gardener, that in some degree He will almost be the gardener Himself, and will do everything. It is a repose of all the powers, which, however, are not entirely lost, nor yet do they know how they work. The pleasure, sweetness, and delight are greater beyond comparison than in the former state ; and the soul is so engulfed in the water of grace, that she cannot go forwardi nor does she know 13* 150 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. how, nor is she willing to return back, because of the ex- cessive glory she enjoys. It is as if a person were on the point of dying the death he desires, with a blest candle in his hands, for in this agony the pleasure he CDJoys is more than can be expressed •, and this seems to me to be nothing more than to die almost entirely to everything in the world, that so we may enjoy God alone. I know of no other words wherewith to express this delight, or to declare it ; nor does the soul know at that time what to do, whether she should speak or be silent, laugh or weep. It is a glorious kind of frenzy, a celestial folly, whereby true wisdom is learned ; and the soul cannot have a more delightful means of regaling herself. I think it is about five or six years ago since our Lord gave me this kind of prayer often and abundantly, and then I neither understood it nor could I express it ; I had therefore resolved, when I came to treat on this degree, to say little or nothing. I saw very clearly however, that it was not an entire union of all the powers of the soul, but still that it was more than could be found in the former de- grees ; yet I must acknowledge, I could not determine, nor did I know in what this difference consisted. But I believe, that on account of the humility which your Reverence has shown, in wishing to be assisted by such great simplicity as mine, our Lord gave me to-day after communicating this prayer, yet without my being able to go forward ; and He put these comparisons into my head, and taught me how to express them, and what the soul is to do in this case ; and truly I was amazed thereat, for I understood the whole sub- ject in a moment. Many times I was as it were out of my- self, being inebriated with this love, and yet I could never understand how it was : I knew well, however, it was from God, but I could not comprehend how He worked therein ; for in reality the powers of the mind are almost entirely united, but not so engulfed but that they still work : I have been extremely pleased at having now understood this prayer. May our Lord be blessed for having thus favored me. These powers are then only capable of occupying them- selves entirely on God j and it appears that none of them daring to move, we could not turn away from this object without using great violence to tbem ; and I know not LIPK OF ST. TERESA. 151 whether with all our efiforts we could even then do so. Many words are then spoken in praise of God, without any order, unless our Lord himself should arrange them, for here the understanding is of no use whatever. The soul would fain break forth into praises, but she cannot contain herself, and her condition is a pleasing kind of restlessness. Then the flowers begin to open and to scent the air ; then the soul would be glad if all the world could see and understand her glory, so as to praise God ; and if every one could assist her therein, that so she might give them part of her joy, not be- ing able to enjoy so much herself. She seems to me to be like the person mentioned in the Gospel, who called her neighbors ; or as if she felt the admirable spirit of the royal prophet David, when he played on his harp and sung the praises of God. I am very much devoted to this glorious King, and I wish that all men were so, especially we who are sinners. my God ! in what state is a soul when she finds her- self raised to this degree of prayer ! She would wish to be changed into so many tongues, in order to praise Thee, Lord ! She utters a thousand holy extravagances, always endeavoring to please Thee, who boldest her in this state. I know a certain person,* who, though she was no poetess, made very feeling verses " extempore," declaring the sweet pain she suffered, and these were not composed by her under- standing ; but the better to enjoy that glory which gave her so delightful a pain, she complained thereof to her God, and she wished both her whole body and soul could be torn in pieces, to show the joy she feels in this pain. What torments could then be placed before her which she would not gladly endure for the love of her Lord ? She sees clearly that the martyrs did almost nothing in suffering torments, for the soul knows then that her strength comes from some other source than from herself. But what will she feel when she comes to herself again, and is obliged to devise the means of living in the world, and is mixed up again with its cares and occu- pations? I think I have not at all exaggerated anything * The Saint, no doubt, alludes to herself j for being once in a rapture, she composed some sublime verses, still extant. 152 LIFE OP ST. TERESA, respecting the joy which our Lord is pleased a soul should experience in this place of banishment, for all that I have said is very mean in comparison with the reality. Blessed be Thou, Lord, forever ! may all creatures praise Thee forever Be now pleased, my King ! and I humbly beseech Thee, that since even now, while I am writing, I am not out of this holy and celestial frenzy (which through Thy goodness and mercy Thou grantest to me as a favor, without any merit of mine), either all those with whom I converse may become fools for your love, or permit me no more to converse with any person, or so order, Lord, that I may have nothing more to do with the things of this world, or take me quite away from it. my God ! this Thy servant can no longer endure so many afflictions, which she sees come upon her when she has Thee not ; if she must live, she desires to have no ease in this life, and indeed Thou dost not give her any. She desires to be free from the body ; eating is insupportable to her, and sleep afflicts her ; she sees that her whole life is passed in satisfying the body, and that now no one but Thee can truly delight her ; she seems to live against nature itself, since she desires no longer to live in herself, but in Thee. O my true Lord and my glory! how light and yet how very heavy is the cross which Thou hast prepared for those who have arrived at this degree ! It is light, because it is sweet ; and it is heavy, because at certain times, no patience in the world can endure it, and yet the soul would never desire to be free from it, unless it were that she might find herself with Thee. And when she remembers that she has not served Thee in anything, but that by living she may then be able to serve Thee, she would gladly endure a burden much more heavy, and would be content not to die until the end of the world. She cares not for any rest or repose, provided she can do Thee any little service. She knows not what to desire, though she knows well that she desires nothing but Thee. my son! (for you, to whom this life is directed, and who have commanded me to write it, are so humble that you wish to be called by this name), let these things be known only to yourself, when you see that I do not keep within bounds ; for no reason is able to restrain me when our Lord LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 153 takes me out of myself. I do not believe it is I who am thus speaking, ever since I communicated this morning. It eeems that 1 dream of what I see, and that I would be glad to see only those who are sick of this same malady which I now have myself. I beseech your Reverence to pray that we may all become fools for the love of Him, who was pleased to be called a " fool " for us. And since your Keverence tells me that you have a regard for me, I wish you may show it by disposing yourself for receiving this favor from our Lord ; for I see very few persons who do not take excessive pains for the accomplishment of their desires. But, perhaps, I may be in greater error than every one else. Do not, however, allow this, my father (for you are both a father and a son, because you are my confessor, to whom 1 have entrusted my soul) ; undeceive me by telling me the truth, though these truths are but seldom told. I should be very glad, that as in these days men meet together in secret to conspire against the Divine Majesty, and to propagate their wickedness and heresies ; so we five,* who at present love each other in Christ, should also endeavor sometimes to meet together, for the purpose of undeceiving each other, for conferring on the means of reforming our- selves, and of giving God the greatest pleasure . for no one knows himself so well as they know who see us, provided they truly love us, and are anxious for our advancement. I mention this in secret, because no such language is used in the world ; even preachers so arrange their sermons as not to give any offence ; their intention is good, but we see what the effects are, for few amend their lives. How is it that many still give scandal by their public vices, in spite of these sermons ? The reason is, I think, because preachers have too much prudence, and too little of that fire of Divine love which the apostles had, and so it sends out but little heat, I do not say it should be so great as theirs was ; but I wish it were greater than what I see now. Does your Reverence know in what it ought principally to consist ? In abhorring this life and despising honors ; and that, rather than fail in speaking the truth, and maintaining it for the glory of God, * I do not know the five to whom the Saint alludes. 154 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. "we should be more ready to lose all than to gain all ; and he who is willing to hazard all things for God, will be as content with the one as with the other. I say not that I am such a person, but I earnestly wish I were. Oh ! glorious liberty, to esteem as a captivity the being obliged to live and converse according to the laws of this world ! And when this favor is obtained from our Lord, there is no slave who would not venture everything, that so he might redeem himself and return to his own country. And since this is the true way, we should not loiter on the road, for we shall never be able to obtain so great a treasure until we die ; and may our Lord grant us His grace for this purpose. Your Reverence may tear in pieces what I have written if you think proper, and pardon me, for I have been too bold. CHAPTER XVn. BHK CONTINUES THE SAME SUBJECT, ON THE THIRD DEGREE OP PRAYER, ETC. I HAVE already spoken, at considerable length, of this third degree of prayer, and of what the soul should do therein, — or rather what God operates in her; for now He Himself takes the office of gardener, and wishes the soul to take her rest, provided only that the " will " accept of these favors which she enjoys, and offers to submit herself to all that this true Wisdom may be pleased to effect in her : for this purpose courage is certainly necessary. And so great is this joy, that sometimes it seems the soul is just on the point of leaving the body ; and what a happy death that would be! It appears to me, as I have before mentioned to your Reverence, that it would be well for the soul to abandon herself entirely into the hands of God : if He should wish to take her to heaven, let her go ; if to hell, let her not be troubled, for she will accompany Him who is all her hap- Einess ; if He wish her to leave this life immediately, let er consent thereto ; if to live a thousand years, let her be willing ; let His Majesty dispose of her as of something IiIFE OP ST. TERESA. 