Other Graces Bestowed on the Saint. The Promises of Our Lord to Her. Divine Locutions and Visions.
1. I was once importuning our Lord exceedingly to restore the sight of a person who had claims upon me, and who was almost wholly blind. I was very sorry for him, and afraid our Lord would not hear me because of my sins. He appeared to me as at other times, and began to show the wound in His left hand; with the other He drew out the great nail that was in it, and it seemed to me that, in drawing the nail, He tore the flesh. The greatness of the pain was manifest, and I was very much distressed thereat. He said to me, that He who had borne that for my sake would still more readily grant what I asked Him, and that I was not to have any doubts about it. He promised me there was nothing I should ask that He would not grant; that He knew I should ask nothing that was not for His glory, and that He would grant me what I was now praying for. Even during the time when I did not serve Him, I should find, if I considered it, I had asked nothing that He had not granted in an ampler manner than I had known how to ask; how much more amply still would He grant what I asked for, now that He knew I loved Him! I was not to doubt. I do not think that eight days passed before our Lord restored that person to sight. My confessor knew it forthwith. It might be that it was not owing to my prayer; but, as I had had the vision, I have a certain conviction that it was a grace accorded to me. I gave thanks to His Majesty.
2. Again, a person was exceedingly ill of a most painful disease; but, as I do not know what it was, I do not describe it by its name here. What he had gone through for two months was beyond all endurance; and his pain was so great that he tore his own flesh. My confessor, the rector of whom I have spoken, [1] went to see him; he was very sorry for him, and told me that I must anyhow go myself and visit him; he was one whom I might visit, for he was my kinsman. I went, and was moved to such a tender compassion for him that I began, with the utmost importunity, to ask our Lord to restore him to health. Herein I saw clearly how gracious our Lord was to me, so far as I could judge; for immediately, the next day, he was completely rid of that pain.
3. I was once in the deepest distress, because I knew that a person to whom I was under great obligations was about to commit an act highly offensive to God and dishonourable to himself. He was determined upon it. I was so much harassed by this that I did not know what to do in order to change his purpose; and it seemed to me as if nothing could be done. I implored God, from the bottom of my heart, to find a way to hinder it; but till I found it I could find no relief for the pain I felt. In my distress, I went to a very lonely hermitage,--one of those belonging to this monastery,--in which there is a picture of Christ bound to the pillar; and there, as I was imploring our Lord to grant me this grace, I heard a voice of exceeding gentleness, speaking, as it were, in a whisper. [2] My whole body trembled, for it made me afraid. I wished to understand what was said, but I could not, for it all passed away in a moment.
4. When my fears had subsided, and that was immediately, I became conscious of an inward calmness, a joy and delight, which made me marvel how the mere hearing a voice,--I heard it with my bodily ears,--without understanding a word, could have such an effect on the soul. I saw by this that my prayer was granted; and so it was; and I was freed from my anxieties about a matter not yet accomplished, as it afterwards was, as completely as if I saw it done. I told my confessors of it, for I had two at this time, both of them learned men, and great servants of God.
5. I knew of a person who had resolved to serve God in all earnestness, and had for some days given himself to prayer, in which he bad received many graces from our Lord, but who had abandoned his good resolutions because of certain occasions of sin in which he was involved, and which he would not avoid; they were extremely perilous. This caused me the utmost distress, because the person was one for whom I had a great affection, and one to whom I owed much. For more than a month I believe I did nothing else but pray to God for his conversion. One day, when I was in prayer, I saw a devil close by in a great rage, tearing to pieces some paper which he had in his hands. That sight consoled me greatly, because it seemed that my prayer had been heard. So it was, as I learnt afterwards; for that person had made his confession with great contrition, and returned to God so sincerely, that I trust in His Majesty he will always advance further and further. May He be blessed for ever! Amen.
6. In answer to my prayers, our Lord has very often rescued souls from mortal sins and led others on to greater perfection. But as to the delivering of souls out of purgatory, and other remarkable acts, so many are the mercies of our Lord herein, that were I to speak of them I should only weary myself and my reader. But He has done more by me for the salvation of souls than for the health of the body. This is very well known, and there are many to bear witness to it.
7. At first it made me scrupulous, because I could not help thinking that our Lord did these things in answer to my prayer; I say nothing of the chief reason of all--His pure compassion. But now these graces are so many, and so well known to others, that it gives me no pain to think so. I bless His Majesty, and abase myself, because I am still more deeply in His debt; and I believe that He makes my desire to serve Him grow, and my love revive.
8. But what amazes me most is this: however much I may wish to pray for those graces which our Lord sees not to be expedient, I cannot do it; and if I try, I do so with little earnestness, force, and spirit: it is impossible to do more, even if I would. But it is not so as to those which His Majesty intends to grant. These I can pray for constantly, and with great importunity; though I do not carry them in my memory, they seem to present themselves to me at once. [3]
9. There is a great difference between these two ways of praying, and I know not how to explain it. As to the first, when I pray for those graces which our Lord does not mean to grant,--even though they concern me very nearly,--I am like one whose tongue is tied; who, though he would speak, yet cannot; or, if he speaks, sees that people do not listen to him. And yet I do not fail to force myself to pray, though not conscious of that fervour which I have when praying for those graces which our Lord intends to give. In the second case, I am like one who speaks clearly and intelligibly to another, whom he sees to be a willing listener.
10. The prayer that is not to be heard is, so to speak, like vocal prayer; the other is a prayer of contemplation so high that our Lord shows Himself in such a way as to make us feel He hears us, and that He delights in our prayer, and that He is about to grant our petition. Blessed be He for ever who gives me so much and to whom I give so little! For what is he worth, O my Lord, who does not utterly abase himself to nothing for Thee? How much, how much, how much,--I might say so a thousand times,--I fall short of this! It is on this account that I do not wish to live,--though there be other reasons also,--because I do not live according to the obligations which bind me to Thee. What imperfections I trace in myself! what remissness in Thy service! Certainly, I could wish occasionally I had no sense, that I might be unconscious of the great evil that is in me. May He who can do all things help me!
11. When I was staying in the house of that lady of whom I have spoken before, [4] it was necessary for me to be very watchful over myself, and keep continually in mind the intrinsic vanity of all the things of this life, because of the great esteem I was held in, and of the praises bestowed on me. There was much there to which I might have become attached, if I had looked only to myself; but I looked to Him who sees things as they really are, not to let me go out of His hand. Now that I speak of seeing things as they really are, I remember how great a trial it is for those to whom God has granted a true insight into the things of earth to have to discuss them with others. They wear so many disguises, as our Lord once told me,--and much of what I am saying of them is not from myself, but rather what my Heavenly Master has taught me; and therefore, in speaking of them, when I say distinctly I understood this, or our Lord told me this, I am very scrupulous neither to add nor to take away one single syllable; so, when I do not clearly remember everything exactly, that must be taken as coming from myself, and some things, perhaps, are so altogether. I do not call mine that which is good, for I know there is no other good in me but only that which our Lord gave me when I was so far from deserving it: I call that mine which I speak without having had it made known to me by revelation.
12. But, O my God, how is it that we too often judge even spiritual things, as we do those of the world, by our own understanding, wresting them grievously from their true meaning? We think we may measure our progress by the years which we have given to the exercise of prayer; we even think we can prescribe limits to Him who bestows His gifts not by measure [5] when He wills, and who in six months can give to one more than to another in many years. This is a fact which I have so frequently observed in many persons, that I am surprised how any of us can deny it.
13. I am certainly convinced that he will not remain under this delusion who possesses the gift of discerning spirits, and to whom our Lord has given real humility; for such a one will judge of them by the fruits, by the good resolutions and love,--and our Lord gives him light to understand the matter; and herein He regards the progress and advancement of souls, not the years they may have spent in prayer; for one person may make greater progress in six months than another in twenty years, because, as I said before, our Lord gives to whom He will, particularly to him who is best disposed.
14. I see this in certain persons of tender years who have come to this monastery,--God touches their hearts, and gives them a little light and love. I speak of that brief interval in which He gives them sweetness in prayer, and then they wait for nothing further, and make light of every difficulty, forgetting the necessity even of food; for they shut themselves up for ever in a house that is unendowed, as persons who make no account of their life, for His sake, who, they know, loves them. They give up everything, even their own will; and it never enters into their mind that they might be discontented in so small a house, and where enclosure is so strictly observed. They offer themselves wholly in sacrifice to God.
15. Oh, how willingly do I admit that they are better than I am! and how I ought to be ashamed of myself before God! What His Majesty has not been able to accomplish in me in so many years,--it is long ago since I began to pray, and He to bestow His graces upon me,--He accomplished in them in three months, and in some of them even in three days, though he gives them much fewer graces than He gave to me: and yet His Majesty rewards them well; most assuredly they are not sorry for what they have done for Him.
16. I wish, therefore, we reminded ourselves of those long years which have gone by since we made our religious profession. I say this to those persons, also, who have given themselves long ago to prayer, but not for the purpose of distressing those who in a short time have made greater progress than we have made, by making them retrace their steps, so that they may proceed only as we do ourselves. We must not desire those who, because of the graces God has given them, are flying like eagles, to become like chickens whose feet are tied. Let us rather look to His Majesty, and give these souls the reins, if we see that they are humble; for our Lord, who has had such compassion upon them, will not let them fall into the abyss.
17. These souls trust themselves in the hands of God, for the truth, which they learn by faith, helps them to do it; and shall not we also trust them to Him, without seeking to measure them by our measure which is that of our meanness of spirit? We must not do it; for if we cannot ascend to the heights of their great love and courage,--without experience none can comprehend them--let us humble ourselves, and not condemn them; for, by this seeming regard to their progress, we hinder our own, and miss the opportunity our Lord gives us to humble ourselves, to ascertain our own shortcomings, and learn how much more detached and more near to God these souls must be than we are, seeing that His Majesty draws so near to them Himself.
18. I have no other intention here, and I wish to have no other, than to express my preference for the prayer that in a short time results in these great effects, which show themselves at once; for it is impossible they should enable us to leave all things only to please God, if they were not accompanied with a vehement love. I would rather have that prayer than that which lasted many years, but which at the end of the time, as well as at the beginning, never issued in a resolution to do anything for God, with the exception of some trifling services, like a grain of salt, without weight or bulk, and which a bird might carry away in its mouth. Is it not a serious and mortifying thought that we are making much of certain services which we render our Lord, but which are too pitiable to be considered, even if they were many in number? This is my case, and I am forgetting every moment the mercies of our Lord. I do not mean that His Majesty will not make much of them Himself, for He is good; but I wish I made no account of them myself, or even perceived that I did them, for they are nothing worth.
19. But, O my Lord, do Thou forgive me, and blame me not, if I try to console myself a little with the little I do, seeing that I do not serve Thee at all; for if I rendered Thee any great services, I should not think of these trifles. Blessed are they who serve Thee in great deeds; if envying these, and desiring to do what they do, were of any help to me, I should not be so far behind them as I am in pleasing Thee; but I am nothing worth, O my Lord; do Thou make me of some worth, Thou who lovest me so much.
20. During one of those days, when this monastery, which seems to have cost me some labour, was fully founded by the arrival of the Brief from Rome, which empowered us to live without an endowment; [6] and I was comforting myself at seeing the whole affair concluded, and thinking of all the trouble I had had, and giving thanks to our Lord for having been pleased to make some use of me,--it happened that I began to consider all that we had gone through. Well, so it was; in every one of my actions, which I thought were of some service, I traced so many faults and imperfections, now and then but little courage, very frequently a want of faith; for until this moment, when I see everything accomplished, I never absolutely believed; neither, however, on the other hand, could I doubt what our Lord said to me about the foundation of this house. I cannot tell how it was; very often the matter seemed to me, on the one hand, impossible; and, on the other hand, I could not be in doubt; I mean, I could not believe that it would not be accomplished. In short, I find that our Lord Himself, on His part, did all the good that was done, while I did all the evil. I therefore ceased to think of the matter, and wished never to be reminded of it again, lest I should do myself some harm by dwelling on my many faults. Blessed be He who, when He pleases, draws good out of all my failings! Amen.
21. I say, then, there is danger in counting the years we have given to prayer; for, granting that there is nothing in it against humility, it seems to me to imply something like an appearance of thinking that we have merited, in some degree, by the service rendered. I do not mean that there is no merit in it at all, nor that it will not be well rewarded; yet if any spiritual person thinks, because he has given himself to prayer for many years, that he deserves any spiritual consolations, I am sure he will never attain to spiritual perfection. Is it not enough that a man has merited the protection of God, which keeps him from committing those sins into which he fell before he began to pray, but he must also, as they say, sue God for His own money?
22. This does not seem to me to be deep humility, and yet it may be that it is; however, I look on it as great boldness, for I, who have very little humility, have never ventured upon it. It may be that I never asked for it, because I had never served Him; perhaps, if I had served Him, I should have been more importunate than all others with our Lord for my reward.
23. I do not mean that the soul makes no progress in time, or that God will not reward it, if its prayer has been humble; but I do mean that we should forget the number of years we have been praying, because all that we can do is utterly worthless in comparison with one drop of blood out of those which our Lord shed for us. And if the more we serve Him, the more we become His debtors, what is it, then, we are asking for? for, if we pay one farthing of the debt, He gives us back a thousand ducats. For the love of God, let us leave these questions alone, for they belong to Him. Comparisons are always bad, even in earthly things; what, then, must they be in that, the knowledge of which God has reserved to Himself? His Majesty showed this clearly enough, when those who came late and those who came early to His vineyard received the same wages. [7]
24. I have sat down so often to write, and have been so many days writing these three leaves,--for, as I have said, [8] I had, and have still, but few opportunities,--that I forgot what I had begun with, namely, the following vision. [9]
25. I was in prayer, and saw myself on a wide plain all alone. Round about me stood a great multitude of all kinds of people, who hemmed me in on every side; all of them seemed to have weapons of war in their hands, to hurt me; some had spears, others swords; some had daggers, and others very long rapiers. In short, I could not move away in any direction without exposing myself to the hazard of death, and I was alone, without any one to take my part. In this my distress of mind, not knowing what to do, I lifted up my eyes to heaven, and saw Christ, not in heaven, but high above me in the air, holding out His hand to me, and there protecting me in such a way that I was no longer afraid of all that multitude, neither could they, though they wished it, do me any harm.
26. At first the vision seemed to have no results; but it has been of the greatest help to me, since I understood what it meant. Not long afterwards, I saw myself, as it were, exposed to the like assault, and I saw that the vision represented the world, because everything in it takes up arms against the poor soul. We need not speak of those who are not great servants of our Lord, nor of honours, possessions, and pleasures, with other things of the same nature; for it is clear that the soul, if it be not watchful, will find itself caught in a net,--at least, all these things labour to ensnare it; more than this, so also do friends and relatives, and--what frightens me most--even good people. I found myself afterwards so beset on all sides, good people thinking they were doing good, and I knowing not how to defend myself, nor what to do.
27. O my God, if I were to say in what way, and in how many ways, I was tried at that time, even after that trial of which I have just spoken, what a warning I should be giving to men to hate the whole world utterly! It was the greatest of all the persecutions I had to undergo. I saw myself occasionally so hemmed in on every side, that I could do nothing else but lift up my eyes to heaven, and cry unto God. [10] I recollected well what I had seen in the vision, and it helped me greatly not to trust much in any one, for there is no one that can be relied on except God. In all my great trials, our Lord--He showed it to me--sent always some one on His part to hold out his hand to help me, as it was shown to me in the vision, so that I might attach myself to nothing, but only please our Lord; and this has been enough to sustain the little virtue I have in desiring to serve Thee: be Thou blessed for evermore!
28. On one occasion I was exceedingly disquieted and troubled, unable to recollect myself, fighting and struggling with my thoughts, running upon matters which did not relate to perfection; and, moreover, I did not think I was so detached from all things as I used to be. When I found myself in this wretched state, I was afraid that the graces I had received from our Lord were illusions, and the end was that a great darkness covered my soul. In this my distress our Lord began to speak to me: He bade me not to harass myself, but learn, from the consideration of my misery, what it would be if He withdrew Himself from me, and that we were never safe while living in the flesh. It was given me to understand how this fighting and struggling are profitable to us, because of the reward, and it seemed to me as if our Lord were sorry for us who live in the world. Moreover, He bade me not to suppose that He had forgotten me; He would never abandon me, but it was necessary I should do all that I could myself.
29. Our Lord said all this with great tenderness and sweetness; He also spoke other most gracious words, which I need not repeat. His Majesty, further showing His great love for me, said to me very often: "Thou art Mine, and I am thine." I am in the habit of saying myself, and I believe in all sincerity: "What do I care for myself?--I care only for Thee, O my Lord."
30. These words of our Lord, and the consolation He gives me, fill me with the utmost shame, when I remember what I am. I have said it before, I think, [11] and I still say now and then to my confessor, that it requires greater courage to receive these graces than to endure the heaviest trials. When they come, I forget, as it were, all I have done, and there is nothing before me but a picture of my wretchedness, and my understanding can make no reflections; this, also, seems to me at times to be supernatural.
31. Sometimes I have such a vehement longing for Communion; I do not think it can be expressed. One morning it happened to rain so much as to make it seem impossible to leave the house. When I had gone out, I was so beside myself with that longing, that if spears had been pointed at my heart, I should have rushed upon them; the rain was nothing. When I entered the church I fell into a deep trance, and saw heaven open--not a door only, as I used to see at other times. I beheld the throne which, as I have told you, my father, I saw at other times, with another throne above it, whereon, though I saw not, I understood by a certain inexplicable knowledge that the Godhead dwelt.
32. The throne seemed to me to be supported by certain animals; I believe I saw the form of them: I thought they might be the Evangelists. But how the throne was arrayed, and Him who sat on it I did not see, but only an exceedingly great multitude of angels, who seemed to me more beautiful, beyond all comparison, than those I had seen in heaven. I thought they were, perhaps, the seraphim or cherubim, for they were very different in their glory, and seemingly all on fire. The difference is great, as I said before; [12] and the joy I then felt cannot be described, either in writing or by word of mouth; it is inconceivable to any one what has not had experience of it. I felt that everything man can desire was all there together, and I saw nothing; they told me, but I know not who, that all I could do there was to understand that I could understand nothing, and see how everything was nothing in comparison with that. So it was; my soul afterwards was vexed to see that it could rest on any created thing: how much more, then, if it had any affection thereto; for everything seemed to me but an ant-hill. I communicated, and remained during Mass. I know not how it was: I thought I had been but a few minutes, and was amazed when the clock struck; I had been two hours in that trance and joy.
33. I was afterwards amazed at this fire, which seems to spring forth out of the true love of God; for though I might long for it, labour for it, and annihilate myself in the effort to obtain it, I can do nothing towards procuring a single spark of it myself, because it all comes of the good pleasure of His Majesty, as I said on another occasion. [13] It seems to burn up the old man, with his faults, his lukewarmness, and misery; so that it is like the phoenix, of which I have read that it comes forth, after being burnt, out of its own ashes into a new life. Thus it is with the soul: it is changed into another, whose desires are different, and whose strength is great. It seems to be no longer what it was before, and begins to walk renewed in purity in the ways of our Lord. When I was praying to Him that thus it might be with me, and that I might begin His service anew, He said to me: "The comparison thou hast made is good; take care never to forget it, that thou mayest always labour to advance."
34. Once, when I was doubting, as I said just now, [14] whether these visions came from God or not, our Lord appeared, and, with some severity, said to me: "O children of men, how long will you remain hard of heart!" I was to examine myself carefully on one subject,--whether I had given myself up wholly to Him, or not. If I had,--and it was so,--I was to believe that He would not suffer me to perish. I was very much afflicted when He spoke thus, but He turned to me with great tenderness and sweetness, and bade me not to distress myself, for He knew already that, so far as it lay in my power, I would not fail in anything that was for His service; that He Himself would do what I wished,--and so He did grant what I was then praying for; that I was to consider my love for Him, which was daily growing in me, for I should see by this that these visions did not come from Satan; that I must not imagine that God would ever allow the devil to have so much power over the souls of His servants as to give them such clearness of understanding and such peace as I had.
35. He gave me also to understand that, when such and so many persons had told me the visions were from God, I should do wrong if I did not believe them. [15]
36. Once, when I was reciting the psalm Quicumque vult, [16] I was given to understand the mystery of One God and Three Persons with so much clearness, that I was greatly astonished and consoled at the same time. This was of the greatest help to me, for it enabled me to know more of the greatness and marvels of God; and when I think of the most Holy Trinity, or hear It spoken of, I seem to understand the mystery, and a great joy it is.
37. One day--it was the Feast of the Assumption of the Queen of the Angels, and our Lady--our Lord was pleased to grant me this grace. In a trance He made me behold her going up to heaven, the joy and solemnity of her reception there, as well as the place where she now is. To describe it is more than I can do; the joy that filled my soul at the sight of such great glory was excessive. The effects of the vision were great; it made me long to endure still greater trials: and I had a vehement desire to serve our Lady, because of her great merits.
38. Once, in one of the colleges of the Society of Jesus, when the brothers of the house were communicating, I saw an exceedingly rich canopy above their heads. I saw this twice; but I never saw it when others were receiving Communion.
1. Ch. xxxiii. § 10. F. Gaspar de Salazar.
2. 3 Kings xix. 12: "Sibilus auræ tenuis."
3. See St. John of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel, bk. iii. ch. i, p. 210).
4. Ch. xxxiv. § 1.
5. St. John iii. 34: "Non enim ad mensuram dat Deus spiritum."
6. See ch. xxxiii. § 15.
7. St. Matt. xx. 9-14: "Volo autem et huic novissimo dare sicut et tibi."
8. Ch. xiv. § 12.
9. The Saint had this vision when she was in the house of Doña Luisa de la Cerda in Toledo, and it was fulfilled in the opposition she met with in the foundation of St. Joseph of Avila. See ch. xxxvi. § 18.
10. 2 Paralip. xx. 12: "Hoc solum habemus residui, ut oculos nostros dirigamus ad Te."
11. Ch. xx. § 4.
12. Ch. xxix. § 16.
13. Ch. xxix. § 13.
14. § 28.
15. See ch. xxviii. §§ 19, 20.
16. Commonly called the Creed of St. Athanasius.
Visions, Revelations, and Locutions.