155 which belongs to Him ; for the soul is no longer her own, but she belongs wholly to our Lord, and therefore she must be entirely free from care. I say, then, that in so high a degree of prayer as this is, she understands that she performs it without any weariness to the understanding (for when God gives this prayer to a soul, she is able to do all this, and much more, for such are its effects); she is, it seems, as it were amazed at seeing how our Lord performs the office of so good a gardener, and how He wishes her to take no pains or trouble, but only that she would delight herself by begin- ning to smell the flowers. When the Gardener waters the soul with this water, of which He is the Creator, though it may last only for a short time, yet He gives it in such abund- ance, that what the poor soul could not obtain by all her efforts in tiring the understanding for twenty years, this heavenly Gardener now does all in a moment ; and the fruit grows and ripens so well, that she is able through the good pleasure of our Lord, to support herself by the garden. But He does not give the soul leave to distribute the fruit till she has grown so strong, by having eaten of it, as not to squander it away in tasting it. Thus by not valuing the profit she might make by it, nor receiving anything from those to whom she gave it, she might maintain and feed people at her own cost, while she herself would perhaps die of hunger. What I have said will be understood by such persons, who well know how to apply it, better than I can declare, for I feel tired. The truth is, that the virtues which are obtained in this prayer remain so much stronger in the soul than those obtained in the Prayer of Quiet, that she cannot be ignorant of them. She sees herself quite another person, and she begins (though scarcely knowing how), to do great things by means of the odor the flowers yield of themselves ; for now our Lord is pleased that the flowers should open, that so she may know she has virtues, although she sees very clearly she was not able during several years to acquire them, nor could she till the Heavenly Gardener was pleased in an instant to give them to her. The humility, also, of the soul is greater and more profound in this prayer than in th€ former, because she sees more clearly that she did nothing 156 LIFE OP ST. TERESA. herself, but only consented for our Lord to bestow these favors on her, and for the will to embrace them. It seems to me, that in this kind of prayer there is a very evident union of the whole soul with God, except that it appears His Majesty gives liberty to the powers of the mind, to understand and enjoy the abundance of what He works in the soul. Sometimes, and even very often, it happens, that the will being thus united (I mention this, that your Rev- erence may see it can be, and that you may understand it when it happens), she knows and understands that she is tied up, and yet she can enjoy, I repeat, she knows she possesses much quiet and peace, while on the other hand the memory and the understanding are so free, that they are able to treat about business, and attend to works of charity. Now, though this may seem to be all the same with what I said respecting the Prayer of Quiet, yet it is different ; because there the soul is in such a state that she would fain not stir nor move, as she enjoys the holy leisure of Mary ; whereas, in the Prayer of Union, the soul may also imitate Martha. Thus she performs, almost all together, the duties both of the active and the contemplative life, and she is able to attend to works of charity, and to other business connected with her state : she can also read, though still the faculties are not entirely masters of themselves, and she understands well that the greater part of her attention is occupied elsewhere. It is just as if we were speaking with some one, and that at the same time some other person were speaking with us, in such a manner, that neither to the one, nor to the other were we entirely attentive. It is a something which is perceived very clearly, and gives great satisfaction and content when*- ever it happens ; it serves also as a very excellent preparation, in order that when the soul is in solitude, and free from business, she may enjoy perfect quiet and repose. It is a state of being, as if a person were so satisfied in himself that he would have no necessity at all to eat, but felt his stomach content in such a manner that he would not taste of every kind of food ; and yet if he saw any food which he liked, he would not forbear to eat of it. Thus the soul does not satisfy herself, nnr is she content to feed on the meat of this world, because she finds in herself that which satisfies LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 157 her, viz., the greater pleasure she feels in G-od, and the desires she has of satisfying her wish, of enjoying His presence more and more. There is also another kind of union, which is not so entire, though it be greater than that of which I was speaking before, but not altogether so great as that of this Third Water. Your Reverence will be very glad to find it written thus — (should our Lord bestow them all upon you, if you have them not already), and to understand what it is. It is one kind of favor for our Lord to bestow the same favor, and another to understand what grace and favor that is ; and another also to be able to declare it and make it understood. And though it may seem, that the first of these three is only necessary for keeping the soul from being confused and fearful, and for enabling her to go forward with more courage in the way of our Lord, treading under her feet all things of this world ; yet it is a great advantage and favor to understand it. It is proper, therefore, that both he who has it and he who has it not, should greatly praise our Lord for it, because His Majesty has been pleased to give it to some who are alive, in order that He might do us good. Now, I often have this kind of union whereof I am speaking ; and Almighty God is very often pleased to bestow Ais favor upon me in such a manner, that He makes my will and also my under- standing re-collected ; and then it no longer discourses, but is occupied in the enjoyment of God, as one who is looking on, and who sees so much, that he knows not which way to look ; for one thing instantly appears, which takes away the sight of the other, and so nothing makes any impression. The memory remains free, and so does the imagination seem to do also : and when it sees itself alone, one cannot conceive what a war it makes upon the will and the under- standing, and how it endeavors to put everything in con- fusion. It makes me quite tired, so that I abhor it : and often have I besought our Lord to deprive me entirely of it on these occasions, if it should continue thus to distract me. Sometimes I say, " When, Lord, shall all the powers of my soul be wholly united in singing Thy praises, and not be any more divided, without being able to help herself?" Here I see the evils which sin has brought upon us, since it 14 158 LIFE OP ST, TERESA. hinders us from doing what We would wish, which is to be always occupied with God. I mention how this happens to me sometimes — and even this very day I have had this union, and therefore I remember it the better. My soul has almost exhausted herself, in desiring to be wholly there, where she finds herself for the most part to be already ; and yet this appears to be impossible, because both the memory and the imagination make such war upon her, that they allow her not to work. And though they are not able to hurt her, because the other faculties are wanting, yet they do enough by the disquiet they cause. Still I say they do no harm, because they have no strength, nor do they fix themselves in one state : and as the understanding does not help the imagination in that which it represents, neither much nor little, it cannot fix on anything, but goes from one thing to another, just like those importunate and unquiet little gnats which buzz about by night here and there. This comparison seems to me to be extremely proper ; for though these faculties have no strength to do any harm, yet they trouble those who feel them. Against this evil I know no remedy, for hitherto God has not enabled me to find any out ; and if He had, I should have been glad to use it ; for it torments me very often, as I have said. But herein our misery is made apparent, and the power of God also is very evident, since this faculty which is disengaged, puts us to so much trouble, and tires us, while the others which attend His Majesty make us feel so nmch ease. The sole remedy which I met with, after having wearied myself for many years, is that of which I spoke in the Prayer of Quiet, viz., to con- sider the memory no better than a madman, and to leave it alone with its folly, for God only can check its extravagan- cies. And since it remains as a slave to us, we must bear with it patiently, just as Jacob did with Leah, for God be- stows a favor upon us in allowing us to enjoy Rachel. I said that it remains a slave, because it cannot attract to itself the other powers, however much it may endeavor to do so, while they, with(mt any labor, often draw it to them- selves. Sometimes our Lord is pleased to have pity, when He sees the imagination so much disquieted and lost, through her desire of being with the other faculties 5 then His Majesty LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 159 consents that she should burn in that Divine fire which has already consumed the others, in such a manner as almost to change their nature, so as to make them capable of enjoying such supernatural great blessings. The joy and glory which the soul enjoys in the different ways whereby she draws water from this Divine Fountain, are so great, that even the body very clearly participates in the joy and delight, and our virtues also increase greatly, as I have mentioned. It seems, our Lord has been pleased I should explain these degrees of prayer, in which the soul sees herself more clearly than can be given her to under- stand in this life. Your Reverence will do well to consult on the subject with some spiritual and learned person, who has arrived at this degree of prayer. And if he shall tell you that you are going on well, believe that God has said so to you, and consider it a great favor from His Majesty ; because you will, in the course of time, rejoice very much, as I have said, to understand what it is ; though now, while you have the means to enjoy it, he gives you no^. the grace to understand it. But as His Majesty has given you the first part, you will afterwards understand the rest by your knowledge and learning. May He be praised forever and ever. Amen. CHAPTER XYin. THE SAINT SPEAKS ON THE FOUBTH DEGBEE OF PRATER. May our Lord teach me some words, whereby I may be able to say something on the fourth method of drawing water. I have great need of His assistance, even more than I had when speaking of the last degree ; for there the soul finds that she is not entirely dead to the world ; and we may say so with truth, because she is still in the world. But, as I have said, she has sufficient understanding to know she is in it, and to feel her solitude ; and she makes use of exterior signs to make what she feels understood. In all the pre- ceding kinds of prayer which I have described, the gardener 160 