1. One day, in prayer, the sweetness of which was so great that, knowing how unworthy I was of so great a blessing, I began to think how much I had deserved to be in that place which I had seen prepared for me in hell,--for, as I said before, [1] I never forget the way I saw myself there,--as I was thinking of this, my soul began to be more and more on fire, and I was carried away in spirit in a way I cannot describe. It seemed to me as if I had been absorbed in, and filled with, that grandeur of God which, on another occasion, I had felt. [2] In that majesty it was given me to understand one truth, which is the fulness of all truth, but I cannot tell how, for I saw nothing. It was said to me, I saw not by whom, but I knew well enough it was the Truth Itself: "This I am doing to thee is not a slight matter; it is one of those things for which thou owest Me much; for all the evil in the world comes from ignorance of the truths of the holy writings in their clear simplicity, of which not one iota shall pass away." [3] I thought that I had always believed this, and that all the faithful also believed it. Then he said,: "Ah, My daughter, they are few who love Me in truth; for if men loved Me, I should not hide My secrets from them. Knowest thou what it is to love Me in truth? It is to admit everything to be a lie which is not pleasing unto Me. Now thou dost not understand it, but thou shalt understand it clearly hereafter, in the profit it will be to thy soul."
2. Our Lord be praised, so I found it; for after this vision I look upon everything which does not tend to the service of God as vanity and lies. I cannot tell how much I am convinced of this, nor how sorry I am for those whom I see living in darkness, not knowing the truth. I derived other great blessings also from this, some of which I will here speak of, others I cannot describe.
3. Our Lord at the same time uttered a special word of most exceeding graciousness. I know not how it was done, for I saw nothing; but I was filled, in a way which also I cannot describe, with exceeding strength and earnestness of purpose to observe with all my might everything contained in the divine writings. I thought that I could rise above every possible hindrance put in my way.
4. Of this divine truth, which was put before me I know not how, there remains imprinted within me a truth--I cannot give it a name--which fills me with a new reverence for God; it gives me a notion of His Majesty and power in a way which I cannot explain. I can understand that it is something very high. I had a very great desire never to speak of anything but of those deep truths which far surpass all that is spoken of here in the world,--and so the living in it began to be painful to me.
5. The vision left me in great tenderness, joy, and humility. It seemed to me, though I knew not how, that our Lord now gave me great things; and I had no suspicion whatever of any illusion. I saw nothing; but I understood how great a blessing it is to make no account of anything which does not lead us nearer unto God. I also understood what it is for a soul to be walking in the truth, in the presence of the Truth itself. What I understood is this: that our Lord gave me to understand that He is Himself the very Truth.
6. All this I am speaking of I learnt at times by means of words uttered; at other times I learnt some things without the help of words, and that more clearly than those other things which were told me in words. I understood exceedingly deep truths concerning the Truth, more than I could have done through the teaching of many learned men. It seems to me that learned men never could have thus impressed upon me, nor so clearly explained to me, the vanity of this world.
7. The Truth of which I am speaking, and which I was given to see, is Truth Itself, in Itself. It has neither beginning nor end. All other truths depend on this Truth, as all other loves depend on this love, and all other grandeurs on this grandeur. I understood it all, notwithstanding that my words are obscure in comparison with that distinctness with which it pleased our Lord to show it to me. What think you must be the power of His Majesty, seeing that in so short a time it leaves so great a blessing and such an impression on the soul? O Grandeur! Majesty of mine! what is it Thou art doing, O my Lord Almighty! Consider who it is to whom Thou givest blessings so great! Dost Thou not remember that this my soul has been an abyss of lies and a sea of vanities, and all my fault? Though Thou hadst given me a natural hatred of lying yet I did involve myself in many lying ways. How is this, O my God? how can it be that mercies and graces so great should fall to the lot of one who has so ill deserved them at Thy hands?
8. Once, when I was with the whole community reciting the Office, my soul became suddenly recollected, and seemed to me all bright as a mirror, clear behind, sideways, upwards, and downwards; and in the centre of it I saw Christ our Lord, as I usually see Him. It seemed to me that I saw Him distinctly in every part of my soul, as in a mirror, and at the same time the mirror was all sculptured--I cannot explain it--in our Lord Himself by a most loving communication which I can never describe. I know that this vision was a great blessing to me, and is still whenever I remember it, particularly after Communion.
9. I understood by it, that, when a soul is in mortal sin, this mirror becomes clouded with a thick vapour, and utterly obscured, so that our Lord is neither visible nor present, though He is always present in the conservation of its being. In heretics, the mirror is, as it were, broken in pieces, and that is worse than being dimmed. There is a very great difference between seeing this and describing it, for it can hardly be explained. But it has done me great good; it has also made me very sorry on account of those times when I dimmed the lustre of my soul by my sins, so that I could not see our Lord.
10. This vision seems to me very profitable to recollected persons, to teach them to look upon our Lord as being in the innermost part of their soul. It is a method of looking upon Him which penetrates us more thoroughly, and is much more fruitful, than that of looking upon Him as external to us, as I have said elsewhere, [4] and as it is laid down in books on prayer, where they speak of where we are to seek God. The glorious St. Augustin, [5] in particular, says so, when he says that neither in the streets of the city, nor in pleasures, nor in any place whatever where he sought Him, did he find Him as he found Him within himself. This is clearly the best way; we need not go up to heaven, nor any further than our own selves, for that would only distress the spirit and distract the soul, and bring but little fruit.
11. I should like to point out one result of a deep trance; it may be that some are aware of it. When the time is over during which the soul was in union, wherein all its powers were wholly absorbed,--it lasts, as I have said, [6] but a moment,--the soul continues still to be recollected, unable to recover itself even in outward things; for the two powers--the memory and the understanding--are, as it were, in a frenzy, extremely disordered. This, I say, happens occasionally, particularly in the beginnings. I am thinking whether it does not result from this: that our natural weakness cannot endure the vehemence of the spirit, which is so great, and that the imagination is enfeebled. I know it to be so with some. I think it best for these to force themselves to give up prayer at that time, and resume it afterwards, when they may recover what they have lost, and not do everything at once, for in that case much harm might come of it. I know this by experience, as well as the necessity of considering what our health can bear.
12. Experience is necessary throughout, so also is a spiritual director; for when the soul has reached this point, there are many matters which must be referred to the director. If, after seeking such a one, the soul cannot find him, our Lord will not fail that soul, seeing that He has not failed me, who am what I am: They are not many, I believe, who know by experience so many things, and without experience it is useless to treat a soul at all, for nothing will come of it, save only trouble and distress. But our Lord will take this also into account, and for that reason it is always best to refer the matter to the director. I have already more than once said this, [7] and even all I am saying now, only I do not distinctly remember it; but I do see that it is of great importance, particularly to women, that they should go to their confessor, and that he should be a man of experience herein. There are many more women than men to whom our Lord gives these graces; I have heard the holy friar Peter of Alcantara say so, and, indeed, I know it myself. He used to say that women made greater progress in this way than men did; and he gave excellent reasons for his opinion, all in favour of women; but there is no necessity for repeating them here.
13. Once, when in prayer, I had a vision, for a moment,--I saw nothing distinctly, but the vision was most clear,--how all things are seen in God and how all things are comprehended in Him. I cannot in any way explain it, but the vision remains most deeply impressed on my soul, and is one of those grand graces which our Lord wrought in me, and one of those which put me to the greatest shame and confusion whenever I call my sins to remembrance. I believe, if it had pleased our Lord that I had seen this at an earlier time, or if they saw it who sin against Him, we should have neither the heart nor the daring to do so. I had the vision, I repeat it, but I cannot say that I saw anything; however, I must have seen something, seeing that I explain it by an illustration, only it must have been in a way so subtile and delicate that the understanding is unable to reach it, or I am so ignorant in all that relates to these visions, which seem to be not imaginary. In some of these visions there must be something imaginary, only, as the powers of the soul are then in a trance, they are not able afterwards to retain the forms, as our Lord showed them to it then, and as He would have it rejoice in them.
14. Let us suppose the Godhead to be a most brilliant diamond, much larger than the whole world, or a mirror like that to which I compared the soul in a former vision, [8] only in a way so high that I cannot possibly describe it; and that all our actions are seen in that diamond, which is of such dimensions as to include everything, because nothing can be beyond it. It was a fearful thing for me to see, in so short a time, so many things together in that brilliant diamond, and a most piteous thing too, whenever I think of it, to see such foul things as my sins present in the pure brilliancy of that light.
15. So it is, whenever I remember it, I do not know how to bear it, and I was then so ashamed of myself that I knew not where to hide myself. Oh, that some one could make this plain to those who commit most foul and filthy sins, that they may remember their sins are not secret, and that God most justly resents them, seeing that they are wrought in the very presence of His Majesty, and that we are demeaning ourselves so irreverently before Him! I saw, too, how completely hell is deserved for only one mortal sin, and how impossible it is to understand the exceeding great wickedness of committing it in the sight of majesty so great, and how abhorrent to His nature such actions are. In this we see more and more of His mercifulness, who, though we all know His hatred of sin, yet suffers us to live.
16. The vision made me also reflect, that if one such vision as this fills the souls with such awe, what will it be in the day of judgment, when His Majesty will appear distinctly, and when we too shall look on the sins we have committed! O my God, I have been, oh, how blind! I have often been amazed at what I have written; and you, my father, be you not amazed at anything, but that I am still living,--I, who see such things, and know myself to be what I am. Blessed for ever be He who has borne with me so long!
17. Once, in prayer, with much recollection, sweetness, and repose, I saw myself, as it seemed to me, surrounded by angels, and was close unto God. I began to intercede with His Majesty on behalf of the church. I was given to understand the great services which a particular Order would render in the latter days, and the courage with which its members would maintain the faith.
18. I was praying before the most Holy Sacrament one day; I had a vision of a Saint, whose Order was in some degree fallen. In his hands he held a large book, which he opened, and then told me to read certain words, written in large and very legible letters; they were to this effect: "In times to come this Order will flourish; it will have many martyrs." [9]
19. On another occasion, when I was at Matins in choir, six or seven persons, who seemed to me to be of this Order, appeared and stood before me with swords in their hands. The meaning of that, as I think, is that they are to be defenders of the faith; for at another time, when I was in prayer, I fell into a trance, and stood in spirit on a wide plain, where many persons were fighting; and the members of this Order were fighting with great zeal. Their faces were beautiful, and as it were on fire. Many they laid low on the ground defeated, others they killed. It seemed to me to be a battle with heretics.
20. I have seen this glorious Saint occasionally, and he has told me certain things, and thanked me for praying for his Order, and he has promised to pray for me to our Lord. I do not say which Orders these are,--our Lord, if it so pleased Him, could make them known,--lest the others should be aggrieved. Let every Order, or every member of them by himself, labour, that by his means our Lord would so bless his own Order that it may serve Him in the present grave necessities of His Church. Blessed are they whose lives are so spent.
21. I was once asked by a person to pray God to let him know whether his acceptance of a bishopric would be for the service of God. After Communion our Lord said to me: "When he shall have clearly and really understood that true dominion consists in possessing nothing, he may then accept it." I understood by this that he who is to be in dignity must be very far from wishing or desiring it, or at least he must not seek it.
22. These and many other graces our Lord has given, and is giving continually, to me a sinner. I do not think it is necessary to speak of them, because the state of my soul can be ascertained from what I have written; so also can the spirit which our Lord has given me. May He be blessed for ever, who has been so mindful of me!
23. Our Lord said to me once, consoling me, that I was not to distress myself,--this He said most lovingly,--because in this life we could not continue in the same state. [10] At one time I should be fervent, at another not; now disquieted, and again at peace, and tempted; but I must hope in Him, and fear not.
24. I was one day thinking whether it was a want of detachment in me to take pleasure in the company of those who had the care of my soul, and to have an affection for them, and to comfort myself with those whom I see to be very great servants of God. [11] Our Lord said to me: "It is not a virtue in a sick man to abstain from thanking and loving the physician who seems to restore him to health when he is in danger of death. What should I have done without these persons? The conversation of good people was never hurtful; my words should always be weighed, and holy; and I was not to cease my relations with them, for they would do me good rather than harm."
25. This was a great comfort to me, because, now and then, I wished to abstain from converse with all people; for it seemed to me that I was attached to them. Always, in all things, did our Lord console me, even to the showing me how I was to treat those who were weak, and some other people also. Never did He cease to take care of me. I am sometimes distressed to see how little I do in His service, and how I am forced to spend time in taking care of a body so weak and worthless as mine is, more than I wish.
26. I was in prayer one night, when it was time to go to sleep. I was in very great pain, and my usual sickness was coming on. [12] I saw myself so great a slave to myself, and, on the other hand, the spirit asked for time for itself. I was so much distressed that I began to weep exceedingly, and to be very sorry. This has happened to me not once only, but, as I am saying, very often; and it seems to make me weary of myself, so that at the time I hold myself literally in abhorrence. Habitually, however, I know that I do not hate myself, and I never fail to take that which I see to be necessary for me. May our Lord grant that I do not take more than is necessary!--I am afraid I do.
27. When I was thus distressed, our Lord appeared unto me. He comforted me greatly, and told me I must do this for His love, and bear it; my life was necessary now. And so, I believe, I have never known real pain since I resolved to serve my Lord and my Consoler with all my strength; for though he would leave me to suffer a little, yet He would console me in such a way that I am doing nothing when I long for troubles. And it seems to me there is nothing worth living for but this, and suffering is what I most heartily pray to God for. I say to Him sometimes, with my whole heart: "O Lord, either to die or to suffer! I ask of Thee nothing else for myself." It is a comfort to me to hear the clock strike, because I seem to have come a little nearer to the vision of God, in that another hour of my life has passed away.
28. At other times I am in such a state that I do not feel that I am living, nor yet do I desire to die but I am lukewarm, and darkness surrounds me on every side, as I said before; [13] for I am very often in great trouble. It pleased our Lord that the graces He wrought in me should be published abroad, [14] as He told me some years ago they should be. It was a great pain to me, and I have borne much on that account even to this day, as you, my father, know, because every man explains them in his own sense. But my comfort herein is that it is not my fault that they are become known, for I was extremely cautious never to speak of them but to my confessors, or to persons who I knew had heard of them from them. I was silent, however, not out of humility, but because, as I said before, [15] it gave me great pain to speak of them even to my confessors.
29. Now, however,--to God be the glory!--though many speak against me, but out of a zeal for goodness, and though some are afraid to speak to me, and even to hear my confession, and though others have much to say about me, because I see that our Lord willed by this means to provide help for many souls,--and also because I see clearly and keep in mind how much He would suffer, if only for the gaining of one,--I do not care about it at all.
30. I know not why it is so, but perhaps the reason may in some measure be that His Majesty has placed me in this corner out of the way, where the enclosure is so strict, and where I am as one that is dead. I thought that no one would remember me, but I am not so much forgotten as I wish I was, for I am forced to speak to some people. But as I am in a house where none may see me, it seems as if our Lord had been pleased to bring me to a haven, which I trust in His Majesty will be secure. Now that I am out of the world, with companions holy and few in number, I look down on the world as from a great height, and care very little what people say or know about me. I think much more of one soul's advancement, even if it were but slight, than of all that people may say of me; and since I am settled here it has pleased our Lord that all my desires tend to this.
31. He has made my life to me now a kind of sleep; for almost always what I see seems to me to be seen as in a dream, nor have I any great sense either of pleasure or of pain. If matters occur which may occasion either, the sense of it passes away so quickly that it astonishes me, and leaves an impression as if I had been dreaming,--and this is the simple truth; for if I wished afterwards to delight in that pleasure, or be sorry over that pain, it is not in my power to do so: just as a sensible person feels neither pain nor pleasure in the memory of a dream that is past; for now our Lord has roused my soul out of that state which, because I was not mortified nor dead to the things of this world, made me feel as I did, and His Majesty does not wish me to become blind again.
32. This is the way I live now, my lord and father; do you, my father, pray to God that He would take me to Himself, or enable me to serve Him. May it please His Majesty that what I have written may be of some use to you, my father! I have so little time, [16] and therefore my trouble has been great in writing; but it will be a blessed trouble if I have succeeded in saying anything that will cause one single act of praise to our Lord. If that were the case, I should look upon myself as sufficiently rewarded, even if you, my father, burnt at once what I have written. I would rather it were not burnt before those three saw it, whom you, my father, know of, because they are, and have been, my confessors; for if it be bad, it is right they should lose the good opinion they have of me; and if it be good, they are good and learned men, and I know they will recognise its source, and give praise to Him who hath spoken through me.
33. May His Majesty ever be your protector, and make you so great a saint that your spirit and light may show the way to me a miserable creature, so wanting in humility and so bold as to have ventured to write on subjects so high! May our Lord grant I have not fallen into any errors in the matter, for I had the intention and the desire to be accurate and obedient, and also that through me He might, in some measure, have glory,--because that is what I have been praying for these many years; and as my good works are inefficient for that end, I have ventured to put in order this my disordered life. Still, I have not wasted more time, nor given it more attention, than was necessary for writing it; yet I have put down all that has happened to me with all the simplicity and sincerity possible.
34. May our Lord, who is all-powerful, grant--and He can if He will--that I may attain to the doing of His will in all things! May He never suffer this soul to be lost, which He so often, in so many ways, and by so many means, has rescued from hell and drawn unto Himself! Amen.
I.H.S.
The Holy Spirit be ever with you, my father. [17] Amen. It would not be anything improper if I were to magnify my labour in writing this, to oblige you to be very careful to recommend me to our Lord; for indeed I may well do so, considering what I have gone through in giving this account of myself, and in retracing my manifold wretchedness. But, still, I can say with truth that I felt it more difficult to speak of the graces which I have received from our Lord than to speak of my offences against His Majesty. You, my father, commanded me to write at length; that is what I have done, on condition that you will do what you promised, namely, destroy everything in it that has the appearance of being wrong. I had not yet read it through after I had written it, when your reverence sent for it. Some things in it may not be very clearly explained, and there may be some repetitions; for the time I could give to it was so short, that I could not stop to see what I was writing. I entreat your reverence to correct it and have it copied, if it is to be sent on to the Father-Master, Avila, [18] for perhaps some one may recognise the handwriting. I wish very much you would order it so that he might see it, for I began to write it with a view to that I shall be greatly comforted if he shall think that I am on a safe road, now that, so far as it concerns me, there is nothing more to be done.
Your reverence will do in all things that which to you shall seem good, and you will look upon yourself as under an obligation to take care of one who trusts her soul to your keeping. I will pray for the soul of your reverence to our Lord, so long as I live. You will, therefore, be diligent in His service, in order that you may be able to help me; for your reverence will see by what I have written how profitable it is to give oneself, as your reverence has begun to do, wholly unto Him who gives Himself to us so utterly without measure.
Blessed be His Majesty for ever! I hope of His mercy we shall see one another one day, when we, your reverence and myself, shall see more clearly the great mercies He has shown us, and when we shall praise Him for ever and ever. Amen. This book was finished in June, 1562.
"This date refers to the first account which the holy Mother Teresa of Jesus wrote of her life; it was not then divided into chapters. Afterwards she made this copy, and inserted in it many things which had taken place subsequent to this date, such as the foundation of the monastery of St. Joseph of Avila, as in p. 169. [19]--Fray Do Bañes."
1. Ch. xxxii. § 1.
2. Ch. xxviii. § 14.
3. St. Matt. v. 18: "Iota unum aut unus apex non præteribit a lege."
4. Ch. iv. § 10.
5. "Ecce quantum spatiatus sum in memoria mea quærens Te, Domine; et non Te inveni extra eam. . . . Ex quo didici Te, manes in memoria mea, et illic Te invenio cum reminiscor Tui et delector in Te" (Confess. x. 24). See Inner Fortress, Sixth Mansion, ch. iv.
6. Ch. xx. § 26.
7. Ch. xxv. § 18, ch. xxvi. § 4. See St. John of the Cross, Mount Carmel, bk. ii. ch. xxii.
8. § 8.
9. Yepez says that the Order here spoken of is the Carmelite, and Ribera understands the Saint to refer to that of St. Dominic. The Bollandists, n. 1638-1646, on the whole, prefer the authority of Ribera to that of Yepez and give good reasons for their preference, setting aside as insufficient the testimony of Fray Luis of the Assumption, who says he heard himself from the Venerable Anne of St. Bartholomew that the Order in question is the Order of our Lady of Mount Carmel. Don Vicente, the Spanish editor, rejects the opinion of Ribera, on the ground that it could not have been truly said of the Dominicans in the sixteenth century that the Order was in "some degree fallen," for it was in a most flourishing state. He therefore was inclined to believe that the Saint referred to the Augustinians or to the Franciscans. But, after he had printed this part of his book, he discovered among the MSS. in the public library of Madrid a letter of Anne of St. Bartholomew, addressed to Fray Luis of the Assumption, in which the saintly companion of St. Teresa says that the "Order was ours." Don Vicente has published the letter in the Appendix, p. 566.
10. Job xiv. 2: "Nunquam in eodem statu permanet."
11. See ch. xxxvii. §§ 4, 6.
12. See ch. vii. § 18.
13. Ch. xxx. § 10.
14. Ch. xxxi. §§ 16, 17.
15. Ch. xxviii. § 6.
16. See ch. xiv. § 12.
17. This letter, which seems to have accompanied the "Life," is printed among the other letters of the Saint, and is addressed to her confessor, the Dominican friar, Pedro Ibañez. It is the fifteenth letter in the first volume of the edition of Madrid; but it is not dated there.
18. Juan de Avila, commonly called the Apostle of Andalusia.
19. I.e. of the MS. See p. 337 [Transcriber's note: ch. xxxvi. § 15] of this translation.
The Relations or Manifestations of Her Spiritual State Which St. Teresa Submitted to Her Confessors.
The Relations.
Relation 1.
Sent to St. Peter of Alcantara in 1560 from the Monastery of the Incarnation, Avila. [1]
1. The method of prayer I observe at present is this: when I am in prayer, it is very rarely that I can use the understanding, because the soul becomes at once recollected, remains in repose, or falls into a trance, so that I cannot in any way have the use of the faculties and the senses,--so much so, that the hearing alone is left; but then it does not help me to understand anything.
2. It often happens, when I am not even thinking of the things of God, but engaged in other matters, and when prayer seems to be beyond my power, whatever efforts I might make, because of the great aridity I am in, bodily pains contributing thereto, that this recollection or elevation of spirit comes upon me so suddenly that I cannot withstand it, and the fruits and blessings it brings with it are in a moment mine: and this, without my having had a vision, or heard anything, or knowing where I am, except that when the soul seems to be lost I see it make great progress, which I could not have made if I had laboured for a whole year, so great is my gain.
3. At other times certain excessive impetuosities occur, accompanied with a certain fainting away of the soul for God, so that I have no control over myself; [2] my life seems to have come to an end, and so it makes me cry out and call upon God; and this comes upon me with great vehemence. Sometimes I cannot remain sitting, so great is the oppression of the heart; and this pain comes on without my doing anything to cause it, and the nature of it is such that my soul would be glad never to be without it while I live. And the longings I have are longings not to live; and they come on because it seems as if I must live on without being able to find any relief, for relief comes from the vision of God, which comes by death, and death is what I cannot take; and with all this my soul thinks that all except itself are filled with consolations, and that all find help in their troubles, but not itself. The distress thus occasioned is so intense that, if our Lord did not relieve it by throwing it into a trance, whereby all is made calm, and the soul rests in great quiet and is satisfied, now by seeing something of that which it desires, now by hearing other things, it would seem to be impossible for it to be delivered from this pain.
4. At other times there come upon me certain desires to serve God, with a vehemence so great that I cannot describe it, and accompanied with a certain pain at seeing how unprofitable I am. It seems to me then that there is nothing in the world, neither death, nor martyrdom, that I could not easily endure. This conviction, too, is not the result of any reflection, but comes in a moment. I am wholly changed, and I know not whence cometh such great courage. I think I should live to raise my voice, and publish to all the world how important it is for men not to be satisfied with the common way, and how great the good is that God will give us if we prepare ourselves to receive it. I say it again, these desires are such that I am melted away in myself, for I seem to desire what I cannot have. The body seems to me to hold me in prison, through its inability to serve God and my state [3] in anything; for if it were not for the body, I might do very great things, so far as my strength would allow; and thus, because I see myself without any power whatever to serve God, I feel this pain in a way wholly indescribable; the issue is delight, recollection, and the consolation of God.
5. Again, it has happened, when these longings to serve Him come upon me, that I wish to do penance, but I am not able. It would be a great relief to me, and it does relieve and cheer me, though what I do is almost nothing, because of my bodily weakness; and yet, if I were to give way to these my longings, I believe I should observe no moderation.
6. Sometimes, if I have to speak to any one, I am greatly distressed, and I suffer so much that it makes me weep abundantly; for my whole desire is to be alone, and solitude comforts me, though at times I neither pray nor read, and conversation--particularly of kindred and connections--seems oppressive, and myself to be as a slave, except when I speak to those whose conversation is of prayer and matters of the soul,--in these I find comfort and joy; [4] yet these occasionally are too much for me, and I would rather not see them, but go where I might be alone: though this is not often the case, for those especially who direct my conscience always console me.
7. At other times it gives me much pain that I must eat and sleep, and that I see I cannot forego these things, being less able to do so than any one. I submit that I may serve God, and thus I offer up those actions to him. Time seems to me too short, and that I have not enough for my prayer, for I should never be tired of being alone. I am always wishing I had time for reading, for I have been always fond of reading. I read very little, for when I take up a book I become recollected through the pleasure it gives me, and thus my reading is turned into prayer: and it is but rarely, for I have many occupations; and though they are good, they do not give me the pleasure which reading would give. And thus I am always wishing for more time, and everything becomes disagreeable, so I believe, because I see I cannot do what I wish and desire.
8. All these desires, with an increase in virtue, have been given me by our Lord since He raised me to this prayer of quiet, and sent these raptures. I find myself so improved that I look on myself as being a mass of perdition before this. These raptures and visions leave me in possession of the blessings I shall now speak of; and I maintain that, if there be any good in me, they are the occasions of it.
9. I have made a very strong resolution never to offend God, not even venially. I would rather die a thousand deaths than do anything of the kind knowingly. I am resolved never to leave undone anything I may consider to be the more perfect, or more for the honour of our Lord, if he who has the care of my soul and directs me tells me I may do it. Cost me what pain it might, I would not leave such an act undone for all the treasure of the world. If I were to do so, I do not think I could have the face to ask anything of God our Lord, or to make my prayer; and yet, for all this, I have many faults and imperfections. I am obedient to my confessor, [5] though imperfectly; but if I know that he wishes or commands anything, I would not leave that undone, so far as I understand it; if I did so, I should think myself under a grievous delusion.
10. I have a longing for poverty, though not free from imperfection; however, I believe, if I had wealth, I would not reserve any revenue, nor hoard money for myself, nor do I care for it; I wish to have only what is necessary. Nevertheless, I feel that I am very defective in this virtue; for, though I desire nothing for myself, I should like to have something to give away: still, I desire no revenue, nor anything for myself. [6]
11. In almost all the visions I have had, I have found good, if it be not a delusion of Satan; herein I submit myself to the judgment of my confessors.
12. As to fine and beautiful things, such as water, fields, perfume, music, etc., I think I would rather not have them, so great is the difference between them and what I am in the habit of seeing, and so all pleasure in them is gone from me. [7] Hence it is that I care not for them, unless it be at the first sight: they never make any further impression; to me they seem but dirt.
13. If I speak or converse with people in the world--for I cannot help it--even about prayer, and if the conversation be long, though to pass away the time, I am under great constraint if it be not necessary, for it gives me much pain.
14. Amusements, of which I used to be fond, and worldly things, are all disagreeable to me now, and I cannot look at them.
15. The longings, which I said I have, [8] of loving and serving and seeing God, are not helped by any reflections, as formerly, when I thought I was very devout, and shed many tears; but they flow out of a certain fire and heat so excessive that, I repeat it, if God did not relieve them by throwing me into a trance, wherein the soul seems to find itself satisfied, I believe my life would come to an end at once.
16. When I see persons making great progress, and thus resolved, detached, and courageous, I love them much; and I should like to have my conversation with such persons, and I think they help me on. People who are afraid, and seemingly cautious in those things, the doing of which is perfectly reasonable here, seem to vex me, and drive me to pray to God and the saints to make them undertake such things as these which now frighten us. Not that I am good for anything myself, but because I believe that God helps those who, for His sake, apply themselves to great things, and that He never abandons any one who puts his trust in Him only. And I should like to find any one who would help me to believe so, and to be without thought about food and raiment, but leave it all in the hands of God. [9]
17. This leaving in the hands of God the supply of all I need is not to be understood as excluding all labour on my part, but merely solicitude--I mean, the solicitude of care. And since I have attained to this liberty, it goes well with me, and I labour to forget myself as much as I can. I do not think it is a year ago since our Lord gave me this liberty.
18. Vainglory [10]--glory, be to God!--so far as I know, there is no reason why I should have any; for I see plainly that in these things which God sends me I have no part myself; on the contrary, God makes me conscious of my own wretchedness; for whatever reflections I might be able to make, I could never come to the knowledge of such deep truths as I attain to in a single rapture.
19. When I speak of these things a few days after, they seem to me as if they had happened to another person. Previously, I thought it a wrong to me that they should be known to others; but I see now that I am not therefore any the better, but rather worse, seeing that I make so little progress after receiving mercies so great. And certainly, in every way, it seems to me that there was not in the world anybody worse than myself; and so the virtues of others seem to me much more meritorious than mine, and that I do nothing myself but receive graces, and that God must give to others at once all that He is now giving unto me; and I pray Him not to reward me in this life; and so I believe that God has led me along this way because I am weak and wicked.
20. When I am in prayer, and even almost always when I am able to reflect at all, I cannot, even if I tried, pray to God for rest, or desire it; for I see that His life was one of suffering, and that I ask Him to send me, giving me first the grace to bear it.
21. Everything of this kind, and of the highest perfection, seems to make so deep an impression on me in prayer, that I am amazed at the sight of truths so great and so clear that the things of the world seem to be folly; and so it is necessary for me to take pains to reflect on the way I demeaned myself formerly in the things of the world, for it seems to me folly to feel for deaths and the troubles of the world,--at least, that sorrow for, or love of, kindred and friends should last long. I say I have to take pains when I am considering what I was, and what I used to feel.
22. If I see people do anything which clearly seems to be sin, I cannot make up my mind that they have offended God; and if I dwell upon this at all,--which happens rarely or never,--I never can make up my mind, though I see it plainly enough. It seems to me that everybody is as anxious to serve God as I am. And herein God has been very gracious unto me, for I never dwell on an evil deed, to remember it afterwards and if I do remember it, I see some virtue or other in that person. In this way these things never weary me, except generally: but heresies do; they distress me very often, and almost always when I think of them they seem to me to be the only trouble which should be felt. And also I feel, when I see people who used to give themselves to prayer fall away; this gives me pain, but not much, because I strive not to dwell upon it.
23. I find, also, that I am improved in the matter of that excessive neatness which I was wont to observe, [11] though not wholly delivered from it. I do not discern that I am always mortified in this; sometimes, however, I do.
24. All this I have described, together with a very constant dwelling in thought on God, is the ordinary state of my soul, so far as I can understand it. And if I must be busy about something else, without my seeking it, as I said before, [12] I know not who makes me awake,--and this not always, only when I am busy with things of importance; and such--glory be to God!--only at intervals demand my attention, and do not occupy me at all times.
25. For some days--they are not many, however--for three, or four, or five, all my good and fervent thoughts, and my visions, seem to be withdrawn, yea, even forgotten, so that, if I were to seek for it, I know of no good that can ever have been in me. It seems to have been all a dream, or, at least, I can call nothing to mind. Bodily pains at the same time distress me. My understanding is troubled, so that I cannot think at all about God, neither do I know under what law I live. If I read anything, I do not understand it; I seem to be full of faults, and without any resolution whatever to practise virtue; and the great resolution I used to have is come to this, that I seem to be unable to resist the least temptation or slander of the world. It suggests itself to me then that I am good for nothing, if any one would have me undertake more than the common duties. I give way to sadness, thinking I have deceived all those who trusted me at all. I should like to hide myself where nobody could see me; but my desire for solitude arises from want of courage, not from love of virtue. It seems to me that I should like to dispute with all who contradict me; I am under the influence of these impressions, only God has been so gracious unto me, that I do not offend more frequently than I was wont to do, nor do I ask Him to deliver me from them, but only, if it be His will I should always suffer thus, to keep me from offending Him; and I submit myself to His will with my whole heart, and I see that it is a very great grace bestowed upon me that He does not keep me constantly in this state.
26. One thing astonishes me; it is that, while I am in this state, through a single word of those I am in the habit of hearing, or a single vision, or a little self-recollection, lasting but an Ave Maria, or through my drawing near to communicate, I find my soul and body so calm, so sound, the understanding so clear, and myself possessing all the strength and all the good desires I usually have. And this I have had experience of very often--at least when I go to Communion; it is more than six months ago that I felt a clear improvement in my bodily health, [13] and that occasionally brought about through raptures, and I find it last sometimes more than three hours, at other times I am much stronger for a whole day; and I do not think it is fancy, for I have considered the matter, and reflected on it. Accordingly, when I am thus recollected, I fear no illness. The truth is, that when I pray, as I was accustomed to do before, I feel no improvement.
27. All these things of which I am speaking make me believe that it comes from God; for when I see what I once was, that I was in the way of being lost, and that soon, my soul certainly is astonished at these things, without knowing whence these virtues came to me; I did not know myself, and saw that all was a gift, and not the fruit of my labours. I understand in all truthfulness and sincerity, and see that I am not deluded, that it has been not only the means of drawing me to God in His service, but of saving me also from hell. This my confessors know, who have heard my general confession.
28. Also, when I see any one who knows anything about me, I wish to let him know my whole life, [14] because my honour seems to me to consist in the honour of our Lord, and I care for nothing else. This He knows well, or I am very blind; for neither honour, nor life, nor praise, nor good either of body or of soul, can interest me, nor do I seek or desire any advantage, only His glory. I cannot believe that Satan has sought so many means of making my soul advance, in order to lose it after all. I do not hold him to be so foolish. Nor can I believe it of God, though I have deserved to fall into delusions because of my sins, that He has left unheeded so many prayers of so many good people for two years, and I do nothing else but ask everybody to pray to our Lord that He would show me if this be for His glory, or lead me by another way. [15] I do not believe that these things would have been permitted by His Majesty to be always going on if they were not His work. These considerations, and the reasons of so many saintly men, give me courage when I am under the pressure of fear that they are not from God, I being so wicked myself. But when I am in prayer, and during those days when I am in repose, and my thoughts fixed on God, if all the learned and holy men in the world came together and put me to, all conceivable tortures, and I, too, desirous of agreeing with them, they could not make me believe that this is the work of Satan, for I cannot. And when they would have had me believe it, I was afraid, seeing who it was that said so; and I thought that they must be saying what was true, and that I, being what I was, must have been deluded. But all they had said to me was destroyed by the first word, or recollection, or vision that came, and I was able to resist no longer, and believed it was from God. [16]
29. However, I can think that Satan now and then may intermeddle here, and so it is, as I have seen and said; but he produces different results, nor can he, as it seems to me, deceive any one possessed of any experience. Nevertheless, I say that, though I do certainly believe this to be from God, I would never do anything, for any consideration whatever, that is not judged by him who has the charge of my soul to be for the better service of our Lord, and I never had any intention but to obey without concealing anything, for that is my duty. I am very often rebuked for my faults, and that in such a way as to pierce me to the very quick; and I am warned when there is, or when there may be, any danger in what I am doing. These rebukes and warnings have done me much good, in often reminding me of my former sins, which make me exceedingly sorry.
30. I have been very long, but this is the truth,--that, when I rise from my prayer, I see that I have received blessings which seem too briefly described. Afterwards I fall into many imperfections, and am unprofitable and very wicked. And perhaps I have no perception of what is good, but am deluded; still, the difference in my life is notorious, and compels me to think over all I have said--I mean, that which I verily believe I have felt. These are the perfections which I feel our Lord has wrought in me, who am so wicked and so imperfect. I refer it all to your judgment, my father, for you know the whole state of my soul.
1. Fra Anton. a Sancto Joseph, in his notes on this Relation, usually published among the letters of the Saint, ed. Doblado, vol. ii. letter 11, says it was written for St. Peter of Alcantara when he came to Avila in 1560, at the time when the Saint was so severely tried by her confessors and the others who examined her spirit, and were convinced that her prayer was a delusion of Satan: see the Life, ch. xxv. § 18. The following notes were discovered among the papers of the Saint in the monastery of the Incarnation, and are supposed to refer to this Relation. The Chronicler of the Order, Fra Francis a Sancta Maria, is inclined to the belief that they were written by St. Peter of Alcantara, to whom the Relation is addressed, and the more so because Ribera does not claim them for any member of the Society, notwithstanding the reference to them in §§ 22, 28.
"1. The end God has in view is the drawing a soul to himself; that of the devil is the withdrawing it from God. Our Lord never does anything whereby anyone may be separated from Him, and the devil does nothing whereby any one may be made to draw near unto God. All the visions and the other operations in the soul of this person draw her nearer unto God, and make her more humble and obedient.
"2. It is the teaching of St. Thomas that an angel of light may be recognised by the peace and quietness he leaves in the soul. She is never visited in this way, but she afterwards abides in peace and joy; so much so, that all the pleasures of earth together are not comparable to one of these visitations.
"3. She never commits a fault, nor falls into an imperfection, without being instantly rebuked by Him who speaks interiorly to her.
"4. She has never prayed for nor wished for them: all she wishes for is to do the will of God our Lord in all things.
"5. Everything herein is consistent with the Scriptures and the teaching of the Church, and most true, according to the most rigorous principles of scholastic theology.
"6. This soul is most pure and sincere, with the most fervent desires of being pleasing unto God, and of trampling on every earthly thing.
"7. She has been told that whatever she shall ask of God, being good, she shall have. She has asked much, and things not convenient to put on paper lest it should be wearisome; all of which our Lord has granted.
"8. When these operations are from God, they are always directed to the good of the recipient, to that of the community, or of some other. That she has profited by them she knows by experience, and she knows it, too, of other persons also.
"9. No one converses with her, if he be not in evil dispositions, who is not moved thereby to devotion, even though she says nothing about it.
"10. She is growing daily in the perfection of virtues, and learns by these things the way of a higher perfection. And thus, during the whole time in which she had visions, she was making progress, according to the doctrine of St. Thomas.
"11. The spirit that speaks to her soul never tells her anything in the way of news, or what is unbecoming, but only that which tends to edification.
"12. She has been told of some persons that they were full of devils: but this was for the purpose of enabling her to understand the state of a soul which has sinned mortally against our Lord.
"13. The devil's method is, when he attempts to deceive a soul, to advise that soul never to speak of what he says to it; but the spirit that speaks to this soul warns her to be open with learned men, servants of our Lord, and that the devil may deceive her if she should conceal anything through shame.
"14. So great is the progress of her soul in this way, and the edification she ministers in the good example given, that more than forty nuns in her monastery practise great recollection.
"15. These supernatural things occur after long praying, when she is absorbed in God, on fire with His love, or at Communion.
"16. They kindle in her a most earnest desire to be on the right road, and to escape the delusions of Satan.
"17. They are in her the cause of the deepest humility; she understands that what she receives comes to her from the hand of our Lord, and how little worth she is herself.
"18. When they are withheld, anything that occurs is wont to pain and distress her; but when she is in this state, she remembers nothing; all she is conscious of is a great longing for suffering, and so great is it that she is amazed at it.
"19. They are to her sources of joy and consolation in her troubles, when people speak ill of her, and in her infirmities--and she has fearful pains about the heart, sicknesses, and many other afflictions, all of which leave her when she has these visions.
"20. With all this, she undergoes great penances, fasting, the discipline, and mortifications.
"21. All that on earth may give her any pleasure, and her trials, which are many, she bears with equal tranquillity of mind, without losing the peace and quiet of her soul.
"22. Her resolution never to offend our Lord is so earnest that she has made a vow never to leave undone what she knows herself, or is told by those who understand the matter better, to be the more perfect. And though she holds the members of the Society to be saints, and believes that our Lord made use of them to bestow on her graces so great, she told me that, if she knew it would be more perfect to have nothing more to do with them, she would never speak to them again, nor see them, notwithstanding the fact that it was through them that her mind had been quieted and directed in these things.
"23. The sweetnesses she commonly receives, her sense of God, her languishing with love, are certainly marvellous, and through these she is wont to be enraptured the whole day long.
"24. She frequently falls into a trance when she hears God spoken of with devotion and earnestness, and cannot resist the rapture, do what she can; and in that state her appearance is such that she excites very great devotion.
"25. She cannot bear to be directed by any one who will not tell her of her faults, and rebuke her; all that she accepts with great humility.
"26. Moreover, she cannot endure people who are in a state of perfection, if they do not labour to become perfect, according to the spirit of their rule.
"27. She is most detached from her kindred, has no desire to converse with people, and loves solitude. She has a great devotion to the saints, and on their feasts, and on the days on which the Church celebrates the mysteries of the faith, is filled with most fervent affections for our Lord.
"28. If all the members of the Society, and all the servants of God upon earth, tell her that her state is an effect of the operations of Satan, or were to say so, she is in fear and trembling before the visions occur; but as soon as she is in prayer, and recollected, she cannot be persuaded, were they to tear her into a thousand pieces, that it is any other than God who is working in her and speaking to her.
"29. God has given her a most wonderfully strong and valiant spirit: she was once timid; now she tramples on all the evil spirits. She has put far away from herself all the littleness and silliness of women; she is singularly free from scruples, and most sincere.
"30. Besides, our Lord has given her the gift of most sweet tears, great compassion for her neighbours, the knowledge of her own faults, a great reverence for good people, and self-abasement; and I am certain that she has done good to many, of whom I am one.
"31. She is continually reminding herself of God, and has a sense of His presence. All the locutions have been verified, and every one of them accomplished; and this is a very great test.
"32. Her visions are a source of great clearness in her understanding, and an admirable illumination in the things of God.
"33. It was said to her that she should lead those who were trying her spirit to look into the Scriptures, and that they would not find that any soul desirous of pleasing God had been so long deceived."
2. See Life, ch. xxix. §§ 9-13.
3. De la Fuente thinks she means the religious state.
4. See Life, ch. xxiv. § 8, and ch. xxxi. § 22.
5. See Life, ch. xxiii. § 19.
6. See Life, ch. xxxv. § 2.
7. See Life, ch. ix. § 6, and ch. xiv. § 7.
8. See § 3, above.
9. St. Matt. vi. 31: "Nolite ergo solliciti esse, dicentes: Quid manducabimus. . . . aut quo operiemur?"
10. See Life, ch. vii. § 2.
11. See Life, ch. ii. § 2.
12. § 2, above.
13. See Life, ch. xx. § 29.
14. See Life, ch. xxxi. § 17.
15. See Life, ch. xxv. § 20.
16. See Life, ch. xxv. §§ 18, 22.
Relation II.
To One of Her Confessors, from the House of Doña Luisa de la Cerda, in 1562. [1]
Jesus.
I think it is more than a year since this was written; God has all this time protected me with His hand, so that I have not become worse; on the contrary, I see a great change for the better in all I have to say: may He be praised for it all!
1. The visions and revelations have not ceased, but they are of a much higher kind. Our Lord has taught me a way of prayer, wherein I find myself far more advanced, more detached from the things of this life, more courageous, and more free. [2] I fall into a trance more frequently, for these ecstasies at times come upon me with great violence, and in such a way as to be outwardly visible, I having no power to resist them; and even when I am with others--for they come in such a way as admits of no disguising them, unless it be by letting people suppose that, as I am subject to disease of the heart, they are fainting-fits; I take great pains, however, to resist them when they are coming on--sometimes I cannot do it.