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. labors a little ; though yet in this latter kind of prayer, hu labor is accompanied with so much joy and consolation to the soul, that he would be glad were it never to end ; and thus he finds no trouble at all, but rather a subject of glory. In this fourth degree there is no suffering, but only enjoying, though yet without understanding what is enjoyed. He knows, however, that a certain good is possessed, in which all blessings are comprised : but this good is not compre- hended by him. All the senses are occupied with this joy in such a manner, that they cannot apply themselves to any- thing else, either interiorly or exteriorly. Before (as I have mentioned), a certain liberty was given to them, in order that they might show some signs of the great joy they felt ; but here the soul enjoys much more, beyond comparison, and can make herself understood much less, because both the body and the soul are incapable of communicating that joy : everything would then be an embarrassment, torment, and an obstacle to the repose of the soul. I say, that if there should be a union of all the powers, she cannot, even if she wished, commrnicate the joy she feels; and if she could, there would not be a union. How what is called " union" happens, and what it is, I am not able to explain. It is ex- plained in " Mystical theology," of the terms of which I am ignorant : neither do I know what is meant by the " mind," nor the difference between mind and soul ; nor what is a " spirit :" all these seem to be one and the same thing to me ; though sonietimes the soul herself springs out, like a fire which is burning, and has burned into a flame; and sometimes this fire increases with a certain impetuosity, and the flame rises much higher than the fire : but, notwithstand- ing this, it is not anything different from the fire, but it ia the flame itself which is in the fire. Your Eeverence will understand this subject by your learning ; I know not how to explain it better. I wish to mention what the soul feels when she is in this divine union. Every one knows what is meant by a union, viz., when two things, which before were separated, become one. my Lord ! how good art Thou ! Blessed be Thou forever! May all creatures praise Thee, my God! who hast loved us in such a manner, that we are able to speak with LIFE OP ST. TERESA. 161 truth respecting this communication, which Thou holdest with souls, even in this land of exile; and however good they may be, still Thy liberality and magnificence are great in treating with them : in fine, my Lord ! it is Thine own greatness which gives these favors, considering who Thou art. ! infinite Bounty, how magnificent are Thy works ! Do they not amaze those who have not their understanding so occupied with the things of this world, as %o allow them time to hear and understand the truth ? Why shouldst Thou bestow such supernatural favors on souls who have so often ofi'ended Thee ? This consideration does certainly surpass my understanding ; and the more I consider it, the more I am unable to pass on further. Where can one go without being obliged to return back, since I know not how to re- turn Thee thanks for such immense favors ? I help myself sometimes by speaking foolish things ; and it often happens, both after I have received these favors and when our Lord is beginning to bestow them (I have already mentioned how at the very time I am enjoying them, I have no power to do ^ anything), that I thus address Him : " Lord ! consider what Thou art doing : do not forget so quickly my very grievous sins ; and though Thou hast forgotten them so far as to pardon them, yet remember them, I beseech Thee, so as to put some limit to Thy favors. Do not place so precious a liquor in so broken a vessel, O my Creator ! since Thou hast already seen how often I have spilt it. Commit not such a precious treasure to one in whom a desire for the con- solations of this life has not yet been totally extinguished, as it ought to be : if Thou shouldst commit it, it will be utterly lost. How canst Thou commit the strength of this city, and the keys of the fortress, to a cowardly commander, who, on the first attack of the enemy, is sure to let them enter ? ! my Eternal King ! let not Thy love of me be so great, as that it should make Thee expose such precious jewels as these to danger. It seems to me, my Lord ! that Thou mayest give the world occasion hereby to under- value these great favors of Thine, since Thou dost place them in the hands of a creature so base, so weak, so mise- rable, and of such little worth as I am. And though I now begin to labor, that I may not lose them, through Thy assist- 14* 162 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. ance (and I have need of no little, considering who I am), yet I shall not be able, by means thereof, to gain any one else to Thee : in a word, I am a woman, and not a good one, but very wicked. It seems that these Thy talents are thus not only hidden, but even quite buried, by being put in so ungrateful a soil. Thou art not accustomed, Lord ! to impart such favors and dignities to a soul, but only with a view that she may profit many others. Thou knowest, Lord ! that sometimes I have begged this favor, and still beg it of Thee, with my whole heart and affection ; and consider it fit to be content to lose the highest blessing which can be enjoyed upon earth, in order that Thou mayst be pleased to grant it to some other, who will profit more by it to Thine own greater glory." These and other such mat- ters I have often thought of mentioning ; but I afterwards saw my ignorance, and the little humility I possessed, for our Lord knows well what is proper for every one, and that my soul would not have had sufiicient strength to save herself, unless His Majesty had bestowed on her so many favors. I also wish to declare the graces and effects which remain in the soul by this prayer, and what she can do of herself, or if she can in any way be instrumental in bringing herself to so high a state. This elevation of the spirit or union comes with a celestial love ; in my opinion, this union is dif- ferent from elevation, though yet the soul is elevated in this same union. Whoever has not experienced this last will be of a different opinion ; but yet, even though they should both be the same, our Lord works differently therein ; and by the increase which the soul receives of disengaging herself from all creatures, she seems much greater by that elevation. I have seen clearly that this is a particular favor, although (as I have said) they may both be the same, or at least may seem so. But a small fire is as truly a fire as a great one, and yet we see there is a difference between one and the other. In a small fire it takes a long time before a small piece of iron can be made hot ; but if the fire be great, the iron, though it may also be great, will soon lose the appear- ance of iron ; just so does it seem to me, in these two kinds of favors from our Lord. I know that whoever shall have LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 163 arrived at these raptures will understand me well ; but he who has had no experience therein, will consider what I say to be foolish : and it may be so, for how shall such a creature as I am presuuje to speak on such a subject, and to make that understood which it seems impossible to think of de- claring even by words ? It is not strange, then, if I speak foolish things. But I believe this ot our Lord (for His Majesty knows that, next to obedience, my intention is no other than to make souls desirous of obtaining so high a blessing), that He will assist me herein. I shall say nothing of which I have not had much experience. It is quite true that when I began to write on this last degree, I thought it would be more impossible for me to treat about it, than to speak Greek, so very difficult did I find it : upon this I gave up writing, and went to communion. Oh ! virtue of obedience ! which art able to do all things : may our Lord be praised, who thus favors the ignorant. Oh, virtue of obedience ! which art able to do all things : God enlightened my understand- ing, sometimes furnishing me with the words I was to use, and at other times by representing to me the manner in which I should express myself : what His Majesty was pleased to do in the former degree of prayer, so it seems that here also He wishes to declare what I myself am not able to ex- press, nor do I know how. What I say is perfectly true, so that whatever is good comes from His teaching ; and what is bad, comes from that sea of misery and sin, which is myself. But if there be any persons (and there may be many) who have arrived at these degrees of prayer witli which our Lord has favored me, though so miserable a creature, and should they wish to speak on these matters with me, think- ing they may perhaps have wandered out of the true road, I trust our Ldrd will so help His servant that she may go for- ward and declare the truth. I now wish to speak of that water which comes from heaven in such abundance, as completely and entirely to water this garden : if our Lord never failed to give this water when- ever there was any want of it, it is evident what ease, the gardener would enjoy ! There would be no winter, but 164 LIFE OP ST. TERESA. always the weather would be temperate, and flowers and fruit would never be wanting : then might be seen what de- light the gardener would enjoy ! But as long as we live in this world, such a state is impossible ; and we must always take care, wlienever we are in want of one of the waters, to procure the other. Sometimes this water falls from heaven when the gardener thinks least of it. True it is, the water comes almost always after a long exercise of mental prayer ; and by degrees our Lord catches this little bird, and places it in a nest, there to repose. . And when He has seen it fly- ing for a long time, that is, the soul endeavoring to seek God, and to please Him by her understanding, her will, and all her strength, then He is pleased to reward her even in this life. And how great is the reward He gives ! One mo- ment's enjoyment thereof is sufficient to repay all the trials and afflictions we can endure in this life. The soul thus going in searck of God, finds herself almost sinking under a sweet and most excessive delight, accompa- nied with a kind of fainting, so that the breath begins to fail, and also all corporeal strength, not indeed attended with great pain, but in such a manner that even the hands cannot be moved ; the eyes are closed without our having any desire to close them ; and when they are open, the soul sees nothing distinctly : if she can read, she is unable to tell a letter, and she knows not how to pronounce it properly. She sees indeed there are letters, Lut as the understanding does not help her, she knows not how to read, though she should desire. She hears, but understands not what she hears. Thus she receives no benefit at all from her senses, but only that they will not allow her to take the full enjoy- ment of her pleasure ; and accordingly they do her more harm than good. As to speaking, it is useless to attempt it, for she cannot form any words ; and even if she could, she has no strength to pronounce them ; because all her bodily strength is gone, while that of the soul is increased, that so she may the better enjoy her glory. The exterior delight which she feels is both very great and very evident. This prayer, however long it may last, produces no inconvenience, at least I feel none ; nor do I remember when our Lord be- stowed this favor on me, however ill I might be, that I ever LIFE OP ST. TERESA. 