2. As to poverty, God seems to have wrought great things in me; for I would willingly be without even what is necessary, unless given me as an alms; and therefore my longing is extreme that I may be in such a state as to depend on alms alone for my food. It seems to me that to live, when I am certain of food and raiment without fail, is not so complete an observance of my vow or of the counsel of Christ as it would be to live where no revenue is possessed, and I should be in want at times; and as to the blessings that come with true poverty, they seem to me to be great, and I would not miss them. Many times do I find myself with such great faith, that I do not think God will ever fail those who serve Him, and without any doubt whatever that there is, or can be, any time in which His words are not fulfilled: I cannot persuade myself to the contrary, nor can I have any fear; and so, when they advise me to accept an endowment, I feel it keenly, and betake myself unto God.
3. I think I am much more compassionate towards the poor than I used to be, having a great pity for them and a desire to help them; for if I regarded only my good will, I should give them even the habit I wear. I am not fastidious with respect to them, even if I had to do with them or touched them with my hands,--and this I now see is a gift of God; for though I used to give alms for His love, I had no natural compassion. I am conscious of a distinct improvement herein.
4. As to the evil speaking directed against me,--which is considerable, and highly injurious to me, and done by many,--I find myself herein also very much the better. I think that what they say makes scarcely any more impression upon me than it would upon an idiot. I think at times, and nearly always, that it is just. I feel it so little that I see nothing in it that I might offer to God, as I learn by experience that my soul gains greatly thereby; on the contrary, the evil speaking seems to be a favour. And thus, the first time I go to prayer, I have no ill-feeling against them; the first time I hear it, it creates in me a little resistance, but it neither disturbs nor moves me; on the contrary, when I see others occasionally disturbed, I am sorry for them. So it is, I put myself out of the question; for all the wrongs of this life seem to me so light, that it is not possible to feel them, because I imagine myself to be dreaming, and see that all this will be nothing when I awake.
5. God is giving me more earnest desires, a greater love of solitude, a much greater detachment, as I said, with the visions; by these He has made me know what all that is, even if I gave up all the friends I have, both men and women and kindred. This is the least part of it: my kindred are rather a very great weariness to me; I leave them in all freedom and joy, provided it be to render the least service unto God; and thus on every side I find peace.
6. Certain things, about which I have been warned in prayer, have been perfectly verified. Thus, considering the graces received from God, I find myself very much better; but, considering my service to Him in return, I am exceedingly worthless, for I have received greater consolation than I have given, though sometimes that gives me grievous pain. My penance is very scanty, the respect shown me great, much against my own will very often. [3] However in a word, I see that I live an easy, not a penitential, life; God help me, as He can!
7. It is now nine months, more or less, since I wrote this with mine own hand; since then I have not turned my back on the graces which God has given me; I think I have received, so far as I can see, a much greater liberty of late. Hitherto I thought I had need of others, and I had more reliance on worldly helps. Now I clearly understand that all men are bunches of dried rosemary, and that there is no safety in leaning on them, for if they are pressed by contradictions or evil speaking they break down. And so I know by experience that the only way not to fall is to cling to the cross, and put our trust in Him who was nailed thereto. I find Him a real Friend, and with Him I find myself endowed with such might that, God never failing me, I think I should be able to withstand the whole world if it were against me.
8. Having a clear knowledge of this truth, I used to be very fond of being loved by others; now I do not care for that, yea, rather, their love seems to weary me in some measure, excepting theirs who take care of my soul, or theirs to whom I think I do good. Of the former I wish to be loved, in order that they may bear with me; and of the latter, that they may be more inclined to believe me when I tell them that all is vanity.
9. In the very grievous trials, persecutions, and contradictions of these months, [4] God gave me great courage; and the more grievous they were, the greater the courage, without weariness in suffering. Not only had I no ill-feeling against those who spoke evil of me, but I had, I believe, conceived a deeper affection for them. I know not how it was; certainly it was a gift from the hand of our Lord.
10. When I desire anything, I am accustomed naturally to desire it with some vehemence; now my desires are so calm, that I do not even feel that I am pleased when I see them fulfilled. Sorrow and joy, excepting in that which relates to prayer, are so moderated, that I seem to be without sense, and in that state I remain for some days.
11. The vehement longings to do penance which come, and have come, upon me are great; and if I do any penance, I feel it to be so slight in comparison with that longing, that I regard it sometimes, and almost always, as a special consolation; however, I do but little, because of my great weakness.
12. It is a very great pain to me very often, and at this moment most grievous, that I must take food, particularly if I am in prayer. It must be very great, for it makes me weep much, and speak the language of affliction, almost without being aware of it, and that is what I am not in the habit of doing, for I do not remember that I ever did so in the very heaviest trials of my life: I am not a woman in these things, for I have a hard heart.
13. I feel in myself a very earnest desire, more so than usual, that God may find those who will serve Him, particularly learned men, in all detachment, and who will not cleave to anything of this world, for I see it is all a mockery; for when I see the great needs of the Church, I look upon it as a mockery to be distressed about aught else. I do nothing but pray to God for such men, because I see that one person, who is wholly perfect in the true fervour of the love of God, will do more good than many who are lukewarm.
14. In matters concerning the faith, my courage seems to me much greater. I think I could go forth alone by myself against the Lutherans, and convince them of their errors. I feel very keenly the loss of so many souls. I see many persons making great progress; I see clearly it was the pleasure of God that such progress should have been helped by me; and I perceive that my soul, of His goodness, grows daily more and more in His love.
15. I think I could not be led away by vainglory, even if I seriously tried, and I do not see how I could imagine any one of my virtues to be mine, for it is not long since I was for many years without any at all; and now so far as I am concerned, I do nothing but receive graces, without rendering any service in return, being the most worthless creature in the world. And so it is that I consider at times how all, except myself, make progress; I am good for nothing in myself. This is not humility only, but the simple truth; and the knowledge of my being so worthless makes me sometimes think with fear that I must be under some delusion. Thus I see clearly that all my gain has come through the revelations and the raptures, in which I am nothing myself, and do no more to effect them than the canvas does for the picture painted on it. This makes me feel secure and be at rest; and I place myself in the hands of God, and trust my desires; for I know for certain that my desires are to die for Him, and to lose all ease, and that whatever may happen.
16. There are days wherein I remember times without number the words of St. Paul, [5]--though certainly they are not true of me,--that I have neither life, nor speech, nor will of my own, but that there is One in me by whom I am directed and made strong; and I am, as it were, beside myself, and thus life is a very grievous burden to me. And the greatest oblation I make to God, as the highest service on my part, is that I, when I feel it so painfully to be absent from Him, am willing to live on for the love of Him. I would have my life also full of great tribulations and persecutions; now that I am unprofitable, I should like to suffer; and I would endure all the tribulations in the world to gain ever so little more merit--I mean, by a more perfect doing of His will.
17. Everything that I have learnt in prayer, though it may be two years previously, I have seen fulfilled. What I see and understand of the grandeurs of God, and of the way He has shown them, is so high, that I scarcely ever begin to think of them but my understanding fails me,--for I am as one that sees things far higher than I can understand,--and I become recollected.
18. God so keeps me from offending Him, that I am verily amazed at times. I think I discern the great care He takes of me, without my taking scarcely any care at all, being as I was, before these things happened to me, a sea of wickedness and sins, and without a thought that I was mistress enough of myself to leave them undone. And the reason why I would have this known is that the great power of God might be made manifest. Unto Him be praise for ever and ever! Amen.
Jesus.
This Relation here set forth, not in my handwriting, is one that I gave to my confessor, and which he with his own hand copied, without adding or diminishing a word. He was a most spiritual man and a theologian: I discussed the state of my soul with him, and he with other learned men, among whom was Father Mancio. [6] They found nothing in it that is not in perfect agreement with the holy writings. This makes me calm now, though, while God is leading me by this way, I feel that it is necessary for me to put no trust whatever in myself. And so I have always done, though it is painful enough. You, my father, will be careful that all this goes under the seal of confession, according to my request.
1. Addressed, it is believed, to her confessor, F. Pedro Ibañez. This Relation corresponds with ch. xxxiv. of the Life (De la Fuente).
2. See Life, ch. xxvii.
3. See Life, ch. xxxi. § 15.
4. The Saint is supposed to refer to the troubles she endured during the foundation of the monastery of St. Joseph.
5. Gal. ii. 20: "Vivo autem, jam non ego; vivit vero in me Christus."
6. A celebrated Dominican, professor of theology in Salamanca (Bouix).
Relation III.
Of Various Graces Granted to the Saint from the Year 1568 to 1571 Inclusive.
1. When I was in the monastery of Toledo, and some people were advising me not to allow any but noble persons to be buried there, [1] our Lord said to me: "Thou wilt be very inconsistent, My daughter, if thou regardest the laws of the world. Look at Me, poor and despised of men: are the great people of the world likely to be great in My eyes? or is it descent or virtue that is to make you esteemed?"
2. After Communion, the second day of Lent, in St. Joseph of Malagon, our Lord Jesus Christ appeared to me in an imaginary vision, as He is I wont to do; and when I was looking upon Him I saw that He had on His head, instead of the crown of thorns, a crown of great splendour, over the part where the wounds of that crown must have been. And as I have a great devotion to the crowning with thorns, I was exceedingly consoled, and began to think how great the pain must have been because of the many wounds, and to be sorrowful. Our Lord told me not to be sad because of those wounds, but for the many wounds which men inflict upon Him now. I asked Him what I could do by way of reparation; for I was resolved to do anything. He replied: "This is not the time for rest;" that I must hasten on the foundations, for He would take His rest with the souls which entered the monasteries; that I must admit all who offered themselves, because there were many souls that did not serve Him because they had no place wherein to do it; that those monasteries which were to be founded in small towns should be like this; that the merit of those in them would be as great, if they only desired to do that which was done in the other houses; that I must contrive to put them all under the jurisdiction of one superior, [2] and take care that anxieties about means of bodily maintenance did not destroy interior peace, for He would help us, so that we should never be in want of food. Especial care was to be had of the sick sisters; the prioress who did not provide for and comfort the sick was like the friends of Job: He sent them sickness for the good of their souls, and careless superiors risked the patience of their nuns. I was to write the history of the foundation of the monasteries. I was thinking how there was nothing to write about in reference to the foundation of Medina, when He asked me, what more did I want to see than that the foundation there was miraculous? By this He meant to say that He alone had done it, when it seemed impossible. [3] I resolved to execute His commands.
3. Our Lord told me something I was to tell another, and as I was considering how I did not understand it at all,--though I prayed to Him, and was thinking it might be from Satan,--He said to me that it was not, and that He Himself would warn me when the time came.
4. Once, when I was thinking how much more purely they live who withdraw themselves from all business, and how ill it goes with me, and how many faults I must be guilty of, when I have business to transact, I heard this: "It cannot be otherwise, My daughter; but strive thou always after a good intention in all things, and detachment; lift up thine eyes to Me, and see that all thine actions may resemble Mine."
5. Thinking how it was that I scarcely ever fell into a trance of late in public, I heard this: "It is not necessary now; thou art sufficiently esteemed for My purpose; we are considering the weakness of the wicked."
6. One Tuesday after the Ascension, [4] having prayed for awhile after Communion in great distress, because I was so distracted that I could fix my mind on nothing, I complained of our poor nature to our Lord. The fire began to kindle in my soul, and I saw, as it seemed to me, the most Holy Trinity [5] distinctly present in an intellectual vision, whereby my soul understood through a certain representation, as a figure of the truth, so far as my dulness could understand, how God is Three and One; and thus it seemed to me that all the Three Persons spoke to me, that They were distinctly present in my soul, saying unto me "that from that day forth I should see that my soul had grown better in three ways, and that each one of the Three Persons had bestowed on me a distinct grace,--in charity, in suffering joyfully, in a sense of that charity in my soul, accompanied with fervour." I learnt the meaning of those words of our Lord, that the Three Divine Persons will dwell in the soul that is in a state of grace. [6] Afterwards giving thanks to our Lord for so great a mercy, and finding myself utterly unworthy of it, I asked His Majesty with great earnestness how it was that He, after showing such mercies to me, let me go out of His hand, and allowed me to become so wicked; for on the previous day I had been in great distress on account of my sins, which I had set before me. I saw clearly then how much our Lord on His part had done, ever since my infancy, to draw me to Himself by means most effectual, and yet, that all had failed. Then I had a clear perception of the surpassing love of God for us, in that He forgives us all this when we turn to Him, and for me more than for any other, for many reasons. The vision of the Three Divine Persons--one God--made so profound an impression on my soul, that if it had continued it would have been impossible for me not to be recollected in so divine a company. What I saw and heard besides is beyond my power to describe.
7. Once, when I was about to communicate,--it was shortly before I had this vision,--the Host being still in the ciborium, for It had not yet been given me, I saw something like a dove, which moved its wings with a sound. It disturbed me so much, and so carried me away out of myself, that it was with the utmost difficulty I received the Host. All this took place in St. Joseph of Avila. It was Father Francis Salcedo who was giving me the most Holy Sacrament. Hearing Mass another day, I saw our Lord glorious in the Host; He said to me that his sacrifice was acceptable unto Him.
8. I heard this once: "The time will come when many miracles will be wrought in this church; it will be called the holy church." It was in St. Joseph of Avila, in the year 1571.
9. I retain to this day, which is the Commemoration of St. Paul, the presence of the Three Persons of which I spoke in the beginning; [7] they are present almost continually in my soul. I, being accustomed to the presence of Jesus Christ only, always thought that the vision of the Three Persons was in some degree a hindrance, though I know the Three Persons are but One God. To-day, while thinking of this, our Lord said to me "that I was wrong in imagining that those things which are peculiar to the soul can be represented by those of the body; I was to understand that they were very different, and that the soul had a capacity for great fruition." It seemed to me as if this were shown to me thus: as water penetrates and is drunk in by the sponge, so, it seemed to me, did the Divinity fill my soul, which in a certain sense had the fruition and possession of the Three Persons. And I heard Him say also: "Labour thou not to hold Me within thyself enclosed, but enclose thou thyself within Me." It seemed to me that I saw the Three Persons within my soul, and communicating Themselves to all creatures abundantly without ceasing to be with me.
10. A few days after this, thinking whether they were right who disapproved of my going out to make new foundations, and whether it would not be better for me if I occupied myself always with prayer, I heard this: "During this life, the true gain consists not in striving after greater joy in Me, but in doing My will." It seemed to me, considering what St. Paul says about women, how they should stay at home, [8]--people reminded me lately of this, and, indeed, I had heard it before,--it might be the will of God I should do so too. He said to me: "Tell them they are not to follow one part of the Scripture by itself, without looking to the other parts also; perhaps, if they could, they would like to tie My hands."
11. One day after the octave of the Visitation, in one of the hermitages of Mount Carmel, praying to God for one of my brothers, I said to our Lord,--I do not know whether it was only in thought or not, for my brother was in a place where his salvation was in peril,--"If I saw one of Thy brethren, O Lord, in this danger, what would I not do to help him!" It seemed to me there was nothing that I could do which I would not have done. Our Lord said to me: "O daughter, daughter! the nuns of the Incarnation are thy sisters, and thou holdest back. Take courage, then. Behold, this is what I would have thee do: it is not so difficult as it seems; and though it seems to thee that by going thither thy foundations will be ruined, yet it is by thy going that both these and the monastery of the Incarnation will gain; resist not, for My power is great." [9]
12. Once, when thinking of the great penance practised by Doña Catalina de Cardona, [10] and how I might have done more, considering the desires which our Lord had given me at times, if it had not been for my obedience to my confessors, I asked myself whether it would not be as well if I disobeyed them for the future in this matter. Our Lord said to me: "No, My daughter; thou art on the sound and safe road. Seest thou all her penance? I think more of thy obedience."
13. Once, when I was in prayer, He showed me by a certain kind of intellectual vision the condition of a soul in a state of grace: in its company I saw by intellectual vision the most Holy Trinity, from whose companionship the soul derived a power which was a dominion over the whole earth. I understood the meaning of those words in the Canticle: "Let my Beloved come into His garden and eat." [11] He showed me also the condition of a soul in sin, utterly powerless, like a person tied and bound and blindfold, who, though anxious to see, yet cannot, being unable to walk or to hear, and in grievous obscurity. I was so exceedingly sorry for such souls, that, to deliver only one, any trouble seemed to me light. I thought it impossible for any one who saw this as I saw it,--and I can hardly explain it,--willingly to forfeit so great a good or continue in so evil a state.
14. One day, in very great distress about the state of the Order, and casting about for means to succour it, our Lord said to me: "Do thou what is in thy power, and leave Me to Myself, and be not disquieted by anything; rejoice in the blessing thou hast received, for it is a very great one. My Father is pleased with thee, and the Holy Ghost loves thee."
15. "Thou art ever desiring trials, and, on the other hand, declining them. I order things according to what I know thy will is, and not according to thy sensuality and weakness. Be strong, for thou seest how I help thee; I have wished thee to gain this crown. Thou shalt see the Order of the Virgin greatly advanced in thy days." I heard this from our Lord about the middle of February, 1571.
16. On the eve of St. Sebastian, the first year of my being in the monastery of the Incarnation [12] as prioress there, at the beginning of the Salve, I saw the Mother of God descend with a multitude of angels to the stall of the prioress, where the image of our Lady is, and sit there herself. I think I did not see the image then, but only our Lady. She seemed to be like that picture of her which the Countess [13] gave me; but I had no time to ascertain this, because I fell at once into a trance. Multitudes of angels seemed to me to be above the canopies of the stalls, and on the desks in front of them; but I saw no bodily forms, for the vision was intellectual. She remained there during the Salve, and said to me: "Thou hast done well to place me here; I will be present when the sisters sing the praises of my Son, and will offer them to Him." After this I remained in that prayer which I still practise, and which is that of keeping my soul in the company of the most Holy Trinity; and it seemed to me that the Person of the Father drew me to Himself, and spoke to me most comfortable words. Among them were these, while showing how He loved me: "I give thee My Son, and the Holy Ghost, and the Virgin: what canst thou give Me?" [14]
17. On the octave of the Holy Ghost, our Lord was gracious unto me, and gave me hopes of this house, [15] that it would go on improving--I mean the souls that are in it.
18. On the feast of the Magdalene, our Lord again confirmed a grace I had received in Toledo, electing me, in the absence of a certain person, in her place.
19. In the monastery of the Incarnation, and in the second year of my being prioress there, on the octave of St. Martin, when I was going to Communion, the Father, Fr. John of the Cross, [16]--divided the Host between me and another sister. I thought it was done, not because there was any want of Hosts, but that he wished to mortify me because I had told him how much I delighted in Hosts of a large size. Yet I was not ignorant that the size of the Host is of no moment; for I knew that our Lord is whole and entire in the smallest particle. His Majesty said to me: "Have no fear, My daughter; for no one will be able to separate thee from Me,"--giving me to understand that the size of the Host mattered not.
20. Then appearing to me, as on other occasions, in an imaginary vision, most interiorly, He held out His right hand and said: "Behold this nail! it is the pledge of thy being My bride from this day forth. Until now thou hadst not merited it; from henceforth thou shalt regard My honour, not only as of one who is Thy Creator, King, and God, but as thine, My veritable bride; My honour is thine, and thine is Mine." This grace had such an effect on me, that I could not contain myself: I became as one that is foolish, and said to our Lord: "Either ennoble my vileness or cease to bestow such mercies on me, for certainly I do not think that nature can bear them." I remained thus the whole day, as one utterly beside herself. Afterwards I became conscious of great progress, and greater shame and distress to see that I did nothing in return for graces so great.
21. Our Lord said this to me one day: "Thinkest thou, My daughter, that meriting lies in fruition? No; merit lies only in doing, in suffering, and in loving. You never heard that St. Paul had the fruition of heavenly joys more than once; while he was often in sufferings. [17] Thou seest how My whole life was full of dolors, and only on Mount Tabor hast thou heard of Me in glory. [18] Do not suppose, when thou seest My Mother hold Me in her arms, that she had that joy unmixed with heavy sorrows. From the time that Simeon spoke to her, My Father made her see in clear light all I had to suffer. The grand Saints of the desert, as they were led by God, so also did they undergo heavy penances; besides, they waged serious war with the devil and with themselves, and much of their time passed away without any spiritual consolation whatever. Believe Me, My daughter, his trials are the heaviest whom My Father loves most; trials are the measure of His love. How can I show My love for thee better than by desiring for thee what I desired for Myself? Consider My wounds; thy pains will never reach to them. This is the way of truth; thus shalt thou help Me to weep over the ruin of those who are in the world, for thou knowest how all their desires, anxieties, and thoughts tend the other way." When I began my prayer that day, my headache was so violent that I thought I could not possibly go on. Our Lord said to me: "Behold now, the reward of suffering. As thou, on account of thy health, wert unable to speak to Me, I spoke to thee and comforted thee." Certainly, so it was; for the time of my recollection lasted about an hour and a half, more or less. It was then that He spoke to me the words I have just related, together with all the others. I was not able to distract myself, neither knew I where I was; my joy was so great as to be indescribable; my headache was gone, and I was amazed, and I had a longing for suffering. He also told me to keep in mind the words He said to His Apostles: "The servant is not greater than his Lord." [19]
1. Alonzo Ramirez wished to have the right of burial in the new monastery, but the nobles of Toledo looked on his request as unreasonable. See Foundations, chs. xv. and xvi.
2. See Way of Perfection, ch. viii.; but ch. v. of the previous editions.
3. See Book of the Foundations, ch. iii.
4. In the copy kept in Toledo, the day is Tuesday after the Assumption (De la Fuente).
5. Ch. xxvii. § 10.
6. St. John xiv. 23: "Ad eum veniemus, et mansionem apud eum faciemus."
7. See § 6.
8. Titus ii. 5: "Sobrias, domus curam habentes."
9. This took place in 1571, when the Saint had been appointed prioress of the monastery of the Incarnation at Avila; the very house she had left in order to found that of St. Joseph, to keep the rule in its integrity.
10. See Book of the Foundations, ch. xxviii.
11. Cant. v. 1: "Veniat dilectus meus in hortum suum, et comedat."
12. A.D. 1572.
13. Maria de Velasco y Aragon, Countess of Osorno (Ribera, lib. iii. c. 1).
14. See Relation iv. § 2.
15. The monastery of the Incarnation, Avila (De la Fuente).
16. St. John of the Cross, at the instance of the Saint, was sent to Avila, with another father of the reformed Carmelites, to be confessor of the nuns of the Incarnation, who then disliked the observance of the primitive rule.
17. 2 Cor. xi. 27: "In labore et ærumna, in vigiliis multis."
18. St. Matt. xvii. 2: "Et transfiguratus est ante eos."
19. St. John xiii. 16: "Non est servus major domino suo."
Relation IV.
Of the Graces the Saint Received in Salamanca at the End of Lent, 1571.
1. I found myself the whole of yesterday in great desolation, and, except at Communion, did not feel that it was the day of the Resurrection. Last night, being with the community, I heard one [1] of them singing how hard it is to be living away from God. As I was then suffering, the effect of that singing on me was such that a numbness began in my hands, and no efforts of mine could hinder it; but as I go out of myself in raptures of joy, so then my soul was thrown into a trance through the excessive pain, and remained entranced; and until this day I had not felt this. A few days previously I thought that the vehement impulses were not so great as they used to be, and now it seems to be that the reason is what I have described; I know not if it is so. Hitherto the pain had not gone so far as to make me beside myself; and as it is so unendurable, and as I retained the control of my senses, it made me utter loud cries beyond my power to restrain. Now that it has grown, it has reached this point of piercing me; and I understand more of that piercing which our Lady suffered; for until to-day, as I have just said, I never knew what that piercing was. My body was so bruised, that I suffer even now when I am writing this; for my hands are as if the joints were loosed, and in pain. [2] You, my father, will tell me when you see me whether this trance be the effect of suffering, or whether I felt it, or whether I am deceived.
2. I was in this great pain till this morning; and, being in prayer, I fell into a profound trance; and it seemed to me that our Lord had taken me up in spirit to His Father, and said to Him: "Whom Thou hast given to Me, I give to Thee;" [3] and He seemed to draw me near to Himself. This is not an imaginary vision, but one most certain, and so spiritually subtile that it cannot be explained. He spoke certain words to me which I do not remember. Some of them referred to His grace, which He bestows on me. He kept me by Him for some time.
3. As you, my father, went away yesterday so soon, and I consider the many affairs which detain you, so that it is impossible for me to have recourse to you for comfort even when necessary,--for I see that your occupations are most urgent,--I was for some time in pain and sadness. As I was then in desolation,--as I said before,--that helped me; and as nothing on earth, I thought, had any attractions for me, I had a scruple, and feared I was beginning to lose that liberty. This took place last night; and to-day our Lord answered my doubt, and said to me "that I was not to be surprised; for as men seek for companions with whom they may speak of their sensual satisfactions, so the soul--when there is any one who understands it--seeks those to whom it may communicate its pleasures and its pains, and is sad and mourns when it can find none." He said to me: "Thou art prosperous now, and thy works please Me." As He remained with me for some time, I remembered that I had told you, my father, that these visions pass quickly away; He said to me "that there was a difference between these and the imaginary visions, and that there could not be an invariable law concerning the graces He bestowed on us; for it was expedient to give them now in one way, now in another."
4. After Communion, I saw our Lord most distinctly close beside me; and He began to comfort me with great sweetness, and said to me, among other things: "Thou beholdest Me present, My daughter,--it is I. Show me thy hands." And to me He seemed to take them and to put them to His side, and said: "Behold My wounds; thou art not without Me. Finish the short course of thy life." By some things He said to me, I understood that, after His Ascension, He never came down to the earth except in the most Holy Sacrament to communicate Himself to any one. He said to me, that when He rose again He showed Himself to our Lady, because she was in great trouble; for sorrow had so pierced her soul that she did not even recover herself at once in order to have the fruition of that joy. By this I saw how different was my piercing. [4] But what must that of the Virgin have been? He remained long with her then because it was necessary to console her.
5. On Palm Sunday, at Communion, I was in a deep trance,--so much so, that I was not able even to swallow the Host; and, still having It in my mouth, when I had come a little to myself, I verily believed that my mouth was all filled with Blood; and my face and my whole body seemed to be covered with It, as if our Lord had been shedding It at that moment. I thought It was warm, and the sweetness I then felt was exceedingly great; and our Lord said to me: "Daughter, My will is that My Blood should profit thee; and be not thou afraid that My compassion will fail thee. I shed It in much suffering, and, as thou seest, thou hast the fruition of It in great joy. I reward thee well for the pleasure thou gavest me to-day." He said this because I have been in the habit of going to Communion, if possible, on this day for more than thirty years, and of labouring to prepare my soul to be the host of our Lord; for I considered the cruelty of the Jews to be very great, after giving Him so grand a reception, in letting Him go so far for supper; and I used to picture Him as remaining with me, and truly in a poor lodging, as I see now. And thus I used to have such foolish thoughts--they must have been acceptable to our Lord, for this was one of the visions which I regard as most certain; and, accordingly it has been a great blessing to me in the matter of Communion.
6. Previous to this, I had been, I believe, for three days in that great pain, which I feel sometimes more than at others, because I am away from God; and during those days it had been very great, and seemingly more than I could bear. Being thus exceedingly wearied by it, I saw it was late to take my collation, nor could I do so,--for if I do not take it a little earlier, it occasions great weakness because of my sickness; and then, doing violence to myself, I took up some bread to prepare for collation, and on the instant Christ appeared, and seemed to be breaking the bread and putting it into my mouth. He said to me: "Eat, My daughter, and bear it as well as thou canst. I condole with thee in thy suffering; but it is good for thee now." My pain was gone, and I was comforted; for He seemed to be really with me then, and the whole of the next day; and with this my desires were then satisfied. The word "condole" made me strong; for now I do not think I am suffering at all.
1. Isabel of Jesus, born in Segovia, and whose family name was Jimena, told Ribera (vide lib. iv. c. v.) that she was the singer, being then a novice in Salamanca.
2. See Fortress of the Soul, vi. ch. xi.
3. See Relation, iii. § 16.
4. See above, § 1.
Relation V.
Observations on Certain Points of Spirituality.
1. "What is it that distresses thee, little sinner? Am I not thy God? Dost thou not see how ill I am treated here? If thou lovest Me, why art thou not sorry for Me? Daughter, light is very different from darkness. I am faithful; no one will be lost without knowing it. He must be deceiving himself who relies on spiritual sweetnesses; the true safety lies in the witness of a good conscience. [1] But let no one think that of himself he can abide in the light, any more than he can hinder the natural night from coming on; for that depends on My grace. The best means he can have for retaining the light is the conviction in his soul that he can do nothing of himself, and that it comes from Me; for, even if he were in the light, the instant I withdraw, night will come. True humility is this: the soul's knowing what itself can do, and what I can do. Do not neglect to write down the counsels I give thee, that thou mayest not forget them. Thou seekest to have the counsels of men in writing; why, then, thinkest thou that thou art wasting time in writing down those I give thee? The time will come when thou shalt require them all."
On Union.
2. "Do not suppose, My daughter, that to be near to Me is union; for they who sin against Me are near Me, though they do not wish it. Nor is union the joys and comforts of union, [2] though they be of the very highest kind, and though they come from Me. These very often are means of winning souls, even if they are not in a state of grace." When I heard this, I was in a high degree lifted up in spirit. Our Lord showed me what the spirit was, and what the state of the soul was then, and the meaning of those words of the Magnificat, "Exultavit spiritus meus." He showed me that the spirit was the higher part of the will.
3. To return to union; I understood it to be a spirit, pure and raised up above all the things of earth, with nothing remaining in it that would swerve from the will of God, being a spirit and a will resigned to His will, and in detachment from all things, occupied in God in such a way as to leave no trace of any love of self, or of any created thing whatever. [3] Thereupon, I considered that, if this be union, it comes to this, that, as my soul is always abiding in this resolution, we can say of it that it is always in this prayer of union: and yet it is true that the union lasts but a very short time. It was suggested to me that, as to living in justice, meriting and making progress, it will be so; but it cannot be said that the soul is in union as it is when in contemplation; and I thought I understood, yet not by words heard, that the dust of our wretchedness, faults, and imperfections, wherein we bury ourselves, is so great, that it is not possible to live in such pureness as the spirit is in when in union with God, raised up and out of our wretched misery. And I think, if it be union to have our will and spirit in union with the will and Spirit of God, that it is not possible for any one not in a state of grace to attain thereto; and I have been told so. Accordingly, I believe it is very difficult to know when the soul is in union; to have that knowledge is a special grace of God, because nobody can tell whether he is in a state of grace or not. [4]
4. You will show me in writing, my father, what you think of this, and how I am in the wrong, and send me this paper back.
5. I had read in a book that it was an imperfection to possess pictures well painted,--and I would not, therefore, retain in my cell one that I had; and also, before I had read this, I thought that it was poverty to possess none, except those made of paper,--and, as I read this afterwards, I would not have any of any other material. I learnt from our Lord, when I was not thinking at all about this, what I am going to say: "that this mortification was not right. Which is better, poverty or charity? But as love was the better, whatever kindled love in me, that I must not give up, nor take away from my nuns; for the book spoke of much adorning and curious devices--not of pictures. [5] What Satan was doing among the Lutherans was the taking away from them all those means by which their love might be the more quickened; and thus they were going to perdition. Those who are loyal to Me, My daughter, must now, more than ever, do the very reverse of what they do." I understood that I was under great obligations to serve our Lady and St. Joseph, because, when I was utterly lost, God, through their prayers, came and saved me.
6. One day, after the feast of St. Matthew, [6] I was as is usual with me, after seeing in a vision the most Holy Trinity, and how It is present in a soul in a state of grace. [7] I understood the mystery most clearly, in such a way that, after a certain fashion and comparisons, I saw It in an imaginary vision. And though at other times I have seen the most Holy Trinity in an intellectual vision, for some days after the truth of it did not rest with me,--as it does now,--I mean, so that I could dwell upon it. I see now that it is just as learned men told me; and I did not understand it as I do now, though I believed them without the least hesitation; for I never had any temptations against the faith.
7. It seems to us ignorant women that the Persons of the most Holy Trinity are all Three, as we see Them painted, in one Person, after the manner of those pictures, which represent a body with three faces; and thus it causes such astonishment in us that we look on it as impossible, and so there is nobody who dares to think of it; for the understanding is perplexed, is afraid it may come to doubt the truth, and that robs us of a great blessing.
8. What I have seen is this: Three distinct Persons each one by Himself visible, and by Himself speaking. [8] And afterwards I have been thinking that the Son alone took human flesh, whereby this truth is known. The Persons love, communicate, and know Themselves. Then, if each one is by Himself, how can we say that the Three are one Essence, and so believe? That is a most deep truth, and I would die for it a thousand times. In the Three Persons there is but one will and one power and one might; neither can One be without Another: so that of all created things there is but one sole Creator. Could the Son create an ant without the Father? No; because the power is all one. The same is to be said of the Holy Ghost. Thus, there is one God Almighty, and the Three Persons are one Majesty. Is it possible to love the Father without loving the Son and the Holy Ghost? No; for he who shall please One of the Three pleases the Three Persons; and he who shall offend One offends All. Can the Father be without the Son and without the Holy Ghost? No; for They are one substance, and where One is there are the Three; for they cannot be divided. How, then, is it that we see the Three Persons distinct? and how is it that the Son, not the Father, nor the Holy Ghost, took human flesh? This is what I have never understood; theologians know it. I know well that the Three were there when that marvellous work was done, and I do not busy myself with much thinking thereon. All my thinking thereon comes at once to this: that I see God is almighty, that He has done what He would, and so can do what He will. The less I understand it, the more I believe it, and the greater the devotion it excites in me. May He be blessed for ever! Amen.
9. If our Lord had not been so gracious with me as He has been, I do not think I should have had the courage to do what has been done, nor strength to undergo the labours endured, with the contradictions and the opinions of men. And accordingly, since the beginning of the foundations, I have lost the fears I formerly had, thinking that I was under delusions,--and I had a conviction that it was the work of God: having this, I ventured upon difficult things, though always with advice and under obedience. I see in this that when our Lord willed to make a beginning of the Order, and of His mercy made use of me, His Majesty had to supply all that I was deficient in, which was everything, in order that the work might be effected, and that His greatness might be the more clearly revealed in one so wicked.
10. Antiochus was unendurable to himself, and to those who were about him, because of the stench of his many sins. [9]
11. Confession is for faults and sins, and not for virtues, nor for anything of the kind relating to prayer. These things are to be treated of out of confession with one who understands the matter,--and let the prioress see to this; and the nun must explain the straits she is in, in order that the proper helps may be found for her; for Cassian says that he who does not know the fact, as well as he who has never seen or learnt, that men can swim, will think, when he sees people throw themselves into the river, that they will all be drowned. [10]
12. Our Lord would have Joseph tell the vision to his brethren, and have it known, though it was to cost Joseph so much.
13. How the soul has a sense of fear when God is about to bestow any great grace upon it; that sense is the worship of the spirit, as that of the four [11] elders spoken of in Scripture.
14. How, when the faculties are suspended, it is to be understood that certain matters are suggested to the soul, to be by it recommended to God; that an angel suggests them, of whom it is said in the Scriptures that he was burning incense and offering up the prayers of the saints. [12]
15. How there are no sins where there is no knowledge; and thus our Lord did not permit the king to sin with the wife of Abraham, for he thought that she was his sister, not his wife.
1. 2 Cor. i. 12: "Gloria nostra hæc est, testimonium conscientiæ nostræ."
2. See St. John of the Cross, Mount Carmel, bk. ii. ch. v.
3. See Foundations, ch. v. § 10.
4. Eccl. ix. 1: "Nescit homo utrum amore an odio dignus sit."
5. See St. John of the Cross, Mount Carmel, bk. iii. ch. xxxiv.
6. The §§ 6, 7, and 8 are the thirteenth letter of the second volume, ed. Doblado.
7. See Relation iii. § 13.
8. Anton. a Sancto Joseph, in his notes on this passage, is anxious to save the Thomist doctrine that one of the Divine Persons cannot be seen without the other, and so he says that the Saint speaks of the Three Persons as she saw Them--not as They are in Themselves.
9. 2 Maccab. ix. 10, 12: "Eum nemo poterat propter intolerantiam foetoris portare, . . . . nec ipse jam foetorem suum ferre posset."
10. Cassian, Collat. vii. cap. iv. p. 311: "Nec enim si quis ignarus natandi, sciens pondus corporis sui ferre aquarum liquorem non posse, experimento suæ voluerit imperitiæ definire, neminem penitus posse liquidis elementis solida carne circumdatum sustineri."
11. Anton. a Sancto Joseph says that the Saint meant to write four-and-twenty, in allusion to Apoc. iv. 4.
12. Apoc. viii. 4.
Relation VI.
The Vow of Obedience to Father Gratian Which the Saint Made in 1575.
1. In the year 1575, in the month of April, when I was founding the monastery of Veas, Fra Jerome of the Mother of God Gratian happened to come thither. [1] I began to go to confession to him from time to time, though not looking upon him as filling the place of the other confessors I had, so as to be wholly directed by him. One day, when I was taking food, but without any interior recollection whatever, my soul began to be recollected in such a way that I thought I must fall into a trance; and I had a vision, that passed away with the usual swiftness, like a meteor. I seemed to see close beside me Jesus Christ our Lord, in the form wherein His Majesty is wont to reveal Himself, with F. Gratian on His right. Our Lord took his right hand and mine, and, joining them together, said to me that He would have me accept him in His place for my whole life, and that we were both to have one mind in all things, for so it was fitting. I was profoundly convinced that this was the work of God, though I remembered with regret two of my confessors whom I frequented in turn for a long time, and to whom I owed much; that one for whom I have a great affection especially caused a terrible resistance. Nevertheless, not being able to persuade myself that the vision was a delusion, because it had a great power and influence over me, and also because it was said to me on two other occasions that I was not to be afraid, that He wished this,--the words were different,--I made up my mind at last to act upon them, understanding it to be our Lord's will, and to follow that counsel so long as I should live. I had never before so acted with any one, though I had consulted many persons of great learning and holiness, and who watched over my soul with great care,--but neither had I received any such direction as that I should make no change; for as to my confessors, of some I understood that they would be profitable to me, and so also of these.
2. When I had resolved on this, I found myself in peace and comfort so great that I was amazed, and assured of our Lord's will; for I do not think that Satan could fill the soul with peace and comfort such as this: and so, whenever I think of it, I praise our Lord, and remember the words, "posuit fines tuos pacem," [2] and I wish I could wear myself out in the praises of God.
3. It must have been about a month after this my resolve was made, on the second day after Pentecost, when I was going to found the monastery in Seville, that we heard Mass in a hermitage in Ecija, and rested there during the hottest part of the day. Those who were with me remained in the hermitage while I was by myself in the sacristy belonging to it. I began to think of one great grace which I received of the Holy Ghost, on one of the vigils of His feast, [3] and a great desire arose within me of doing Him some most special service, and I found nothing that was not already done,--at least, resolved upon,--for all I do must be faulty; and I remembered that, though I had already made a vow of obedience, it might be made in greater perfection, and I had an impression it would be pleasing unto Him if I promised that which I was already resolved upon, to live under obedience to the Father-Master, Fr. Jerome. On the other hand, I seemed to be doing nothing, because I was already bent on doing it; on the other hand, it would be a very serious thing, considering that our interior state is not made known to the superiors who receive our vows, and that they change, and that, if one is not doing his work well, another comes in his place; and I believed I should have none of my liberty all my life long, either outwardly or inwardly, and this constrained me greatly to abstain from making the vow. This repugnance of the will made me ashamed, and I saw that, now I had something I could do for God, I was not doing it; it was a sad thing for my resolution to serve Him. The fact is, that the objection so pressed me, that I do not think I ever did anything in my life that was so hard--not even my profession--unless it be that of my leaving my father's house to become a nun. [4] The reason of this was that I had forgotten my affection for him, and his gifts for directing me; yea, rather, I was looking on it then as a strange thing, which has surprised me; feeling nothing but a great fear whether the vow would be for the service of God or not: and my natural self--which is fond of liberty--must have been doing its work, though for years now I have no pleasure in it. But it seemed to me a far other matter to give up that liberty by a vow, as in truth it is. After a protracted struggle, our Lord gave me great confidence; and I saw it was the better course, the more I felt about it: if I made this promise in honour of the Holy Ghost, He would be bound to give him light for the direction of my soul; and I remembered at the same time that our Lord had given him to me as my guide. Thereupon I fell upon my knees, and, to render this tribute of service to the Holy Ghost, made a promise to do whatever he should bid me do while I lived, provided nothing were required of me contrary to the law of God and the commands of superiors whom I am more bound to obey. I adverted to this, that the obligation did not extend to things of little importance,--as if I were to be importunate with him about anything, and he bade me cease, and I neglected his advice and repeated my request,--nor to things relating to my convenience. In a word, his commands were not to be about trifles, done without reflection; and I was not knowingly to conceal from him my faults and sins, or my interior state; and this, too, is more than we allow to superiors. In a word, I promised to regard him as in the place of God, outwardly and inwardly. I know not if it be so, but I seemed to have done a great thing in honour of the Holy Ghost--at least, it was all I could do, and very little it was in comparison with what I owe Him.
4. I give God thanks, who has created one capable of this work: I have the greatest confidence that His Majesty will bestow on him great graces; and I myself am so happy and joyous, that I seem to be in every way free from myself; and though I thought that my obedience would be a burden, I have attained to the greatest freedom. May our Lord be praised for ever!
1. See Foundations, ch. xxii.
2. Psalm cxlvii. 14: "He hath made thy borders peace."
3. Perhaps the Saint refers to what she has written in her Life, ch. xxxviii. §§ 11, 12.
4. Life, ch. iv. § 1.
Relation VII.
Made for Rodrigo Alvarez, S.J., in the Year 1575, According to Don Vicente de la Fuente; but in 1576, According to the Bollandists and F. Bouix.
1. This nun took the habit forty years ago, and from the first began to reflect on the mysteries of the Passion of Christ our Lord, and on her own sins, for some time every day, without thinking at all of anything supernatural, but only of created things, or of such subjects as suggested to her how soon the end of all things must come, discerning in creatures the greatness of God and His love for us.
2. This made her much more willing to serve Him: she was never under the influence of fear, and made no account of it, but had always a great desire to see God honoured, and His glory increased. To that end were all her prayers directed, without making any for herself; for she thought that it mattered little if she had to suffer in purgatory in exchange for the increase of His glory even in the slightest degree.
3. In this she spent about two-and-twenty years in great aridities, and never did it enter into her thoughts to desire anything else; for she regarded herself as one who, she thought, did not deserve even to think about God, except that His Majesty was very merciful to her in allowing her to remain in His presence, saying her prayers, reading also in good books.
4. It must be about eighteen years since she began to arrange about the first monastery of Barefooted Carmelites which she founded. It was in Avila, three or two years before,--I believe it is three,--she began to think that she occasionally heard interior locutions, and had visions and revelations interiorly. She saw with the eyes of the soul, for she never saw anything with her bodily eyes, nor heard anything with her bodily ears; twice, she thinks, she heard a voice, but she understood not what was said. It was a sort of making things present when she saw these things interiorly; they passed away like a meteor most frequently. The vision, however, remained so impressed on her mind, and produced such effects, that it was as if she saw those things with her bodily eyes, and more.
5. She was then by nature so very timid, that she would not dare to be alone even by day, at times. And as she could not escape from these visitations, though she tried with all her might, she went about in very great distress, afraid that it was a delusion of Satan, and began to consult spiritual men of the Society of Jesus about it, among whom were Father Araoz, who was Commissary of the Society, and who happened to go to that place, and Father Francis, who was Duke of Gandia,--him she consulted twice; [1] also a Provincial, now in Rome, called Gil Gonzalez, and him also who is now Provincial of Castille,--this latter, however, not so often,--Father Baltasar Alvarez who is now Rector in Salamanca; and he heard her confession for six years at this time; also the present Rector of Cuenca, Salazar by name; the Rector of Segovia, called Santander; the Rector of Burgos, whose name is Ripalda,--and he thought very ill of her when he heard of these things, till after he had conversed with her; the Doctor Paul Hernandez in Toledo, who was a Consultor of the Inquisition, him who was Rector in Salamanca when she talked to him; the Doctor Gutierrez, and other fathers, some of the Society, whom she knew to be spiritual men, these she sought out, if any were in those places where she went to found monasteries.