165 found myself worse : I was, on the other hand, much better. But what harm can so great a blessing do ? Its effects are so manifest, that one cannot doubt it augments the vigor of the soul, since our Lord took away all her bodily strength, though attended with such great delight, in order to leave her still greater strength. It is true that in the beginning this feeling passes away in a short time, at least it happened so to me ; neither can it be known by these exterior signs, nor by the absence of our senses, since this prayer passes quickly away. But still it is easily discerned by the excess of the favors received, for the heat of the sun must have been great there, since it melted every obstacle. This point should, in my opinion, be noticed, viz., that however long the time may seem to be in which all the powers of the soul are suspended, it is in reality short : if it should continue for half an hour, that would be very long ; for my part I think I was never so long. It is true one can hardly judge how long the time is, since the person has no outward sense ; but it must be a very short tinip, in which some of the powers will not return again to themselves. The will is the only power which carries on the work ; the other two quickly become importunate ; but as the will remains quiet, she suspends them again, and then they remain another little while, and live again. In this manner some hours may be passed in prayer, as in reality they are ; for wher the two powers have begun to taste this celestial wine, and to be inebriated therewith, they easily lose them- selves again, that so they may gain the more ; and as they accompany the will all three enjoy themselves together. But the period during which they remain entirely lost is very short ; and there is no imagination at all ; for, in my opinion, this power is also entirely lost, though they do not so entirely return to themselves, without remaining for some hours, as it were, stupid • but God recollects them, and brings them back by little and little to Himself. We now come to the interior of what the soul then feels ; let hiiii declare it who knows it, for it cannot be understood, and much less expressed. I was thinking (when I wished to write these remarks, after having communicated, and having 166 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. been engaged in this very prayer on which I am now writing) on what the soul did at that time. Our Lord addressed these words to me : " She forgets herself entirely, in order to give herself more to Me ; it is not she who now lives, but I who live in her : and this is so incomprehensible, that all she can comprehend is, — that she comprehends nothing.'' He who has proved these words by experience will be able to understand something of them, for I cannot speak more clearly, since what happens here is so very obscure. I can only say, that their being united with God is represented to them ; and they are so certain thereof that they cannot possibly help believing it. Here all the powers of the soul cease operating, and are suspended in such a manner that in no way can it be understood (as I have mentioned) — that they work. If the soul were thinking of some mystery, it is instantly forgotten, as if there had never been any such thought ; if she were reading, she has no remembrance of what she read, nor of what she was meditating on, and so of praying vocally in like manner. Thus, this importunate little gnat of the memory has her wings burnt here, so that she .can no longer move from place to place. The will, however, is entirely occupied in loving, though it understands not how it loves. It is not known how the understanding under- stands ; if it understands at all, at least it can comprehend nothing of that which it understands. To me it appears not to understand, because (as I was saying) it is not understood; and I have not yet been able to understand this myself. At first I was in such great ignorance as not to know that God was in all things ; and as He seemed to be so present to me, it appeared impossible for me to believe otherwise. Not to iDelieve that He was there I was unable, because it seemed almost certain that I understood Him to be present. Some unlearned men told me that He was present only by His grace ; this I could not believe, because (as I have said) He appeared to me to be present ; and so I went on in trouble. But, at length, a great and learned man, of the Order of the glorious St. Dominic, freed me frojn this doubt, and told me, that not only was our Lord present, but that He also com- municated Himself to us : these words comforted me much. We must take notice and understand that this celestial water LlijE OP ST. TERESA. 167 IS always to be considered as a most eminent favor from our Lord, for it endows the soul with most precious advantages, as I shall now mention. CHAPTER XIX. THE SAINT BEGINS TO DECLABE THE EFFECTS WHICH THIS DEGREE OF PRAYER PRODUCES IN THE SOUL, ETC. In this prayer and union the soul is filled with so great tenderness as to be willing to dissolve herself, not through the pain she feels, but by the tears of joy wherewith she is bathed, without knowing how or when she shed them. But it gives her great delight to find this impetuosity of the fire allayed by water, which, however, makes it increase the more. This language may seem to be so much " gibberish ; " but so it is. In this degree of prayer I have sometimes happened to be so entirely out of myself, that I knew not whether I were awake or asleep, or whether in truth I had been in the glory which I felt. I saw myself so bathed in the water, which came from my eyes with such force and speed, that it seemed as if it were poured down from some cloud in the heavens. 1 found that it was no dream ; and this happened at the beginning of this prayer, but it quickly passed away. The soul, however, remains so courageous, that if she could then be cut to pieces for God's sake, it would be a great consola- tion to her. There are excited and renewed all her promises ; her heroic resolutions, the lively efficacy of her desires ; her abhorrence of the world ; her very clearly seeing her own vanity ; and all this is observed much more perfectly and deeply than it was in her former prayers. Her humility becomes much stronger, because now she sees clearly that it was no diligence of hers which procured her this excessive and incomparable favor, nor was her diligence in any way instrumental in making her enjoy this favor *, she sees clearly that she is a most unworthy wretch, for if a clear beam of the sun should enter any room, the smallest cobweb cannot be concealed ; she sees her misery. She is also so free from 168 LIFE OP ST. TERESA. vain-glory, that it seems impossible for her to entertain it, because she has now before her eyes how little she is able to perform, or rather that it is nothing at all ; and, also, that there was hardly so much as any consent of hers, but that it seems, whether she would or not, the gates of all her senses were shut up, in order that she might the better enjoy her Lord ; and as she remains alone with Him, what has she to do but to love Himi She neither can see nor hear, unless she be forced, and therefore there is little for which to thank her. Her former life is then represented to her with perfect truth, and also the great mercy of God. All this happens without the understanding being obliged to go in search of it, and there she sees ready prepared what she is to eat and understand. She sees also that of herself she deserves hell, and that instead thereof she receives glory, and not punish- ment. Hence she consumes herself in the praises of God, and I should be glad to do the same now. " Blessed be Thou, my Lord ! who having found me to be such impure water, hast vouchsafed to purify it in such a manner that it may be in some measure not unworthy of Thy table. Be Thou praised, Joy of Angels ! who hast been pleased to exalt so base a worm." This profit the soul retains for some time, and she already clearly understands thai) the fruit is not of her own growth ; she begins to give part of it to others, without feeling any want of it herself. She begins also to give signs of being a soul that guards heavenly treasures, and she is desirous of making others partake of them, beseeching God that she alone may not be rich. She begins to do good to her neighbors, almost without understanding it, or doing anything herself; but they who receive the benefit understand it well, because the flowers already yield so great a scent, that they make every one desirous of coming to them. People see she has great virtues, and that the fruit is tempting, and they would be glad to help her to eat it. If the earth of this garden (the soul) be cultivated, by labors, and persecu- tions, and detractions, and sicknesses (and there are few who arrive so far without these things), and if it be loosened from all self-interest, the water sinks so very deep that the soil will scarce ever be dry. But if the soul have as many thorns LIPEOFST.TERESA, 169 as I had in the he ginning, — if she do not avoid all the occasions of sin, and if she neglect to acknowledge her ohli- gations to God for so great a favor, she soon again becomes dry. And if the gardener should grow negligent, and our Lord, through His sole goodness should not be willing to give the garden rain, you may give it up as ruined and destroyed. So did it happen to me several times ; and truly it amazes me to reflect upon it ; if I had not experienced it, I could not have believed it. I write thus for the comfort of such souls as are weak, like mine, that so they may never despair, nor once desist from confiding in the greatness of God, even though they should fall, after having been loaded with such favors as are here mentioned. They must not despair, unless they wish to be totally lost : tears gain everything : one brings another. One of the reasons by which I have been animated (con- sidering the wretched creature I am) to write this discourse by obedience, and to give an account of my wicked life, and of the favors our Lord had bestowed upon me (and these, not while I was serving, but offending Him), has been this : — 1 wish 1 were some person of great authority, that so men might believe me the more in this respect. I entreat our Lord that His Majesty may bestow the favor upon me. I say, that no one of those who have begun to use mental prayer should be dismayed by saying, " If I became wicked again, it would be worse for me to go on with the exercise of prayer." I believe this, if he should omit prayer, and not correct his life. But if he should not give up prayer, he may be confident it will lead him to the port of life. The devil made so fierce an attack upon me in this point, and I passed so long without prayer (thinking that, being so wicked as I was, it would be an act of greater humility to omit), I gave it over for about a year and a half, or for a year at least, for the half-year I do not remember so well. This was nothing more than making myself fall into hell, without need- ing any devils for this purpose. my God, what great blindness ! And how well the devil succeeds in his purpose, by laying so heavy a load upon us herein ! The traitor knows that he has lost the soul which perseveres in prayer^ and that all those falls which he causes us to make, will h^^ 15 170 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. assist us, through the goodness of God, to