6. With the Father Fra Peter of Alcantara, who was a holy man of the Barefooted Friars of St. Francis, she had many communications, and he it was who insisted so much upon it that her spirit should be regarded as good. They were more than six years trying her spirit minutely, as it is already described at very great length, [2] as will be shown hereafter: and she herself in tears and deep affliction; for the more they tried her, the more she fell into raptures, and into trances very often,--not, however, deprived of her senses.
7. Many prayers were made, and many Masses were said, that our Lord would lead her by another way, [3] for her fear was very great when she was not in prayer; though in everything relating to the state of her soul she was very much better, and a great difference was visible, there was no vainglory, nor had she any temptation thereto, nor to pride; on the contrary, she was very much ashamed and confounded when she saw that people knew of her state, and except with her confessors or any one who would give her light, she never spoke of these things, and it was more painful to speak of them than if they had been grave sins; for it seemed to her that people must laugh at her, [4] and that these things were womanish imaginations, which she had always heard of with disgust.
8. About thirteen years ago, more or less, after the house of St. Joseph was founded, into which she had gone from the other monastery, came the present Bishop of Salamanca, Inquisitor, I think, of Toledo, previously of Seville, Soto by name. [5] She contrived to have a conference with him for her greater security, and told him everything. He replied, that there was nothing in all this that concerned his office, because everything that she saw and heard confirmed her the more in the Catholic faith, in which she always was, and is, firm, with most earnest desires for the honour of God and the good of souls, willing to suffer death many times for one of them.
9. He told her, when he saw how distressed she was, to give an account of it all, and of her whole life, without omitting anything, to the Master Avila, who was a man of great learning in the way of prayer, and to rest content with the answer he should give. She did so, and described her sins and her life. He wrote to her and comforted her, giving her great security. The account I gave was such that all those learned men who saw it--they were my confessors--said that it was very profitable for instruction in spiritual things; and they commanded her to make copies of it, and write another little book [6] for her daughters,--she was prioress,--wherein she might give them some instructions.
10. Notwithstanding all this, she was not without fears at times, for she thought that spiritual men also might be deceived like herself. She told her confessor that he might discuss these things with certain learned men, though they were not much given to prayer, for she had no other desire but that of knowing whether what she experienced was in conformity with the sacred writings or not. Now and then she took comfort in thinking that--though she herself, because of her sins, deserved to fall into delusions--our Lord would not suffer so many good men, anxious to give her light, to be led into error.
11. Having this in view, she began to communicate with fathers of the Order of the glorious St. Dominic, to which, before these things took place, she had been to confession--she does not say to them, but to the Order. [7] These are they with whom she afterwards had relations. The Father Fra Vicente Barron, at that time Consultor of the Holy Office, heard her confessions for eighteen months in Toledo, and he had done so very many years before these things began. He was a very learned man. He reassured her greatly, as did also the fathers of the Society spoken of before. All used to say, If she does not sin against God, and acknowledges her own misery, what has she to be afraid of? She confessed to the Father Fra Pedro Ibañez, who was reader in Avila; to the Father-Master Fra Dominic Bañes, who is now in Valladolid as rector of the college of St. Gregory, I confessed for six years, and whenever I had occasion to do so communicated with him by letter; also to the Master Chaves; to the Father-Master Fra Bartholomew of Medina, professor in Salamanca, of whom she knew that he thought ill of her; for she, having heard this, thought that he, better than any other, could tell her if she was deceived, because he had so little confidence in her. This was more than two years ago. She contrived to go to confession to him, and gave him a full account of everything while she remained there; and he saw what she had written, [8] for the purpose of attaining to a better understanding of the matter. He reassured her so much, and more than all the rest, and remained her very good friend.
12. She went to confession also to Fra Philip de Meneses, when she founded the monastery of Valladolid, for he was rector of the college of St. Gregory. He, having before that heard of her state, had gone to Avila, that he might speak to her,--it was an act of great charity,--being desirous of ascertaining whether she was deluded, so that he might enlighten her, and, if she was not, defend her when he heard her spoken against; and he was much satisfied.
13. She also conferred particularly with Salinas, Dominican Provincial, a man of great spirituality; with another licentiate named Lunar, who was prior of St. Thomas of Avila; and, in Segovia, with a reader, Fra Diego de Yangües.
14. Of these Dominicans some never failed to give themselves greatly to prayer, and perhaps all did. Some others also she consulted; for in so many years, and because of the fear she was in, she had opportunities of doing so, especially as she went about founding monasteries in so many places. Her spirit was tried enough, for everybody wished to be able to enlighten her, and thereby reassured her and themselves. She always, at all times, wished to submit herself to whatever they enjoined her, and she was therefore distressed when, as to these spiritual things, she could not obey them. Both her own prayer, and that of the nuns she has established, are always carefully directed towards the propagation of the faith; and it was for that purpose, and for the good of her Order, that she began her first monastery.
15. She used to say that, if any of these things tended to lead her against the Catholic faith and the law of God, she would not need to seek for learned men nor tests, because she would see at once that they came from Satan. She never undertook anything merely because it came to her in prayer; on the contrary, when her confessors bade her do the reverse, she did so without being in the least troubled thereat, and she always told them everything. For all that they told her that these things came from God, she never so thoroughly believed them that she could swear to it herself, though it did seem to her that they were spiritually safe, because of the effects thereof, and of the great graces which she at times received; but she always desired virtues more than anything else; and this it is that she has charged her nuns to desire, saying to them that the most humble and mortified will be the most spiritual.
16. All that is told and written she communicated to the Father-Master Fra Dominic Bañes, who is now in Valladolid, and who is the person with whom she has had, and has still, the most frequent communications. He sent her writings to the Holy Office in Madrid, so it is said. In all this she submits herself to the Catholic faith and the Roman Church. Nobody has found fault with them, because these things are not in the power of any man, and our Lord does not require what is impossible.
17. The reason why so much is known about her is that, as she was in fear about herself, and described her state to so many, these talked to one another on the subject and also the accident that happened to what she had written. [9] This has been to her a very grievous torment and cross, and has cost her many tears. She says that this distress is not the effect of humility, but of the causes already mentioned. Our Lord seems to have given permission [10] for this torture for if one spoke more harshly of her than others, by little and little he spoke more kindly of her.
18. She took the greatest pains not to submit the state of her soul to any one who she thought would believe that these things came from God, for she was instantly afraid that the devil would deceive them both. If she saw any one timid about these things, to him she laid bare her secrets with the greater joy; though also it gave her pain when, for the purpose of trying her, these things were treated with contempt, for she thought some were really from God, and she would not have people, even if they had good cause, condemn them so absolutely; neither would she have them believe that all were from God; and because she knew perfectly well that delusion was possible, therefore it was that she never thought herself altogether safe in a matter wherein there might be danger.
19. She used to strive with all her might never in any way to offend God, and was always obedient; and by these means she thought she might obtain her deliverance, by the help of God, even if Satan were the cause.
20. Ever since she became subject to these supernatural visitations, her spirit is always inclined to seek after that which is most perfect, and she had almost always a great desire to suffer; and in the persecutions she underwent, and they were many, she was comforted, and had a particular affection for her persecutors. She had a great desire to be poor and lonely, and to depart out of this land of exile in order to see God. Through these effects, and others like them, she began to find peace, thinking that a spirit which could leave her with these virtues could not be an evil one, and they who had the charge of her soul said so; but it was a peace that came from diminished weariness, not from the cessation of fear.
21. The spirit she is of never urged her to make any of these things known, but to be always obedient. [11] As it has been said already, [12] she never saw anything with her bodily eyes, but in a way so subtile and so intellectual that at first she sometimes thought that all was the effect of imagination; at other times she could not think so. These things were not continual, but occurred for the most part when she was in some trouble: as on one occasion, when for some days she had to bear unendurable interior pains, and a restlessness of soul arising out of the fear that she was deluded by Satan, as it is described at length in the account she has given of it, [13] and where her sins, for they have been so public, are mentioned with the rest: for the fear she was in made her forget her own good name.
22. Being thus in distress such as cannot be described, at the mere hearing interiorly these words, [14] "It is I, be not afraid," her soul became so calm, courageous, and confident, that she could not understand whence so great a blessing had come; for her confessor had not been able--and many learned men, with many words, had not been able--to give her that peace and rest which this one word had given her. And thus, at other times, some vision gave her strength, for without that she could not have borne such great trials and contradictions, together with infirmities without number, and which she still has to bear, though they are not so many,--for she is never free from some suffering or other, more or less intense. Her ordinary state is constant pain, with many other infirmities, though since she became a nun they are more troublesome, if she is doing anything in the service of our Lord. And the mercies He shows her pass quickly out of memory, though she often dwells on those mercies,--but she is not able to dwell so long upon these as upon her sins; these are always a torment to her, most commonly as filth smelling foully.
23. That her sins are so many, and her service of God so scanty, must be the reason why she is not tempted to vainglory. There never was anything in any of these spiritual visitations that was not wholly pure and clean, nor does she think it can be otherwise if the spirit be good and the visitations supernatural, for she utterly neglects the body and never thinks of it, being wholly intent upon God.
24. She is also living in great fear about sinning against God, and doing His will in all things; this is her continual prayer. And she is, she thinks, so determined never to swerve from this, that there is nothing her confessors might enjoin her, which she considers to be for the greater honour of our Lord, that she would not undertake and perform, by the help of our Lord. And confident that His Majesty helps those who have resolved to advance His service and glory, she thinks no more of herself and of her own progress, in comparison with that, than if she did not exist, so far as she knows herself, and her confessors think so too.
25. All that is written in this paper is the simple truth, and they, and all others who have had anything to do with her for these twenty years, can justify it. Most frequently her spirit urged her to praise God, and she wished that all the world gave itself up to that, even though it should cost her exceedingly. Hence the desire she has for the good of souls; and from considering how vile are the things of this world, and how precious are interior things, with which nothing can be compared, she has attained to a contempt of the world.
26. As for the vision about which you, my father, wish to know something, it is of this kind: she sees nothing either outwardly or inwardly, for the vision is not imaginary: but, without seeing anything, she understands what it is, and where it is, more clearly than if she saw it, only nothing in particular presents itself to her. She is like a person who feels that another is close beside her; but because she is in the dark she sees him not, yet is certain that he is there present. Still, this comparison is not exact; for he who is in the dark, in some way or other, through hearing a noise or having seen that person before, knows he is there, or knew it before; but here there is nothing of the kind, for without a word, inward or outward, the soul clearly perceives who it is, where he is, and occasionally what he means. [15] Why, or how, she perceives it, she knoweth not; but so it is; and while it lasts, she cannot help being aware of it. And when it is over,--though she may wish ever so much to retain the image thereof,--she cannot do it, for it is then clear to her that it would be, in that case, an act of the imagination, not the vision itself,--that is not in her power; and so it is with the supernatural things. And it is from this it comes to pass that he in whom God works these graces despises himself, and becomes more humble than he was ever before, for he sees that this is a gift of God, and that he can neither add to it nor take from it. The love and the desire become greater of serving our Lord, who is so mighty that He can do that which is more than our imagination can conceive here, as there are things which men, however learned they may be, can never know. Blessed for ever and ever be He who bestows this! Amen.
1. See Life, ch. xxiv. § 4.
2. See Life, ch. xxv. § 18.
3. See Life, ch. xxv. § 20, and ch. xxvii. § 1.
4. See Life, ch. xxvi. § 5.
5. Don Francisco de Soto y Salazar was a native of Bonilli de la Sierra, and Vicar-General of the Bishops of Astorga and Avila, and Canon of Avila; Inquisitor of Cordova, Seville, and Toledo; Bishop, successively, of Albarracin, Segorve, and Salamanca. He died at Merida, in 1576, poisoned, it was suspected, by the sect of the Illuminati, who were alarmed at his faithful zeal and holy life (Palafox, note to letter 19, vol. i. ed. Doblado). "She went to the Inquisitor, Don Francisco Soto de Salazar--he was afterwards Bishop of Salamanca--and said to him: 'My lord, I am subject to certain extraordinary processes in prayer, such as ecstasies, raptures, and revelations, and do not wish to be deluded or deceived by Satan, or to do anything that is not absolutely safe. I give myself up to the Inquisition to try me, and examine my ways of going on, submitting myself to its orders.' The Inquisitor replied: 'Señora, the business of the Inquisition is not to try the spirit, nor to examine ways of prayer, but to correct heretics. Do you, then, commit your experience to writing, in all simplicity and truth, and send it to the Father-Master Avila, who is a man of great spirituality and learning, and extremely conversant with matters of prayer; and when you shall have his answer, you may be sure there is nothing to be afraid of'" (Jerome Gratian, Lucidario, cap. iii.).
6. This book is the Way of Perfection, written by direction of F. Bañes.
7. The Saint had such great affection for the Order of St. Dominic, that she used to say of herself, "Yo soy la Dominica in passione," meaning thereby that she was in her heart a Dominicaness, and a child of the Order (Palafox, note to letter 16, vol. i. ed. Doblado).
8. When this father had read the Life, he had it copied, with the assent of F. Gratian, and gave the copy thus made to the Duchess of Alba (De la Fuente).
9. See Foundations, ch. xvii. § 12, note.
10. Life, ch. xxiii. § 15.
11. Life, ch. xxvi. § 5.
12. § 4.
13. Life, ch. xxv. § 19.
14. Life, ch. xxv. § 22.
15. See Life, ch. xxvii. § 5.
Relation VIII.
Addressed to F. Rodrigo Alvarez.
1. These interior things of the spirit are so difficult to describe, and, still more, in such a way as to be understood,--the more so as they pass quickly away,--that, if obedience did not help me, it would be a chance if I succeeded, especially in such difficult things. I implore you, my father, to take for granted that it is not in my mind to think this to be correct, for it may well be that I do not understand the matter; but what I can assure you of is this, that I will speak of nothing I have not had experience of at times, and, indeed, often.
2. I think it will please you, my father, if I begin by discussing that which is at the root of supernatural things; for that which relates to devotion, tenderness, tears, and meditations, which is in our power here to acquire by the help of our Lord, is understood.
3. The first prayer of which I was conscious,--in my opinion, supernatural,--so I call that which no skill or effort of ours, however much we labour, can attain to, though we should prepare ourselves for it, and that preparation must be of great service,--is a certain interior recollection [1] of which the soul is sensible; the soul seems to have other senses within itself then, which bear some likeness to the exterior senses it possesses; and thus the soul, withdrawing into itself, seeks to go away from the tumult of its outward senses, and accordingly it drags them away with itself; for it closes the eyes on purpose that it may neither see, nor hear, nor understand anything but that whereon the soul is then intent, which is to be able to converse with God alone. In this prayer there is no suspension of the faculties and powers of the soul; it retains the full use of them; but the use of them is retained that they may be occupied with God. This will be easily understood by him whom our Lord shall have raised to this state; but by him whom He has not, not; at least, such a one will have need of many words and illustrations.
4. Out of this recollection grow a certain quietude and inward peace most full of comfort; for the soul is in such a state that it does not seem to it that it wants anything; for even speaking wearies it,--I mean by this, vocal prayer and meditation; it would do nothing but love. This lasts some time, and even a long time.
5. Out of this prayer comes usually what is called a sleep of the faculties; but they are not so absorbed nor so suspended as that it can be called a trance; nor is it altogether union.
6. Sometimes, and even often, the soul is aware that the will alone is in union; and this it sees very clearly,--that is, it seems so to it. The will is wholly intent upon God, and the soul sees that it has no power to rest on, or do, anything else; and at the same time the two other faculties are at liberty to attend to other matters of the service of God,--in a word, Martha and Mary are together. [2] I asked Father Francis [3] if this was a delusion, for it made me stupid; and his reply was, that it often happened.
7. When all the faculties of the soul are in union, it is a very different state of things; for they can then do nothing whatever, because the understanding is as it were surprised. The will loves more than the understanding knows; but the understanding does not know that the will loves, nor what it is doing, so as to be able in any way to speak of it. As to the memory, the soul, I think, has none then, nor any power of thinking, nor are the senses awake, but rather as lost, so that the soul may be the more occupied with the object of its fruition: so it seems to me. They are lost but for a brief interval; it passes quickly away. By the wealth of humility, and other virtues and desires, left in the soul after this may be learnt how great the blessing is that flows from this grace, but it cannot be told what it is; for, though the soul applies itself to the understanding of it, it can neither understand nor explain it. This, if it be real, is, in my opinion, the greatest grace wrought by our Lord on this spiritual road,--at least, it is one of the greatest.
8. Raptures and trance, in my opinion, are all one, only I am in the habit of using the word trance instead of rapture, because the latter word frightens people; and, indeed, the union of which I am speaking may also be called a trance. The difference between union and trance is this, that the latter lasts longer and is more visible outwardly, because the breathing gradually diminishes, so that it becomes impossible to speak or to open the eyes; and though this very thing occurs when the soul is in union, there is more violence in a trance for the natural warmth vanishes, I know not how, when the rapture is deep; and in all these kinds of prayer there is more or less of this. When it is deep, as I was saying, the hands become cold, and sometimes stiff and straight as pieces of wood; as to the body, if the rapture comes on when it is standing or kneeling, it remains so; [4] and the soul is so full of the joy of that which our Lord is setting before it, that it seems to forget to animate the body, and abandons it. If the rapture lasts, the nerves are made to feel it.
9. It seems to me that our Lord will have the soul know more of that, the fruition of which it has, in a trance than in union, and accordingly in a rapture the soul receives most commonly certain revelations of His Majesty, and the effects thereof on the soul are great,--a forgetfulness of self, through the longing it has that God our Lord, who is so high, may be known and praised. In my opinion, if the rapture be from God, the soul cannot fail to obtain a deep conviction of its own helplessness, and of its wretchedness and ingratitude, in that it has not served Him who, of His own goodness only, bestows upon it graces so great; for the feeling and the sweetness are so high above all things that may be compared therewith that, if the recollection of them did not pass away, all the satisfactions of earth would be always loathsome to it; and hence comes the contempt for all the things of the world.
10. The difference between trance and transport [5] is this,--in a trance the soul gradually dies to outward things, losing the senses and living unto God. A transport comes on by one sole act of His Majesty, wrought in the innermost part of the soul with such swiftness that it is as if the higher part thereof were carried away, and the soul leaving the body. Accordingly it requires courage at first to throw itself into the arms of our Lord, that He may take it whithersoever He will; for, until His Majesty establishes it in peace there whither He is pleased to take it--by take it I mean the admitting of it to the knowledge of deep things--it certainly requires in the beginning to be firmly resolved to die for Him, because the poor soul does not know what this means--that is, at first. The virtues, as it seems to me, remain stronger after this, for there is a growth in detachment, and the power of God, who is so mighty, is the more known, so that the soul loves and fears Him. For so it is, He carries away the soul, no longer in our power, as the true Lord thereof, which is filled with a deep sorrow for having offended Him, and astonishment that it ever dared to offend a Majesty so great, with an exceedingly earnest desire that none may henceforth offend Him, and that all may praise Him. This, I think, must be the source of those very fervent desires for the salvation of souls, and for some share therein, and for the due praising of God.
11. The flight of the spirit--I know not how to call it--is a rising upwards from the very depths of the soul. I remember only this comparison, and I made use of it before, as you know, my father, in that writing where these and other ways of prayer are explained at length, [6] and such is my memory that I forget things at once. It seems to me that soul and spirit are one and the same thing; but only as a fire, if it is great and ready for burning; so, like fire burning rapidly, the soul, in that preparation of itself which is the work of God, sends up a flame,--the flame ascends on high, but the fire thereof is the same as that below, nor does the flame cease to be fire because it ascends: so here, in the soul, something so subtile and so swift, seems to issue from it, that ascends to the higher part, and goes thither whither our Lord wills. I cannot go further with the explanation; it seems a flight, and I know of nothing else wherewith to compare it: I know that it cannot be mistaken, for it is most evident when it occurs, and that it cannot be hindered.
12. This little bird of the spirit seems to have escaped out of this wretchedness of the flesh, out of the prison of this body, and now, disentangled therefrom, is able to be the more intent on that which our Lord is giving it. The flight of the spirit is something so fine, of such inestimable worth, as the soul perceives it, that all delusion therein seems impossible, or anything of the kind, when it occurs. It was afterwards that fear arose, because she who received this grace was so wicked; for she saw what good reasons she had to be afraid of everything, though in her innermost soul there remained an assurance and a confidence wherein she was able to live, but not enough to make her cease from the anxiety she was in not to be deceived.
13. By impetus I mean that desire which at times rushes into the soul, without being preceded by prayer, and this is most frequently the case; it is a sudden remembering that the soul is away from God, or of a word it has heard to that effect. This remembering is occasionally so strong and vehement that the soul in a moment becomes as if the reason were gone, just like a person who suddenly hears most painful tidings of which he knew not before, or is surprised; such a one seems deprived of the power of collecting his thoughts for his own comfort, and is as one lost. So is it in this state, except that the suffering arises from this, that there abides in the soul a conviction that it would be well worth dying in it. It seems that whatever the soul then perceives does but increase its suffering, and that our Lord will have its whole being find no comfort in anything, nor remember that it is His will that it should live: the soul seems to itself to be in great and indescribable loneliness, and abandoned of all, because the world, and all that is in it, gives it pain; and because it finds no companionship in any created thing, the soul seeks its Creator alone, and this it sees to be impossible unless it dies; and as it must not kill itself, it is dying to die, and there is really a risk of death, and it sees itself hanging between heaven and earth, not knowing what to do with itself. And from time to time God gives it a certain knowledge of Himself, that it may see what it loses, in a way so strange that no explanation of it is possible; and there is no pain in the world--at least I have felt none--that is equal or like unto this, for if it lasts but half an hour the whole body is out of joint, and the bones so racked, that I am not able to write with my hands: the pains I endure are most grievous. [7]
14. But nothing of all this is felt till the impetus shall have passed away. He to whom it comes has enough to do in enduring that which is going on within him, nor do I believe that he would feel if he were grievously tortured: he is in possession of all his senses, can speak, and even observe; walk about he cannot,--the great blow of that love throws him down to the ground. If we were to die to have this, it would be of no use, for it cannot be except when God sends it. It leaves great effects and blessings in the soul. Some learned men say that it is this, others that it is that, but no one condemns it. The Father-Master d'Avila wrote to me and said it was good, and so say all. The soul clearly understands that it is a great grace from our Lord; were it to occur more frequently, life would not last long.