make us after- wards advance more quickly in His service ; the devil knows all this. my Jesus! what a thing it is to see a soul who has arrived at this state fallen into sin ! In Thy mercy Thou\ dost lend her Thy hand to rise again : then will she know the multitude of Thy greatnesses and mercies, and her own misery. Then she comes to annihilate herself in earnest, and to understand Thy greatness : here she presumes not to raise up her eyes to heaven, though yet she raises her thoughts to consider and understand her obligations to Him. Here she becomes devoted to the Queen of Heaven, that she by her prayers may appease Thee. Here she invokes those saints who fell, after Thou didst once call them to Thy service, in order that they may assist her. Here she believes, that whatever crosses Thou dost send, they are all too light, because she sees she does not deserve the very ground on which she stands. Here she has recourse to the Sacraments, and to that lively faith which remains in her, from seeing the great efficacy Grod has given them. She praises Thee for having left such ointments and medicine for the cure of our wounds ; and these not only close them, but heal them entirely : at all this she is amazed. And who, Lord of my soul ! ought not to be amazed at so great mercy and in- creased favors, in spite of treasons which are so foul and abominable, that I wonder how my heart does not break when I write these things, because I am a wicked wretch. And yet it seems as if I wished to make Thee some kind of satisfaction for so many treasons, by shedding these few poor tears, given by Thee, and which, as far as concerns me, are but so much water drawn from a muddy well. Still, I am always committing evil, and endeavoring to frustrate the favors which Thou hast done me. Be pleased, my Lord, to give value to my tears. Make these tears, Lord, acceptable to Thee : purify the troubled water of my soul, that so no temptation may be given to any one, of forming rash judgments, as was the case with me ; for I often thought, why Thou dost pass over, O Lord, other very holy people, wto have always served Thee and suffered for Thee, and have been brought up in religion, and who are indeed truly LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 171 religious ; and not like me, who had nothing more than the name : and yet I see clearly Thou hast not shown such favors to them as Thou hast to me. But I know well, my Eternal God ! Thou keepest their reward in store, that Thou mayest give it to them altogether, and that my weakness requires such treatment. But those others, like valiant men, serve Thee without it, and so Thou treatest them as Thou wouldst people strong in courage who have no interest of their own. But notwithstanding all this, Thou knowest, Lord, that often I cried out before Thee, excusing those persons who spoke against me, because I thought they had too much reason for what they said. But this happened, Lord! when already, through Thy goodness. Thou hadst prevented me from offending Thee so much ; and when I was already endeavoring to avoid whatever might offend Thee. And when I began to do this. Thou, Lord ! didst begin to open Thy treasures to this Thy servant. And it seems Thou didst expect nothing more, than that I might be inclined and pre- pared to receive them ; so quickly didst Thou begin, not only to bestow them, but to wish that men should know Thou hadst given them. And when this was known, some began to have a good opinion of me, though all were not aware how wicked I was : still a great deal of my wickedness transpired. Then men began, all at once, to calumniate me, and persecute me ; and, in my opinion, not without great cause. But still, I enter- tained no enmity against any one, but only besought Thee to consider what reasons they had. They said that I wished to pass for a saint, and that I invented certain novelties, though I was not then able, by a great deal, even to fulfil all the duties of my rule ; nor had I overtaken, in the way of virtue, those most pious and religious nuns who were in the monas- tery. And I think I shall never be able to arrive thereto, unless God in His goodness be pleased to perform everything on His side ; rather was I inclined to do away with every- thing which was good, and to establish certain customs which were not good : at least, I did what I could to introduce them ; and in doing evil I always had power enough : and thus men blamed me without any fault of theirs. I do not 172 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. say that they were nuns only ; other persons also told me truths, because Thou didst permit them. When once I was saying my office, and came to this verse, " Thou art just, Lord ! and Thy judgments are right,'' as I was sometimes subject to this temptation, I began to consider how true these words were. In this respect, the devil never had any power to tempt me so far, as to make me doubt but that Thou, Lord ! art the author of all goodness ; nor could he prevail over me in anything relating to Faith : rather did it seem to me, that the more the articles of faith were above nature, the more firndy did I believe them, and the more devotion they excited within me. And as Thou art omnipotent, all the manifestations of Thy greatness which Thou mightest display, I resolved upon to ex- ecute ; and of this (as I have said) I had no doubt. And when I was afterwards considering how, since Thou art just. Thou couldst permit so many dear servants of Thine to be without having received those favors and caresses which Thou didst bestow upon me. Thou didst return this answer : " Serve Me, and do not trouble thyself about anything else." These were the first words which I heard You speak to me, and therefore I was greatly astonished thereat. I will afterwards declare this manner of hearing and understand things, together with other matters. I do not wish to speak of them here, for they would be out of place, and I think I have wandered from my subject already : indeed, I scarcely know what I have said. But it cannot be otherwise, and your Reverence must bear with these interruptions ; for when I consider how much God has endured from me, and when I see mvself in this state, it will not be strange if I lose the thread of what I say, and of what I intend saying. May our Lord grant that all my wanderings may be ol this kind ; and may His Majesty never permit me to wander a hair's breadth from Him ; rather may I be consumed, even at this very moment. It is sufficient to consider his great mercies towards me, by which He has pardoned my base in- gratitude, not once, but many times. He pardoned Peter once, but me He pardoned often ; and hence, with reason did the devil tempt me, hoping that I would not pretend to ^rr< LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 173 / 1 hold any close friendship with One to whom I had been so public an enemy. How great was this blindness of mine ! And where could I think, my Lord ! of finding any remedy, but in Thee ? What folly was it to fly from the light, and to go on forever stumbling in the dark ! What an arrogant humility was it which the devil invented for me, by persuading me no longer to support myself against that pillar and staff which could prevent my fall from being so great ! I am now at this moment blessing myself, for I think I never escaped so imminent a danger as this deceit which the devil taught me by the way of humility. Ho made me think it would be impossible that so wretched a creature as I am, and who had received such great favors from Grod, should ever be able to arrive at mental prayer ; that it would be sufficient if I said those vocal prayers to which I was bound, like all the others did ; but that now, since I did not perform even these prayers well, why should I wish to do more ? This would imply little reverence for God, and it would be undervaluing his favors. It was pro- fitable to think and to know all this ; but to put it in execu- tion would have been a very great evil. Be thou blessed, Lord ! who didst supply me with a remedy ! for this temptation seems to have been nothing less than the begin- ning of that which the devil brought upon Judas ; but the traitor did not dare to attack me so openly as he did Judas : he approached by little and little, just as he attacked him. Let all those who use mental prayer consider this well, for the love of God. Let them know that during the time 1 omitted using it, my life was much worse. Behold, what a fine remedy the devil gave me, and what admirable humility that was which produced in my soul only trouble and un- easiness ! But how, indeed, could my soul find repose ? The wretched creature abandoned her true repose : she remem- bered her favors and graces, and she found that the plea- sures of this world were loathsome. I wonder how I could have remained so long in this state. It was with the hope that I might remain very free" from sin ; for as far as I re- member (though it is now more than twenty- one years), I was always resolved to return to mental prayer. But oh ! how ill-grounded was my hope '• But though I afterwards 15* 174 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. gave myself to prayer and reading (whicli were capable of making me see the truth, and of discovering to n.e the evil course I was holding), and though I often prayed to our Lord with many tears, yet I was so very wicked and wretched, that I knew not how to help myself: and as more- over I began to omit these good practices, and to employ myself in idle pastimes, and to expose myself to many occa- sions of sin, having at the same time but very few helps (or rather, I should say, none at all)y what else could I expect but to lose my soul 1 I believe that a certain religious, of the order of St. Dominic, a very learned man, had much merit before God ; for he it was who roused me from my lethargy. He made me (as I think I have already men- tioned) receive the Blessed Sacrament every fortnight ; and my misery being then not so great, I began to return to my- self again, though I still committed some offences against our Lord. Bat because I had not lost my way, I still went on falling and rising by little and little. But he who per- severes in going forward, will at length arrive at the end nf his journey, though perhaps latt. To me it seems one and the same thing for a soul to lose her way and to leave off her prayer : may our Lord deliver us from this evil, for His mercy's sake. The conclusion to be drawn from what I have said (and I desire it may be well attended to, for the love of our Lord,) is this : that though a soul may arrive at such a de- gree as to induce our Lord to bestow many favors upon her in prayer, yet she must not place any confidence in herself, since she may fall 5 nor must she on any account expose herself to occasions of sin. Let her consider this well; for the deceit which the devil may employ afterwards is very great ; and though the favors received might most certainly be from God, yet the traitor will not fail to take advantage of these favors in whatever way he can, especially against persons who are not strong in virtue and mortification, nor entirely disengaged from this world ; such should remember, that they are not, by means of this prayer, sufficiently forti- fied (as I shall afterwards declare,) if they should place themselves in dangerous occasions, however strong their de- sires and resolutions may be. This is excellent doctrine ; LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 175 and it is not mine, but taught by God himself,- and