15. The ordinary impetus is, that this desire of serving God comes on with a certain tenderness, accompanied with tears, out of a longing to depart from this land of exile; but as the soul retains its freedom, wherein it reflects that its living on is according to our Lord's will, it takes comfort in that thought, and offers its life to Him, beseeching Him that it may last only for His glory. This done, it bears all.
16. Another prayer very common is a certain kind of wounding; [8] for it really seems to the soul as if an arrow were thrust through the heart, or through itself. Thus it causes great suffering, which makes the soul complain; but the suffering is so sweet, that it wishes it never would end. The suffering is not one of sense, neither is the wound physical; it is in the interior of the soul, without any appearance of bodily pain; but as I cannot explain it except by comparing it with other pains, I make use of these clumsy expressions,--for such they are when applied to this suffering. I cannot, however, explain it in any other way. It is, therefore, neither to be written of nor spoken of, because it is impossible for any one to understand it who has not had experience of it,--I mean, how far the pain can go; for the pains of the spirit are very different from those of earth. I gather, therefore, from this, that the souls in hell and purgatory suffer more than we can imagine, by considering these pains of the body.
17. At other times, this wound of love seems to issue from the inmost depth of the soul; great are the effects of it; and when our Lord does not inflict it, there is no help for it, whatever we may do to obtain it; nor can it be avoided when it is His pleasure to inflict it. The effects of it are those longings after God, so quick and so fine that they cannot be described and when the soul sees itself hindered and kept back from entering, as it desires, on the fruition of God, it conceives a great loathing for the body, on which it looks as a thick wall which hinders it from that fruition which it then seems to have entered upon within itself, and unhindered by the body. It then comprehends the great evil that has befallen us through the sin of Adam in robbing us of this liberty. [9]
18. This prayer I had before the raptures and the great impetuosities I have been speaking of. I forgot to say that these great impetuosities scarcely ever leave me, except through a trance or great sweetness in our Lord, whereby He comforts the soul, and gives it courage to live on for His sake.
19. All this that I speak of cannot be the effect of the imagination; and I have some reasons for saying this, but it would be wearisome to enter on them: whether it be good or not is known to our Lord. The effects thereof, and how it profits the soul, pass all comprehension, as it seems to me.
20. I see clearly that the Persons are distinct, as I saw it yesterday when you, my father, were talking to the Father Provincial; only I saw nothing, and heard nothing, as, my father, I have already told you. But there is a strange certainty about it, though the eyes of the soul see nothing; and when the presence is withdrawn, that withdrawal is felt. How it is, I know not; but I do know very well that it is not an imagination, because I cannot reproduce the vision when it is over, even if I were to perish in the effort; but I have tried to do so. So is it with all that I have spoken of here, so far as I can see; for, as I have been in this state for so many years, I have been able to observe, so that I can say so with this confidence. The truth is,--and you, my father, should attend to this,--that, as to the Person who always speaks, I can certainly say which of Them He seems to me to be; of the others I cannot say so much. One of Them I know well has never spoken. I never knew why, nor do I busy myself in asking more of God than He is pleased to give, because in that case, I believe, I should be deluded by Satan, at once; nor will I ask now, because of the fear I am in.
21. I think the First spoke to me at times; but as I do not remember that very well now, nor what it was that He spoke, I will not venture to say so. It is all written,--you, my father, know where,--and more at large than it is here; I know not whether in the same words or not. [10] Though the Persons are distinct in a strange way, the soul knows One only God. I do not remember that our Lord ever seemed to speak to me but in His Human Nature; and--I say it again--I can assure you that this is no imagination.
22. What, my father, you say about the water, I know not; nor have I heard where the earthly paradise is. I have already said that I cannot but listen to what our Lord tells me; I hear it because I cannot help myself; but, as for asking His Majesty to reveal anything to me, that is what I have never done. In that case, I should immediately think I was imagining things, and that I must be in a delusion of Satan. God be praised, I have never been curious about things, and I do not care to know more than I do. [11] What I have learnt, without seeking to learn, as I have just said, has been a great trouble to me, though it has been the means, I believe, which our Lord made use of to save me, seeing that I was so wicked; good people do not need so much to make them serve His Majesty.
23. I remember another way of prayer which I had before the one I mentioned first,--namely, a presence of God, which is not a vision at all. It seems that any one, if he recommends himself to His Majesty, even if he only prays vocally, finds Him; every one, at all times, can do this, if we except seasons of aridity. May He grant I may not by my own fault lose mercies so great, and may He have compassion on me!
1. Inner Fortress, iv. ch. iii.
2. See Life, ch. xvii. § 5.
3. Compare Life, ch. xxiv. § 4.
4. See Life, ch. xx. § 23.
5. "Arrobamiento y arrebatamiento."
6. See Life, chs. xx. and xxi.
7. Life, ch. xx. § 16; Inner Fortress, vi. c. xi.
8. See Life, ch. xxix. § 17.
9. See Life, ch. xvii. § 9.
10. See Relation, iii. § 6.
11. See St. John of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel, bk. ii. ch. xxii.
Relation IX.
Of Certain Spiritual Graces She Received in Toledo and Avila in the Years 1576 and 1577.
1. I had begun to go to confession to a certain person [1] in the city wherein I am at present staying, when he, though he had much good will towards me, and always has had since he took upon himself the charge of my soul, ceased to come here; and one night, when I was in prayer, and thinking how he failed me, I understood that God kept him from coming because it was expedient for me to treat of the affairs of my soul with a certain person on the spot. [2] I was distressed because I had to form new relations--it might be he would not understand me, and would disturb me--and because I had a great affection for him who did me this charity, though I was always spiritually content when I saw or heard the latter preach; also, I thought it would not do because of his many occupations. Our Lord said to me: "I will cause him to hear and understand thee. Make thyself known unto him; it will be some relief to thee in thy troubles." The latter part was addressed to me, I think, because I was then so worn out by the absence of God. His Majesty also said that He saw very well the trouble I was in; but it could not be otherwise while I lived in this land of exile: all was for my good; and he comforted me greatly. So it has been: he comforts me, and seeks opportunities to do so; he has understood me, and given me great relief; he is a most learned and holy man.
2. One day,--it was the Feast of the Presentation,--I was praying earnestly to God for a certain person, and thinking that after all the possession of property and of freedom was unfitting for that high sanctity which I wished him to attain to; I reflected on his weak health, and on the spiritual health which he communicated to souls; and I heard these words: "He serves Me greatly; but the great thing is to follow Me stripped of everything, as I was on the cross. Tell him to trust in Me." These last words were said because I thought he could not, with his weak health, attain to such perfection.
3. Once, when I was thinking of the pain it was to me to eat meat and do no penance, I understood that there was at times more of self-love in that feeling than of a desire for penance.
4. Once, when I was in great distress because of my offences against God, He said to me: "All thy sins in My sight are as if they were not. For the future, be strong; for thy troubles are not over."
5. One day, in prayer, I felt my soul in God in such a way that it seemed to me as if the world did not exist, I was so absorbed in Him. He made me then understand that verse of the Magnificat, "Et exultavit spiritus meus," so that I can never forget it.
6. Once, when I was thinking how people sought to destroy this monastery of the Barefooted Carmelites, and that they purposed, perhaps, to bring about the destruction of them all by degrees, I heard: "They do purpose it; nevertheless, they will never see it done, but very much the reverse."
7. Once, in deep recollection, I was praying to God for Eliseus; [3] I heard this: "He is My true son; I will never fail him," or to that effect; but I am not sure of the latter words.
8. Having one day conversed with a person who had given up much for God, and calling to mind that I had given up nothing for Him, and had never served Him in anything, as I was bound to do, and then considering the many graces He had wrought in my soul, I began to be exceedingly weary; and our Lord said to me: "Thou knowest of the betrothal between thee and Myself, and therefore all I have is thine; and so I give thee all the labours and sorrows I endured, and thou canst therefore ask of My Father as if they were thine." Though I have heard that we are partakers therein, [4] now it was in a way so different that it seemed as if I had become possessed of a great principality; for the affection with which He wrought this grace cannot be described. The Father seemed to ratify the gift; and from that time forth I look at our Lord's Passion in a very different light, as on something that belongs to me; and that gives me great comfort. [5]
9. On the Feast of the Magdalene, when thinking of the great love I am bound to have for our Lord, according to the words He spoke to, me in reference to this Saint, and having great desires to imitate her, our Lord was very gracious unto me, and said, I was to be henceforward strong; for I had to serve Him more than I had hitherto done. [6] He filled me with a desire not to die so soon, that I might have the time to occupy myself therein; and I remained with a great resolution to suffer.
10. On one occasion, I understood how our Lord was in all things, and how He was in the soul; and the illustration of a sponge filled with water was suggested to me.
11. When my brothers came,--and I owe so much to one of them, [7]--I remained in conversation with him concerning his soul and his affairs, which wearied and distressed me; and as I was offering this up to our Lord, and thinking that I did it all because I was under obligations to him, I remembered that by our Constitutions [8] we are commanded to separate ourselves from our kindred, and I was set thinking whether I was under any obligation, our Lord said to me: "No, My daughter; the regulations of the Order must be only in conformity with My law." The truth is, that the end of the Constitutions is, that we are not to be attached to our kindred; and to converse with them, as it seems to me, is rather wearisome, and it is painful to have anything to do with them.
12. After Communion, on St. Augustine's Day, I understood, and, as it were, saw,--I cannot tell how, unless it was by an intellectual vision which passed rapidly away,--how the Three Persons of the most Holy Trinity, whom I have always imprinted in my soul, are One. This was revealed in a representation so strange, and in a light so clear, that the impression made upon me was very different from that which I have by faith. From that time forth I have never been able to think of One of the Three Divine Persons without thinking of the Three; so that to-day, when I was considering how, the Three being One, the Son alone took our flesh upon Him, our Lord showed me how, though They are One, They are also distinct. These are marvels which make the soul desire anew to be rid of the hindrances which the body interposes between it and the fruition of them. Though this passes away in a moment, there remains a gain to the soul incomparably greater than any it might have made by meditation during many years; and all without knowing how it happens.
13. I have a special joy on the Feast of our Lady's Nativity. When this day was come, I thought it would be well to renew our vows; and thereupon I saw our Lady, by an illuminative vision; and it seemed as if we made them before her and that they were pleasing unto her. I had this vision constantly for some days, and our Lady was by me on my left hand. One day, after Communion, it seemed to me that my soul was really one with the most Holy Body of our Lord, then present before me; and that wrought a great work and blessing in me.
14. I was once thinking whether I was to be sent to reform a certain monastery; [9] and, distressed at it, I heard: "What art thou afraid of? What canst thou lose?--only thy life, which thou hast so often offered to Me. I will help thee." This was in prayer, which was of such a nature as to ease my soul exceedingly.
15. Once, having a desire to render some service to our Lord, I considered that I could serve Him but poorly, and said to myself: "Why, O Lord, dost Thou desire my works?" And He answered: "To see thy good will, My child."
16. Once our Lord gave me light in a matter that I was very glad to understand, and I immediately forgot it, so that I was never able to call it again to mind; and so, when I was trying to remember it, I heard: "Thou knowest now that I speak to thee from time to time. Do not omit to write down what I say; for, though it may not profit thee, it may be that it will profit others." As I was thinking whether I, for my sins, had to be of use to others, and be lost myself, He said to me: "Have no fear."
17. I was once recollected in that companionship which I ever have in my soul, and it seemed to me that God was present therein in such a way that I remembered how St. Peter said: "Thou art Christ, the Son of the living God;" [10] for the living God was in my soul. This is not like other visions, for it overpowers faith; so that it is impossible to doubt of the indwelling of the Trinity in our souls, by presence, power, and essence. To know this truth is of the very highest gain; and as I stood amazed to see His Majesty in a thing so vile as my soul, I heard: "It is not vile, My child, for it is made in My image." [11] I also learnt something of the reason why God delights in souls more than in any other creatures: it is so subtile that, though the understanding quickly comprehended it, I cannot tell it.
18. When I was in such distress, because of the troubles of our father, [12] that I had no rest, and after Communion one day was making most earnestly my petition to our Lord that, as He had given him to me, I might not lose him, He said to me: "Have no fear."
19. Once, with that presence of the Three Persons which I have in my soul, I was in light so clear that no doubt of the presence of the true and living God was possible; and I then came to the knowledge of things which afterwards I could not speak of. One of these things was, how the person of the Son only took human flesh. I cannot, as I have just said, explain it at all; for some of these things were wrought in the secret recesses of the soul, and the understanding seems to grasp them only as one who is in his sleep, or half awake, thinks he comprehends what is told him. I was thinking how hard it was to remain alive, seeing that it was living on that robbed us of that marvellous companionship; and so I said to myself: "O Lord, show me some way whereby I may bear this life!" He said unto me: "Think, my child, when life is over, thou canst not serve Me as thou art serving Me now, and eat for Me, and sleep for Me. Whatsoever thou doest, let it be done for Me as if thou wert no longer living, but I; for that is what St. Paul said." [13]
20. Once, after Communion, I saw how His Father within our soul accepts the most Holy Body of Christ. I have understood and seen how the Divine Persons are there, and how pleasing is this offering of His Son, because He has His joy and delight in Him, so to speak, here on earth; for it is not the Humanity only that is with us in our, souls, but the Divinity as well, and thus is it so pleasing and acceptable unto Him, and gives us graces so great. I understood also that He accepts the sacrifice, though the priest be in sin; but then the grace of it is not communicated to his soul as it is to their souls who are in a state of grace: not that the inflowings of grace, which proceed from this Communion wherein the Father accepts the sacrifice, cease to flow in their strength, but because of his fault who has to receive them; as it is not the fault of the sun that it does not illumine a lump of pitch, when its rays strike it as it illumines a globe of crystal. If I could now describe it, I should be better understood; it is a great matter to know this, because there are grand secrets within us when we are at Communion. It is sad that these bodies of ours do not allow us to have the fruition thereof.
21. During the Octave of All Saints, [14] I had two or three days of exceeding anguish, the result of my remembrance of my great sins, and I was also in great dread of persecutions, which had no foundation except that great accusations were brought against me, and all my resolutions to suffer anything for God failed me: though I sought to encourage myself, and made corresponding acts, and saw that all would be a great pain for me, it was to little purpose, for the fear never left me. It was a sharp warfare. I came across a letter, in which my good father [15] had written that St. Paul said that our God does not suffer us to be tempted beyond our power to bear. [16] This was a very great relief to me, but was not enough; yea, rather, on the next day I was in great distress at his absence, for I had no one to go to in this trouble, for I seemed to be living in great loneliness. And it added to my grief to see that I now find no one but he who can comfort me, and he must be more than ever away, which is a very sore trouble.
22. The next night after this, reading in a book, I found another saying of St. Paul, with which I began to be comforted; and being slightly recollected, I remained thinking how I had our Lord before present within me, so that I truly saw Him to be the living God. While thinking on this He spoke to me, and I saw Him in my inmost being, as it were beside my heart, in an intellectual vision; His words were: "I am here, only I will have thee see how little thou canst do without Me." I was on the instant reassured, and my fears left me; and while at Matins that very night our Lord Himself, in an intellectual vision so clear as to seem almost imaginary, laid Himself in my arms, as He is painted in the pictures of our Lady of Anguish. [17] The vision made me very much afraid, for it was so clear, and so close to me, that it made me think whether it was an illusion or not. He said to me, "Be not afraid of it, for the union of My Father with thy soul is incomparably closer than this." The vision has remained with me till now. What I have said of our Lord continued more than a month: now it has left me.
23. I was one night in great distress, because it was then a long time since I had heard anything of my father; [18] and, moreover, he was not well the last time he wrote to me. However, my distress was not so great as that I felt before, for I had hopes, and distress like that I never was in since; but still my anxiety hindered my prayer. He appeared to me on the instant; it could not have been the effect of imagination, for I saw a light within me, and himself coming by the way joyous, with a face all fair. It must have been the light I saw that made his face fair, for all the saints in heaven seem so; and I considered whether it be the light and splendour proceeding from our Lord that render them thus fair. I heard this: "Tell him to begin at once without fear, for the victory is his."
24. One day, after he came, when I was at night giving thanks to our Lord for the many mercies He had given unto me, He said to me: "O my child, what canst thou ask that I have not done?"
25. Our Lord said to me one day, in the monastery of Veas, that I was to present my petition to Him, for I was His bride. He promised to grant whatever I might ask of Him, and, as a pledge, gave me a very beautiful ring, with a stone set in it like an amethyst, but of a brilliancy very unlike, which He put on my finger. I write this to my own confusion, considering the goodness of God, and my wretched life; for I have deserved hell. Ah! my daughters, pray to God for me, and be devout to St. Joseph, who can do much. This folly I write . . . folly I write. . . .
26. On the eve of St. Laurence, at Communion, I was so distracted and dissipated in mind, that I had no power over it, and began to envy those who dwell in desert places; thinking that, as they see and hear nothing, they are exempt from distractions. I heard this: "Thou art greatly deceived, My daughter; on the contrary, the temptations of Satan are more violent there. Have patience while life lasts, it cannot be helped." While dwelling on this, I became suddenly recollected, and I saw a great light within me, so that I thought I was in another world, and my spirit found itself interiorly in a forest and in a garden of delights, which made me remember those words of the Canticle: [19] "Veniat dilectus meus in hortum suum." I saw my Eliseus [20] there, not at all swarthy, but in strange beauty: around his head was a garland of precious stones; a multitude of damsels went before him with palms in their hands, all singing hymns of praise unto God. I did nothing but open my eyes, to see whether I could not distract myself from the vision, but that failed to divert my attention; and I thought there was music also,--the singing of birds and of angels,--which filled my soul with joy, though I did not hear any. My soul was in joy, and did not consider that there was nobody else there. I heard these words: "He has merited to be among you, and all this rejoicing which thou beholdest will take place on the day he shall set aside for the honour of My Mother; [21] and do thou make haste, if thou wouldst reach the place where he is." This vision lasted more than an hour and a half. In this respect--differently from my other visions--I could not turn away from it, and it filled me with delight. The effect of the vision was a great affection for Eliseus, and a more frequent thinking of him in that beauty. I have had a fear of its being a temptation, for work of the imagination it could not possibly be. [22]
27. The day after the presentation of the Brief, [23] as I was in the most eager expectation, which utterly disturbed me, so that I could not even pray,--for I had been told that our father was in great straits because they would not let him come away, and that there was a great tumult,--I heard these words: "O woman of little faith, be quiet; everything is going on perfectly well." It was the Feast of the Presentation of our Lady, in the year 1575. I resolved within myself, if our Lady obtained from her Son that we might see ourselves and our father free of these friars, to ask him to order the solemn celebration of that feast every year in our monasteries of the Barefooted Carmelites. When I made this resolution, I did not remember what I had heard in a former vision, that he would establish this solemnity. Now, in reading again this little paper, I think this must be the feast referred to. [24]
1. F. Yepes, then prior of St. Jerome's, Toledo (De la Fuente).
2. Don Alonzo Velasquez, canon of Toledo, to whom Relation xi. is addressed. The Saint speaks of this in a letter to Fra Gratian in 1576. The letter is numbered 82 in the edition of Don Vicente, and 23 in the fourth volume of the edition of Doblado.
3. Fra Jerome Gratian (De la Fuente).
4. 1 St. Peter iv. 13: "Communicantes Christi passionibus, gaudete."
5. This took place in 1575, when she was going to found her monastery in Seville (Ribera, l. iv. c. v. n. 110).
6. See § 4, above.
7. This was in 1575, when the Saint was founding the monastery of Seville; and the brother was Don Lorenzo, returned from the Indies, and who now placed himself under the direction of his sister (De la Fuente).
8. In the Chapter "De la Clausura," § 16: "De tratar con deudos se desvien lo mas que pudieren."
9. The monastery of Paterna, of the unreformed Carmelites. This was in 1576 (De la Fuente).
10. St. Matt. xvi. 16: "Tu es Christus, Filius Dei vivi."
11. Gen. i. 26: "Ad imaginem et similitudinem Nostram."
12. Fra Jerome Gratian. This took place during the persecution that fell on the reformed Carmelites at the end of the year 1575, and during the following year. See the last paragraph of this Relation (De la Fuente; see, also, Relation vi. § 1).
13. Galat. ii. 20: "Vivo autem, jam non ego: vivit vero in me Christus."
14. A.D. 1577 (De la Fuente).
15. Jerome Gratian (id.).
16. 1 Cor. x. 13: "Fidelis autem Deus est qui non patietur vos tentari supra id quod potestis."
17. Don Vicente says, that here is a proof--if any were wanting--that the Saint wrote this after her sojourn in Seville; because in Avila and in Castile and Aragon the expression is, "our Lady of Dolors;" while in Andalucia it is our Lady of Anguish--"Nuestra Señora de las Angustias."
18. Fra Jerome Gratian.
19. Cant. v. 1.
20. This was the name given to Fra Jerome Gratian, when the Saint was driven, by the persecution raised against her, to distinguish her friends by other designations than those by which they were usually known: this fragment cannot have been written before the year 1578 (De la Fuente).
21. See the last section.
22. Don Vicente published §§ 25 and 26 as fragments separately (vol. i. pp. 524-526); but, as they seem to form a part of the series of events spoken of in this Relation, they have been placed here.
23. Fra Jerome Gratian exhibited the brief which made him Visitor-Apostolic to the unreformed Carmelites, who were very angry thereat, and rude in their vexation.
24. See § 26.
Relation X.
Of a Revelation to the Saint at Avila, 1579, and of Certain Directions Concerning the Government of the Order.
In St. Joseph of Avila, on Pentecost eve, in the hermitage of Nazareth, thinking of one of the greatest graces our Lord had given me on that day some twenty years before, [1] more or less, my spirit was vehemently stirred and grew hot within me, [2] and I fell into a trance. In that profound recollection I heard our Lord say what I am now going to tell: I was to say to the Barefooted Fathers, as from Him, that they must strive to observe four things; and that so long as they observed them, the Order would increase more and more; and if they neglected them, they should know that they were falling away from their first estate.
The first is, the superiors of the monasteries are to be of one mind.
The second, even if they have many monasteries, to have but few friars in each.