so I shall be glad if all ignorant persons, like myself, would learn it, because though a soul may have arrived at this de- gree of prayer, she must never trust herself so far as to go forth to the combat ; she will do enough if she can defend herself. In this state it will be necessary for her to use arms, to defend herself against the devils, for as yet she has not strength enough to attack them, and much less to tread them under her feet, as those persons will be able to do who shall have arrived at that state of which I shall afterwards speak. This is a deceit of the devil, by which he imposes upon us, viz., that when once he sees a soul has arrived so near to God as to see what a difference there is between the joys of this life and the next, and to know what love our Lord shows to her, from this very love he makes such a confidence and security to arise, as if she would never fall away from what she is enjoying. She also appears to see her reward so clearly, that she is easily induced to consider it impossible for her to leave that which, even in this life, is so pleasant and delightful, for the pleasures of this world, which are so base and insignificant. By this confidence the devil deprives her of that distrust she ought to have in her own strength ; and thus (as I was saying) she exposes herself to danger, and begins with great zeal to give atvay to others, without any rule or measure, the fruit of her garden, thinking she has no longer any reason to be afraid of herself. And she imagines this is not done through pride (for the soul knows well she can do nothing of herself ) but through the great confidence she has in God. But all this is done without discretion, because she does not consider that she has as yet hardly any feathers : she may indeed get out of the nest, and God himself takes her out ; but she cannot fly, because her virtues are not yet strong enough ; neither has she suffi- cient experience to know her dangers, nor is she aware of the evil which arises from putting confidence in herself. This is what ruined me ; and hence a director and con- versation with spiritual persons are very necessary for this ' and other objects. I am fully persuaded that when God once brings a soul to this state, He will continue to caress her, and not suffer her to perish, if she do not entirely forsake 176 LIFE OP ST. TERESA. Him. But if she should fall, let her consider, and consider again, for the love of God, lest the devil should deceive her, by inducing her to omit mental prayer, as he induced me under a false humility : this I have already mentioned, and I wish to mention it very often. But let her trust in the goodness of God, which is greater than all the sins we can commit ; and let her hope that He will not remember our in- gratitude, when knowing ourselves we wish to return to His friendship again, nor the favors He has bestfv,ved upon us, so as to make us be punished for them ; but that rather they will obtain pardon for us so much the sooner, as for persons who have belonged to His house, and have eaten of His bread, as the saying is, let them remember His words, and consider how He has proceeded with me ; for I grew tired with offending His Majesty, before He grew tired with par- doning me. Never does he grow weary in giving ; never can His mercies be dried up ; and so let us never grow weary of receiving His favors. May He be blessed forever, Amen, May all creatures praise Him. CHAPTER XX. THE SAINT TREATS OF THE DIFFERENCE WHICH EXISTS BETWEEN UNION AND RAPTURE, ETC. I SHOULD be glad to know how to explain, by the Divine assistance, the difference there is between union and rapture, or, as it is called, elevation of the soul, for these mean one and the same thing. It is also called an " Ecstasy :" the names are different, but they signify one and the same thing. The advantage arising from " Rapture" is very great. The effects, likewise, as well as many other operations which it produces, are much greater, for " Union" seems to be the same both in the beginning, in the middle, and in the end, and it takes place in the interior. But as a " Rapture" is an elevation of the soul in a much higher degree, it produces effects both interior and exterior. May our Lord enable me to explain this part of the subject, as He has assisted me in the rest j for, certainly, if His LIFE OP ST. TERESA. 177 Majesty had not made me understand, by what means and in what manner it might be done, I should not have been able to say anything. Let us now consider that this last water (of which I have been speaking) is so very plentiful and abundant, that if we were capable of receiving it, we should believe the cloud of that divine Majesty were with us, which waters our souls here upon earth. And thus, when we are grateful to our Lord for this great blessing, and acknowledge our gratitude by our good works, according to our strength, our Lord al tracts that soul, just in the same way as the clouds at- tract the vapors from the earth, and mount up towards heaven : and so He takes the soul along with Him himself, and begins to show her the riches of that kingdom which He has prepared for her. I know not if the comparison be just and suitable, but this happens truly and really. In these raptures, it seems as if the soul did not animate the body : it feels very sensibly the want of natural heat, and becomes cold, though possessing the greatest sweetness and delight. Here there is no means of resisting, though in ^' Union" (being then in our own country) there is a remedy ; and so we may almost always resist, though not without pain and using some violence. But here, for the most part, there is no remedy at all ; for very often the rapture happens with- out our thinking of it, or employing any means of bringing it on : and then there comes such a quick and strong im- petuosity, that you see and feel this cloud raising itself up, or rather, this strong eagle carries you away between her wings (and this is understood), for you know you are carried away, though you know not whither, because though you may feel delight, yet so great is the weakness of our nature that it makes us fear at first. Hence it will be necessary for the soul to be much more determined and courageous than she was when in the degree of union, in order to be able to hazard everything, and to abandon herself entirely into the hands of God, and willingly to go wheresoever she shall be carried, though they will take her whether willing or no. Sometimes the rapture was so great that very, very often I wished to resist, and employed all my strength for this object (especially when the raptures happened in public, 178 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. and many other times also wlien tbey were private), fearing lest I might be deluded. Sometimes I was able to make a sliirht resistance, but it cost me great trouble ; for it seemed like one fighting with a strong giant, so that afterwards I found myself very tired : but at other times it was impos- sible to resist, for my soul was carried quite away ; and generally even my head, and sometimes my whole body, were raised from the ground. This last happened but seldom : it happened once, however^ when we were altogether in the choir, and when I was on my knees (being then about to re- ceive the Blessed Sacrament). I was exceedingly troubled thereat ; and as it seemed to me to be a very extraordinary circumstance, and that great notice might be immediately taken of it, I commanded the nuns not to speak of it ; and this I did oecause I then held the office of prioress. But, at other times, when I began to see that our Lord was about to do the same again (once in particular, during a sermon, be- ing the feast of our patron, and in the presence of many ladies of quality), I cast myself on the ground ; and though the Religious came and kept my body down, yet the rapture was easily perceived. I accordingly besought our Lord that He would no more grant me such favors as would bear ex- terior demonstrations, because I was already very weary by being so watchful over myself, and His Majesty could not bestow such favors upon me without their being known. And it seems that, through His goodness. He has heard my prayer, for since that time I have had no raptures of the kind^ though it is not long since the last happened. But when I wished to resist, there seemed to be some- thing under my feet of such great strength, that I know not what to compare it to ; and it came with much greater im- petuosity than any other thing which I ever experienced in my soul : hence I was torn, as it were, to pieces, because the combat was terrible. In a word, all my resistance was of little use, because when our Lord wishes to do anything, Txo power can stand against Him. At other times He is pleased to content Himself with letting us see that He de- sires to do us this favor, and that it only remains for us to receive it from His Majesty ; and when we resist for the sake of humility, the same effects follow, as if we had en- LIFE OP ST. TERESA. 179 tirely consented. These effects are very great : first, the great power of our Lord is made manifest thereby : second, that when His Majesty wishes, we are as little able to detain our bodies as our souls ; that we are not masters of them, but that there is a Superior by whom all these favors are given ; and that, being nothing ourselves, we can do nothing. These considerations fill us with deep humility : and I acknowledge that these raptures excited in mc great fear : and at the beginning I was extremely terrified to see a body raised from the earth ; for though it is the spirit which draws it after her, and this with great feelings of de- light if no resistance be made, yet we do not lose our senses ; at least, I had mine in such a manner that I was able to un- derstand I had been raised up. There also appears so great a majesty in Him who can do this, that it makes even the hair of one's head stand on end ; and there remains a great fear of offending so mighty a God : this fear, however, is accompanied by an exceeding great love, which the soul con- ceives again for Him, who she sees bears so deep a love for such a wretched worm ; for He seems not content with really drawing the soul to Himself, but He wishes to draw the body also, even when it is mortal and composed of such filthy dust as we have made it by our sins. This also leaves in the soul a particular disengagement from all things in the. world, but I cannot explain what it is. I think, however, 1 may say, that it is not only in some degree a different, but also a much greater kind of favor, than any of those other things which act on the soul alone ; for though in those other visitations, there is also, as far as relates to the soul, a total disengagement from the things of this world, yet here, it seems, our Lord is pleased, that even the body itself should act in the sam<=^ manner : it likewise excites such a new aversion for the pleasures of this life, that it makes life itself much more painful to us. It afterwards gives another pain, which we can neither procure when we have it not, nor free ourselves from when we have it. I should be very glad to be able to make this " great pain" understood, but I think I shall not be able ; still, I will say something, if I can. L must remark, that these thin;2;s now happen at the very last, after all those visions and revelations whereof I shall 180 LIFE OP ST. TERESA. write, and during the time wben I am in prayer, when our Lord is accustomed to give me very great sweetness and caresses ; and though I sometimes continue to experience the same sweetness, yet the pain of which I shall now speak comes upon me much more frequently. It is sometimes less and sometimes greater. I now wish to speak of the greater, because though I shall treat hereafter of those great im- petuosities which I experienced when our Lord was pleased to give me those raptures ; yet, in my opinion, there was as little resemblance between them, as there is between things spiritual and corporal. I believe I do not at all exaggerate the matter, because this pain seems to be such, that though the soul feels it, yet she feels it together with the body, and so both of them share in it ; but she feels n* t that extremity of abandonment which this pain causes, and in which (as I have already mentioned) we have no part ourselves. But there often comes unexpectedly a kind of transport, the cause of which I know not ] and this transport, which penetrates the whole soul in an instant, b'^-rins to agitate the soul to such a degree, that she rises above herself and all created things ; and God makes her so disgusted with them, that however much she may strive, she cannot find on earth any creature for a companion : and even if she could, she would prefer to die in that solitude. If people speak to her, or if she employed all the power which she could possibly possess, in speaking to others, it would be of little use, for her spirit (however much she may strive) is still attached to that soli- tude. And though it seems to me, as if God were there at a very great distance from her, yet at times He communi- cates His greatness to her, in a manner the most extraordi- nary that can be imagined or expressed ; and I think that he only can believe or understand it who has experienced it himself; for it is no communication to give comfort, but only to show the reason which he has to be afflicted, on account of being absent from that good which comprehends all good. By means of this communication, the desire increases of remaining in that extreme solitude in which the soul finds herself, together with a pain which is so very acute and penetrating-, that she may then, I think (being placed in this desert), literally make use of these words : " I have watched, LIFE OP ST. TERESA. 18i' and become as a sparrow all alone on the house-top/' These words the royal prophet, perhaps, spoke when he was in the same solitude ; but being a saint, our Lord made him feel them in a more sensible manner. This verse comes into my mind, because it seems as if I see myself in it ; and I aon consoled in seeing that other persons also have found them- selves in such great solitude, and the greatest saints more than any one else. And thus it appears that the soul in this state is raised, not only above all created things, but even above herself. At other times, the soul seems to find herself in the very extremity of misery, asking herself this question : " Where is thy Grod ? " I must remark, that I did not under- stand the meaning of these words in the Psalms ; but after they were explained to me, I was much comforted in seeing that our Lord brought them to my memory, without any endeavor on my part. At other times, I remembered the words of St. Paul, " tha he was crucified to the world." I say not that I was crucified, for I see clearly I am not ; but it seems to me, that the soul in this case, is as it were, crucified, and suspended between earth and heaven ; and hence no comfort comes from heaven, because she is not there, nor from the earth, because she is no longer upon it ; and she suffers all the time, without receiving any succor from either place. That which does come to her from heaven, is so great a knowledge of God, that she loses herself in the contemplation of His infinite greatness ; and this knowledge increases rather than diminishes her pain, because her desire of possessing Him increases in such a manner, that, in my opinion, the excessive pain sometimes takes away her senses ; but she remains without them only a little while. This state seems to be the very agony of death itself; and yet it is accompanied with such a great pleasure and content in suffer- ing, that I know not what to compare it to. It is a sharp and yet a delightful kind of martydom, since everything relating to this world which can possibly be represented to the soul, even though it were the most delightful object, is on no account admitted, but rather it is immediately cast away from her. She understands well, that she cares for nothing but for her God; and yet she loves in Him no 16 182 LIFE OP ST. TERESA. particular perfection, but all His perfections together ; still, she knows not what she wishes or desires. I say, she knows not, because her imagination represents nothing to her ; and during all the time she remains in this state, the powers of the soul do not (in my opinion) produce that joy which is felt in union and rapture ; the pain entirely suspends them. Oh ! that I were able to make your Reverence under- stand what I have been saying, even were it only for the object of your telling me what the state is in which the soul finds herself, for this is the condition in which my soul generally remains. When she is not occupied, she then falls into these agonies of death ; and she is afraid when she sees them begin, lest she might die under them. But yet when once begun, she would be glad to remain in this suffering state during all the time of her life, though the pain is so very excessive that the person is scarce able to endure it. Sometimes I am almost without any pulse at all (as my sisters tell me when they come to see what is the matter, for now they understand a little more about me), and the bones of my very arms are quite exposed, and my hands become so stiff that sometimes I cannot close them ; and thus the pain remains in my wrists till the next day, and in my whole body also in such a manner, that it seems as if I had been disjointed. Sometimes I think, if I continue in this state, that our Lord will be pleased to end it by my life coming to an end ; for, in my opinion, so great suffering is sufi&cient for this object, except only that I do not deserve such a happiness. All my desire then is to die : I neither remember purgatory, nor those great sins I have committed, for which I deserve hell ; all is forgotten through my desire of seeing God, and the desert and solitude then appear to me far sweeter than all the society of the whole world. If any- thing could give her comfort, it would be to converse with some one who had experienced this same torment ; for now, though she complains thereof, no one it seems will believe her. The extremity of this pain also contributes to her torment, since she neither wishes for solitude as others do, nor for any company, except for those persons to whom she might be able to complain. It is with her as with one who has a halter about his neck ; and who, while he is strangling. LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 183 endeavors to take his breath ; and thus does this desire for company seem to me to be the effect of our natural weakness. And as this pain puts us in danger of death (that such is the effect is certain, for sometimes I have seen myself in this danger, through my great infirmities and other occasions which I have mentioned ; and I think I may say that this danger is as great as all the rest); so the desire which both body and soul have not to be separated, is that which asks the help of taking breath ; and, by expressing the desire, and complaining, and diverting itself, it seeks for some means of living, though much against the will of the spirit, or of the superior part of the soul, which does not wish to be free from this pain. I know not if I am correct in what I say, or if I know how to speak ; but to the best of my judgment, this is the state of the soul. Your Keverence may now see what kind of ease I can enjoy in this life, since that which I used to find in prayer and solitude (for therein our Lord consoled me much) is now changed into this torment; and yet it is so delicious, and the soul sees it to be of such value, that she now delights in it more than in all those other caresses she used to enjoy. It seems to her more secure, because it is the way of the cross, and it possesses in itself a pleasure of great value also, in my opinion ; because she allows the body nothing but pain, and the soul is that which suffers, and which alone feels the joy and content which this suffering gives her. I know not how all this can be, but yet it is so ; and I would not change this favor which our Lord bestows upon me (which comes from His hand, as I have said, and is in no way acquired by me, because it is entirely supernatural), for all those others which I shall afterwards speak of : I say not, for all of them together, but for any one of them taken separately. With regard to these impetuosities, it must be remembered that they happened after those favors which our Lord first bestowed upon me, and also after all that whereof I shall make mention in this book, and likewise after having received that favor which our Lord now gives me. As I -was m some fear at the beginning (and this happens almost always when our Lord does me any favor^ until, as I proceed, I receive some security from His Majesty), He told me ^^not to 184 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. fear," but to esteem this favor greater than all the others He had bestowed upon me, because the soul was purified by this pain, and was burnished and refined, as gold was in the crucible, that so she might be better prepared for receiving the enamels of His gifts ; and that being purified here, she might have the less to suffer in purgatory. I knew well that this was a great favor : but after this I enjoyed much more security, and n\y confessor also tells me that it is good. And though I was formerly afraid, yet, because I am so wicked, I could never believe it was bad ; but rather, the very great- ness of the benefit gave me a certain fear, when I remembered how far I was from deserving it. Blessed be the Lord who is so good. Amen. I think I have wandered from my subject, for I began by speaking of raptures ; but what I have just been speaking of is much greater than raptures, and so it leaves those effects in the soul, which I have been relating. I will now speak of these raptures, and of that which usually happens therein. I wish to mention then, how the rapture often left my body so light, that all the weight thereof was quite taken away, and sometimes to such a degree, that I hardly knew how to set my feet on the ground. But when the soul is in a rapture, the body remains as it were dead, being often unable to do anything at all of herself; and as it happens to be at the time, so it remains, whether it be in a sitting posture, or whether the hands be opened or closed ; for though she loses her senses a few times (and the same has happened to me now and then), yet they have been seldom entirely lost, and then only for a short time. The usual effect is, that she is disturbed a little; and though she can do nothing of herself, as far as regards the exterior, yet, she is able both to understand and to hear, as if some- thing were spoken to her from afar off. I say not that she understands and hears when she is in the very height of her rapture ( I use the words, " the very height"), at that time when the faculties are lost, because they are very closely united with God ; and then, in my opinion, she neither sees nor hoars. But, as I mentioned in the former prayer of Union, this total transformation of the soul into God continues only for a short time ; but, as long as it lasts, no power of LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 185 the soul either feels or knows what passes there. And it seems to be for this object, that as long as we live in this world, it is not God's will we should understand what passes there, because we are not capable of understanding it j at least, I myself have experienced this. But jour Reverence will perhaps ask me, how is it that raptures should sometimes last so many hours ? I answer, that what happened to m^ very often (as I have mentioned in the former prayer) is this : that we enjoy raptures only by intervals, and the soul often engulfs herself, or rather (to speak more correctly) our Lord engulfs the soul in Himself; and as He keeps her there for awhile, there remains only her will which she can make use of. As to the exercise of those other two powers, it seems to me to be like that of a needle on a sun-dial, which never stands still ; but yet when the Sun of Justice wishes, He makes them stop. This, I say, lasts but for a short time. As, however, the impulse and exaltation of the spirit were great, the will remains engulfed, and acts like a sovereign lady over all the operations of the body, because those other two restless powers wish to disturb her : the senses, however, do not disturb her. And thus they also are suspended, because our Lord is so pleased. The eyes, too, are mostly shut, though we may not wish to shut them ; and if sometimes they be open, yet, as I have already mentioned, the soul does not consider nor advert to what she sees. The body is now much less able to do anything of herself; and even after the three powers have been united, it can do but little. Let him, therefore, to whom our Lord shall grant this favor, not be astonished when he sees the body so weak for many hours, and his memory and understanding some- times so apt to wander. True it is, that souls are ordinarily, in this state, drowned in the praises of God, and in desiring to comprehend or understand what has taken place in them ; and even for this object they are not wholly awake, but like a person who has slept and dreamt a great deal, and is not yet quite awake. I have thus explained myself at some length, because I know there are persons at this time, and even in this place, on whom our Lord has bestowed these favors ; and if those who direct these religious have not ex- IC* 186 LIFE OF ST. TERESA. perience in these matters, they will perhaps think, especially if they be not learned, that in these raptures the persons are as it were dead. It is a subject of grief to consider how much one suffers from such confessors, who do not understand these matters, as I shall afterwards mention. Perhaps I know not what I say ; but your Reverence will understand if I should say anything to the purpose, since our Lord has already given you experience herein ; though as it is not long since you began, you may not perhaps have considered the subject so much as I have. But though I endeavored to do so very often, and to the best of my power, yet the body has not strength enough to stir itself, for the soul takes all its strength away with her. Thus a sick person often recovers his health, and she who was full of weakness and pain regains her strength, because great favors are given in this state. And sometimes (as I was saying) our Lord is pleased that the body also should experience a certain degree of joy, because it obeys what the soul desires. When she has returned to herself, it may happen (if the rapture has been great), that she will go for a day or two, or even for three days, with the powers so absorbed, and as it were engulfed in God, that she seems out of herself. But in this state she feels it painful to be still obliged to live in the world ; for now, having lost her weak feathers, others have come strong enough to enable her to fly well : now the banner of Christ is so directly unfurled, that there seems to remain nothing more but that the captain of this fort may either ascend himself, or be carried up to the highest tower, there to plant this standard for the glory of God She now looks upon those who are below as one who is already in safety ; for so far is she from fearing danger, that she rather wishes it, like one for whom victory is secured in a most certain manner. Now she sees very clearly how little all wordly things ought to be esteemed, and what a " nothing'^ they are. He who is in a high place sees many things. Now she does not wish to have any other will but the -^ill of our Lord, and she gives Him the keys of hers. From being a gardener, she has now become a governor ; she wishes to do nothing but the will of God, nor does she desire to be the governor of herself, nor indeed of anything, not even of a LIFE OF ST. TERESA. 187 single well in this garden ; and if there be anything good in it, she wishes His Majesty to divide the fruits thereof: for, from that time forward, she desires nothing of her ©wn, but only that all things may be done in conformity with His will and for His glory. Everything happens in this way truly and really, if the raptures be real, and the soul enjoys the eflfects and advantages which I have mentioned. But if such ure not the effects, I should doubt much whether the raptures come from God, but should rather be inclined to fear they were of that kind of ravings whereof St. Vincent speaks. This 1 know, and through experience I have seen that here the soul remains a queen over all things, and acquires in less than an hour so much liberty, that she is not able to know herself. But yet she knows well all this is not her own ; nor does she know how she came to obtain so great a blessing : still she understands clearly the exceeding great advantage which every one of these raptures brings with it. No one can believe all this but he who has experienced it himself, and therefore men cannot believe that a poor soul, which they knew was before so wicked, can so soon undertake to do such wonderful things, because she immediately resolves not to be content with serving onr Lord in small things, but to serve Him in most difficult matters also. But men are apt to imagine that such resolutions are only temptations and fool- ishness. But if they would consider that they come not from herself, but from our Lord, to whom she has already given up the keys of her will, they would not wonder so much at it, I am of opinion, that a soul which arrives at this state neither says nor does anything of herself, but this Sovereign King takes care of everything which is to be done. O my God ! how clearly does a soul see here the meaning of that verse, "Who will give me the wings of a dove?" The prophet David had reason to make this request, and so have we all. That " flight " is clearly meant which the soul takes, in order to raise herself above all creatures, and before all things above herself but this " flight " is sweet ; it is a pleasant flight, and a flight without noise. What dominion does such a soul possess which our Lord conducts to this degree, that she looks down upon all things without being entangled by them ! How full of confusion is she for the 188 LIFE OF ST. TEEESA. time in which she was entangled by them ! How astonished at her blindness ! How full of compassion for those who still remain in this blindness, especially if they be people of prayer, and such as God is pleased to caress ! She desires to cry aloud, that so all may understand how much they have been deceived, and this she does sometimes ; and then men pour down upon her head a thousand persecutions ; they treat her as having but little humility, and as one who wishes to teach those from whom she ought rather to learn, especially if she be a woman, then they condemn her ; and perhaps they have reason for so doing, because they know not by what impulse she is moved. And as she knows not how to help herself on the one hand, so on the other she cannot forbear undeceiving those persons whom she loves, and whom she desires to behold free from the prison of this life, for the state wherein she was seems neither more nor less than a prison. She is much afflicted at the thought of that time in which she attended to points of honor ) and for the error and de^ ceit into which she fell, by believing that to be honor which the world calls honor. She sees that it is a very gross lie, and that all men live in the practice of it. But now she un- derstands that real honor is not false, but true ; and she esteems that to be worth something which indeed is so, and considers that to be nothing which is in reality so ; since all is nothing, and less than nothing, which will one day have an end, and because it does not please God. She laughs at herself for the time in which she made any account of mo- ney, and had a desire for it: though in this particular I do not believe (and this is the truth) that I ever had any fault to confess ; but it would have been a fault to have esteemed or desired money in any way. If by means of it I could have purchased those blessings which I now see in myself, I might have valued it very much ; but the soul now perceives that such blessings are purchased best by leaving all things. And what is that which can be purchased by this money, which men so much desire ? Is it anything of value ? Any- thing durable ? And for what object do we desire it ? A miserable repose is purchased, and dearly does it cost us; for often do we purchase hell by it, endless torments in LIFE OF ST. TERESA, 189 eyerlasting fire ! ! that all men, then, would resolve to consider it as earth, which is good for nothing ! In what harmony would the world then move ! How free from unjust contracts ! In what friendship would all men live, if they would not hanker after honors or riches ! In that case I think every evil would be remedied. The soul also sees that there is great blindness respecting the delights of this world, and that by them nothing is pur- chased, even for this life, but trouble and afl3iction. What trouble, and what little pleasure ! What labor in vain ! Here she perceives not only the cobwebs of her soul — that is, her great faults — but even the smallest grain of dust, be- cause the Sun is very bright. And so, however much the soul may have labored to perfect herself, if this same Sun should truly strike her with its beams, then she sees how dusty everything is. It is like a glass full of water, which you think to be very pure and clear, if the sun do not shine upon it ; but when the sun does shine, you find it to be all full of animalculae. This comparison is literally true ; for before the soul is in this ecstasy, she thinks that she has been very careful not to oflPend God, and that she endeavored to do so to the best of her power. But when she has arrived so far, that this Sun of Justice makes her open her eyes, then she sees so many motes in them that she would be glad to shut them again ; for she has not yet become so strong, like the courageous eagle which bred her, as steadily to fix her eyes on this Sun. But however little she may open them, she sees herself covered with imperfections, and then she remembers the verse, " Who shall be pure in Thy sight?" W^hen she beholds this Divine Sun, she is dazzled by the brightness thereof: but when she looks upon herself, her eyes are stopped up with clay ; and so this little dove is blind. And sometimes it happens that she remains entirely blind, being absorbed, amazed, and as it were out of herself, at all the greatness that