The third, to converse little with people in the world, and that only for the good of their souls.
The fourth, to teach more by works than by words.
This happened in the year 1579; and because it is a great truth, I have put my name to it.
Teresa de Jesús.
1. See Life, ch. xxxviii. § 11.
2. Psalm xxxviii. 3: "Concaluit cor meum intra me."
Relation XI.
Written from Palencia in May 1581, and Addressed to Don Alonzo Velasquez, Bishop of Osma, Who Had Been, When Canon of Toledo, One of the Saint's Confessors. [1]
Jesus.
1. Oh, that I could clearly explain to your Lordship the peace and quiet my soul has found! for it has so great a certainty of the fruition of God, that it seems to be as if already in possession, [2] though the joy is withheld. I am as one to whom another has granted by deed a large revenue, into the enjoyment and use of which he is to come at a certain time, but until then has nothing but the right already given him to the revenue. In gratitude for this, my soul would abstain from the joy of it, because it has not deserved it; it wishes only to serve Him, even if in great suffering, and at times it thinks it would be very little if, till the end of the world, it had to serve Him who has given it this right; for, in truth, it is in some measure no longer subject, as before, to the miseries of this world; though it suffers more, it seems as if only the habit were struck, for my soul is, as it were, in a fortress with authority, and accordingly does not lose its peace. Still, this confidence does not remove from it its great fear of offending God, nor make it less careful to put away every hindrance to His service, yea, rather, it is more careful than before. But it is so forgetful of its own interests as to seem, in some measure, to have lost itself, so forgetful of self is it in this. Everything is directed to the honour of God, to the doing of His will more and more, and the advancement of His glory.
2. Though this be so, yet, in all that relates to health and the care of the body, it seems to me that I am more careful than I was, that I mortify myself less in my food, and do fewer penances: it is not so with the desires I had; they seem to be greater. All this is done that I may be the better able to serve God in other things, for I offer to Him very often, as a great sacrifice, the care I take of my body, and that wearies me much, and I try it sometimes in acts of mortification; but, after all, this cannot be done without losing health, and I must not neglect what my superiors command. Herein, and in the wish for health, much self-love also must insinuate itself; but, as it seems to me, I feel that it would give me more pleasure, and it gave me more pleasure when I was strong, to do penance, for, at least, I seemed to be doing something, and was giving a good example, and I was free from the vexation which arises out of the fact that I am not serving God at all. Your Lordship will see what it will be best to do in the matter.
3. The imaginary visions have ceased, but the intellectual vision of the Three Persons and of the Sacred Humanity seems ever present, and that, I believe, is a vision of a much higher kind; and I understand now, so I think, that the visions I had came from God, because they prepared my soul for its present state; they were given only because I was so wretched and so weak: God led me by the way which He saw was necessary; but they are, in my opinion, of great worth when they come from God.
4. The interior locutions have not left me, for, whenever it is necessary, our Lord gives me certain directions; and now, in Palencia, were it not for these, there would have been committed a great blunder, though not a sin. [3]
5. The acts and desires do not seem to be so vigorous as they used to be, for, though they are great, I have one much greater to see the will of God accomplished and His glory increased; for as the soul is well aware that His Majesty knoweth what is expedient herein, and is so far removed from all self-seeking, these acts and desires quickly end, and, as it seems to me, have no strength. Hence the fear I have at times though without disquietude and pain as formerly, that my soul is dulled, and that I am doing nothing, because I can do no penance; acts of desire for suffering, for martyrdom, and of the vision of God, have no strength in them, and, most frequently, I cannot make them. I seem to live only for eating and drinking, and avoiding pain in everything; and yet this gives me none, except that sometimes, as I said before, I am afraid that this is a delusion; but I cannot believe it, because so far as I can see, I am not under the sway of any strong attachment to any created thing, not even to all the bliss of heaven, but only to the love of God; and this does not grow less,--on the contrary, I believe it is growing, together with the longing that all men may serve Him.
6. But, for all this, one thing amazes me: I have not the feelings I had formerly, so strong and so interior, which tormented me when I saw souls go to their ruin, and when I used to think I had offended God. I cannot have these feelings now, though I believe my desire that God be not sinned against is not less than it was.
7. Your Lordship must consider that in all this, in my present as well as in my previous state, I can do no more, and that it is not in my power to serve Him better: I might do so, if I were not so wicked. I may say, also, that if I were now to make great efforts to wish to die, I could not, nor can I make the acts I used to make, nor feel the pains I felt for having offended God, nor the great fears I had for so many years when I thought I was under a delusion: and accordingly, I have no need of learned men, or of speaking to anybody at all, only to satisfy myself that I am going the right road now, and whether I can do anything. I have consulted certain persons on this point, with whom I had taken counsel on the others, with Fra Dominic [i.e., Bañes], the Master Medina, and certain members of the Society. I will be satisfied with the answer which you, my Lord, may give me, because of the great trust I have in your Lordship. Consider it carefully, for the love of God! Neither do I cease to learn that certain souls of people connected with me when they died are in heaven: of others I learn nothing. Oh, in what solitude I find myself when I consider that the comparison of which I spoke to you, concerning the return from Egypt, does not apply to the child at my mother's breast. [4]
8. I am at peace within; and my likings and dislikings have so little power to take from me the Presence of the Three Persons, of which, while it continues, it is so impossible to doubt, that I seem clearly to know by experience what is recorded by St. John, that God will make His dwelling in the soul: [5] and not only by grace, but because He will have the soul feel that presence, and it brings with it so many blessings, particularly this, that there is no need to run after reflections to learn that God is there. This is almost always the state I am in, except when my great infirmities oppress me. Sometimes, God will have me suffer without any inward comfort; but my will never swerves--not even in its first movements--from the will of God. This resignation to His will is so efficacious, that I desire neither life nor death, except for some moments, when I long to see God; and then the Presence of the Three Persons becomes so distinct as to relieve the pain of the absence, and I wish to live--if such be His good pleasure--to serve Him still longer. And if I might help, by my prayers, to make but one soul love Him more, and praise Him, and that only for a short time, I think that of more importance than to dwell in glory.
The unworthy servant and daughter of your Lordship, Teresa de Jesús.
1. This Relation is usually printed among the letters of the Saint, and Don Vicente did not change the practice, assigning as his reason the Saint's reference in § 4 to certain transactions in which she was engaged. The letter is the 333rd (336th in the second edition), and the 4th of vol. ii., ed. Doblado, and is probably the latest account of the state of her soul, for she died on October 4 in the following year.
2. See Inner Fortress, vii. ch. ii.
3. This relates to the taking of the hermitage of our Lady de la Calle, in Palencia (De la Fuente). See Foundations, ch. xxix.
4. "La soledad que me hace pensar no se puede dar aquel sentido à el que mama los pechos de mi madre, la ida de Egito!" This passage, Don Vicente observes, was omitted in all editions prior to his; he does not know what it means; and the translator can give no corresponding English words. [Transcriber's note: The Spanish quoted here was printed in the body of the text, p. 479; English rendition supplied from Corrigenda, p. [viii].]
5. St. John xiv. 23: "Mansionem apud eum faciemus."
Index.
Abecedario, Tercer, iv. 8.
Agony in raptures, xx. 15.
Ahumada, de, Antonio, iv. 1.
Ahumada, de, Doña Beatriz, mother of St. Teresa, death of, i. 7; seen in heaven by the Saint, xxxviii. 1.
Ahumada, de, Juana, sister of the Saint, xxxiii. 13.
Alcala, monastery founded in, xxxvi. 29, note.
Alcantara. See St. Peter of Alcantara.
Almsgiving of the Saint, i. 6, Rel. ii. 3.
Alvarez, F. Baltasar, xxiv. 6, xxv. 18; mortifies the Saint, xxvi. 4; humility of, xxviii. 20; promise of, to protect the Saint, xxviii. 21; always consoled the Saint, xxix. 5; hesitates about the new foundation, xxxii. 16; commands the Saint to abandon it, xxxiii. 4; orders her to proceed, xxxiii. 13.
Alvarez, F. Rodrigo, Rel. viii.
Amendment of life, the work of prayer, viii. 6-12.
Amusements, vii. 1, Rel. i. 14.
Angels and evil spirits, vision of, xxxi. 11.
Angel, the Saint's vision of the, xxix. 16-18.
Answers to the Saint's prayers, xxxix. 1-7.
Antony, St., of Padua, xxii. 10.
Aranda, de, Don Gonzalo, xxxvi. 18.
Aridity, how it comes on in the second state of prayer, xv. 15.
Art, the, of serving God, xii. 2.
Ascent of the Mount, xxiii. 13.
Assumption, the, vision of, xxxix. 37.
Attachments, evil effects of worldly, xi. 5; xxiii. 5.
Augustin, St., Confessions of, ix. 8; effect of reading them on the Saint, ix. 9; saying of, xiii. 4.
Avila, birthplace of St. Teresa, troubled by the new foundation: xxxvi. 14.
Avila, Bl., Juan of, Rel. vii. 9.
Báñes, Fr. Dom., xxxvi. 15; transmits the Saint's writings to the Inquisition, Rel. vii. 16.
Barrientos. See Martin.
Barron, Fra Vicente, confessor of the Saint's father, vii. 26; hears the confession of the Saint, vii. 27, xix. 19.
Beauty of our Lord, xxviii. 2, xxix. 2, xxxvii. 5; unimaginable, xxviii. 7.
Beginners, must toil, xi. 13; and persevere, xi. 15-17; not to be afraid of the cross, xi. 25; must be content, xii. 2; certain temptations of, vii. 16, xiii. 9; must begin humbly, xv. 19.
Bernard, St., xxii. 10.
Betrothal spiritual, of the Saint, Rel. ix. 8, 25.
Bird, the soul likened to a, xviii. 13, xix. 22.
Bishopric, a, the Saint consulted about the acceptance of, xl. 21.
Blessed, the, joys of, x. 3.
Blindness healed through the prayer of the Saint, xxxix. 1.
Body, the, shares the joy of the soul in certain states of prayer, xvii. 14, xviii. 15; state of, in raptures, xx. 2, 4, 23; our Lord seen by the Saint always in His glorified, xxix. 4.
Book, a living, xxvi. 6.
Books insufficient without a director, xxii. 3.
Borja, de, St. Francis. See Francis.
Brief, the, sanctioning the observances of St. Joseph's, xxxiv. 2, xxxvi. 1, xxxix. 20.
Brizeño, Doña Maria, ii. 12; influences the Saint, iii. 1.
Bulls, the Sabbatine, xxxviii. 40.
Cardona, de, Doña Catalina, Rel. iii. 12.
Carmel, the Order of, vision concerning, Rel. iii. 14; advice to, Rel. x.
Caterpillar of self-respect, xxxi. 24.
Catherine, St., of Siena, xxii. 10.
Censoriousness of the world, xxxi. 19.
Cepeda, de, Alfonso Sanchez, father of the Saint, fond of spiritual books, i. 1; gives his daughter Maria in marriage, ii. 4, note, 8; places the Saint at school in a monastery, ii. 8; would not consent to her becoming a nun, iii. 9; takes her to Bezadas to be cured, v. 5, 6; brings her to his house in Avila, v. 15; hinders her from making her confession in an illness, v. 17; persuaded by the Saint to practise mental prayer, vii. 16; makes progress therein, vii. 20; holy death of, vii. 22-25; seen in heaven by the Saint, xxxviii. 1.
Cepeda, de, Don Lorenzo, finds money for the new monastery of St. Joseph, xxxiii. 13.
Cepeda, de, Maria, sister of the Saint, ii. 4; sudden death of, xxxiv. 24; seen in heaven by the Saint, xxxiv. 25.
Cerda, de la, Doña Luisa, xxxiv. 1; attracted by the Saint, xxxiv. 4; visited by St. Peter of Alcantara, xxxv. 6; tries to amuse the Saint by showing her diamonds, xxxviii. 5; the Saint's watchfulness over herself in the house of, xxxix. 11.
Cheerfulness, importance of, xii. 1.
Cherubim, xxix. 16.
Choice of a director, xiii. 28, 29.
Church, the, ceremonies of, xxxi. 4; the Saint's reverence for, xxxiii. 6.
Clare, St., encourages the Saint, xxxiii. 15.
Comforts, worldly, the Saint's fear of, xxxiv. 4.
Communion, effects of the Saint's, xvi. 3-10, xviii. 10-18, xxx. 16, xxxviii. 24, Rel. iv. 5, Rel. ix. 13; the Saint's longing for, xxxix. 31; graces of, Rel. ix. 20.
Complaint, loving, of the Saint, xxxvii. 13.
Confession, frequent, of the Saint, v. 17; matter of, Rel. v. 11.
Confessors, the Saint's difficulty in finding, iv. 8, 13; harm done by ill-instructed, v. 6, 20, vi. 6; one of them misleads the Saint, viii. 15; unskilful, xx. 28; wrong counsel of, xxvi. 5; of the Saint harsh with her, xxx. 15; obedience of the Saint to her, xxiii. 19, xxxiii. 4, 5, Rel, i. 9; the Saint rebuked for her affection to her, xxxvii. 6; names of the Saint's, Rel. vii. 5, 11, 12, 13.
Consecration, power of the words of, xxxviii. 30.
Consolations, xi. 21; not to be sought for, xxii. 15.
Contemplation, xxii. 1; why granted to imperfect souls, xxii. 22, 23.
Contempt, Satan shuns, xxxi. 10; the Saint directed to treat her visions with, xxix. 6.
Contradiction of good people, xxviii. 24, xxx. 6.
Conversation, worldly, vii. 10; danger of, ii. 5, vii. 10; delight of our Lord in spiritual, xxxiv. 20.
Conversion of a wicked priest, v. 12; of a sinner, xxxix. 5.
Courage of the Saint, viii. 10; necessity of, x. 8; effects of, xiii. 3; necessary in the way of perfection, xxxi. 19.
Covetousness, xxxiii. 14.
Cowardice, spiritual, xiii. 6.
Creator, the, traces of, in things visible, ix. 6.
Crosses, xi. 8; desired by souls in the prayer of imperfect union, xvi. 9.
Cross, the, way of, xi. 8, xv. 17, 21; necessity of carrying, xxvii. 14.
Daza, Gaspar, xxiii. 6; thought the Saint was deluded by an evil spirit, xxiii. 16; approved of the new foundation, xxxii. 21.
Delusion, a, into which the Saint fell, xxii. 3; the Saint always prayed to be delivered from, xxix. 6.
Delusions incidental to locutions, xxv. 3, 11.
Desires, good, xiii. 8, xxi. 9, Rel. xi. 5.
Desolation, spiritual, of the Saint, xxx. 10.
Detachment, blessing of, xi. 2, xxxiv. 20; necessity of, for prayer, xi. 16, xv. 17; of the perfect, xv. 18; an effect of raptures, xviii. 8, xx. 10; takes away the fear of death, xxxviii. 7; the Saint's, from kindred, xxxi. 22, Rel. ii. 5, Rel. ix. 11; from directors, Rel. iv. 3.
Detraction, avoided by the Saint, vi. 4, vii. 3; insensibility to, Rel. ii. 4.
Detractors, the Saint prays for her, xix. 11.
Devotion, sweetness in, never asked for by the Saint, ix. 10; but once, ix. 11; those who seek it censured, xi. 21; the Saint's, increased by difficulties, xxviii. 10.
Die, either to, or suffer, xl. 27.
Direction, unskilful, viii. 15, 16; importance of, xiii. 4; methods of wrong, xiii. 25; not to be the same for all, xxxix. 16.
Directors ought to be experienced, xiii. 21; and prudent, xiii. 24; and learned, xiii. 26; choice of, xiii. 28; charity of, xiii. 29; should be secret, xxiii. 14; and humble, xxxiv. 15; should be trusted, xxxix. 35; necessary, xl. 12; the Saint preferred those who distrusted her, Rel. vii. 18.
Discouragements, xi. 15; must be resisted, xix. 6; certain causes of, xxxi. 21.
Discretion, xi. 23, xiii. 2; excessive, xiii. 8.
Distraction of the understanding in the prayer of quiet, xv. 10, xxx. 19; in monasteries not caused by poverty, xxxv. 3.
Distrust of self, viii. 18, ix. 3; necessity of, xix. 20.
"Domine, da mihi aquam," xxx. 24.
Dominicans, the, help St. Teresa, v. 8, Rel. vii. 11-14.
Dominion, true, xl. 21.
Dove, vision of a, xxxviii. 13, 14.
Ecija, vow of the Saint in the hermitage of, Rel. vi. 3.
Ecstasy, xx. 1; how wrought, xx. 2; fear during, xx. 9; first, of the Saint, xxiv. 7.
Egypt, flesh-pots of, xv. 5.
Elevation of the spirit not to be attempted in union, xviii. 8.
Eliseus. See Jerome, Fra, of the Mother of God.
Enclosure, observance of, how important, vii. 5.
Endowments not accepted by the Saint for her monasteries, xxxv. 4, 5; offered for St. Joseph, xxxvi. 19; and forbidden by a Brief, xxxix. 20.
Envy, a holy, xxxix. 19.
Exorcisms, the Saint threatened with, Boll. 211, xxix. 4.
Experience, more valuable than books, xiv. 10; a safeguard against delusion, xiv. 11.
Faith, the, Satan was never able to make the Saint doubt, xix. 13; blessed effects of, xxv. 16.
Falls turn to our good, xix. 8.
Fear, xxv. 27; of God, xxvi. 1.
Founders of religious Orders, xxxii. 17.
Francis, St., xxii. 10.
Francis, St., de Borja visits the Saint, xxiv. 4; consulted by her, Rel. vii. 5.
Friendship, advantages of spiritual, vii. 33-37, xxx. 6; with God, xv. 8; the Saint's detachment from, xxiv. 8.
Friendship, worldly, dangers of, ii. 4, v. 9; deceitfulness of, xxi. 1.
Garden, the prayer in the, ix. 5; the soul likened to a, xi. 10, xiv. 13.
Gifts of God, the, importance of discerning, x. 4; demand our gratitude, x. 7; supply strength, x. 8; a grace to understand, xvii. 7; the Saint erroneously advised to conceal, xxvi. 5; given according to His will, xxxiv. 14, xxxix. 12; the Saint's joy when others received, xxxiv. 21.
God, sense of the presence of, x. 1; helps those who love Him, xi. 19; never fails those who trust Him, xiii. 15; munificence of, xviii. 5; the Saint has a vision of, xl. 13, 14; pain of absence from, Rel. iv. 6.
Grace, prayer the door of, viii. 13; comes after trials, xi. 18; the Saint's distress because she could not know whether she was in a state of, xxxiv. 12; vision of a soul in, Rel. iii. 13.
Guzman, de, y Barrientos, Don Martin, sudden death of, xxxiv. 24.
Hardships of the religious life, xiii. 30.
Health, anxiety about, v. 3-8; importance of, in the spiritual life, xi. 23; to be made little of, xiii. 9.
Heaven, Queen of, xix. 9; revealed in raptures, xxxiii. 16, xxxviii. 8.
Hell, a vision of, xxx. 14, xxxii. 1; effects of, on the Saint, xxxii. 7-10.
Heretics, self-condemned, vii. 8; evil state of, xxxii. 9; resemble a broken mirror, xl. 9.
Hilarion, St., the Saint commends herself to, xxvii. 2.
Honour, point of, xxi. 12.
Hugo, Fra, Cardinal of Santa Sabina, xxxvi. 27.
Humanity, the Sacred, xii. 3, xxii. 1; mistake of the Saint concerning, xxii. 3; source of all grace, xxii. 9; never to be lost sight of in prayer, xxii. 11; the Saint directed to fix her thoughts on, xxiii. 18; the Saint renews her love of, xxiv. 2; vision of, xxviii. 4, xxxviii. 22.
Humility, advantages of, vii. 37, xii. 9; false kinds of, x. 4, xiii. 4; the foundation of the Christian life, xii. 5; worth more than all the science in the world, xv. 13; grows most in the state of perfect union, xix. 2; dangers of false, xix. 15-23; acquired in raptures, xx. 38; foundation of prayer must be laid in, xxii. 16; a false, the most crafty device of Satan, xxx. 12; asking for consolations not consistent with, xxxix. 21-23.
Hypocrisy, the Saint not tempted to, vii. 2, Rel. i. 18.
Ibañez, Fra Pedro, x. 10, note, xvi. 10; note 6; consulted by the Saint about the new foundation, xxxii. 19; encourages the Saint to persevere, xxxii. 20; confident of success, xxxiii. 5; departs from Avila, xxxiii. 7; advises the Saint to accept an endowment for the new foundation, xxxv. 5; changes his opinion, xxxv. 7; and helps the Saint, xxxvi. 23; seen by the Saint in a vision, xxxviii. 15, 16.
Illness of St. Teresa, iv. 6, v. 4; extreme severity of, v. 14.
Image of our Lord not to be mocked, xxix. 7.
Images, devotion of the Saint to, vii. 3; effects of, on her, ix. 1-3; great blessing of, ix. 7.
Imagination of St. Teresa not active, ix. 6; wearisome to her, xvii. 9.
Imitation of the Saints, xiii. 5-9.
Imperfections, rooting up of, xiv. 14.
Impetuosities in prayer, xxix. 11-13, Rel. i. 3, Rel. viii. 13.
Impetuosities of divine love, xxix. 10, 11, 13, xxxiii. 9; physical effects of, xxix. 15.
Incarnation, the monastery of the, the Saint enters, iv. 1; the nuns of, complain of the Saint, xix. 12; the Saint tempted to leave, xxxi. 16; the rule not strictly observed in, xxxii. 12; the Saint's affection for, xxxii. 13, xxxiii. 3; nuns of, object to the new foundation, xxxiii. 2; election of prioress, xxxv. 8; the Saint returns to, from Toledo, xxxv. 10, xxxvi. 1; troubled because of the new foundation, xxxvi. 11.
Indisposition, bodily, evil effects of, on the spiritual life, xi. 23.
Ingratitude, delusion arising from the dread of, xxiv. 6; the Saint bewails her, xiv. 16.
Inquisition, the, threats of denouncing the Saint to, xxxiii. 6.
Inspirations, good, not to be resisted, iv. 3.
Intentions, good, no excuse for an evil act, v. 12.
Jerome, Fra, of the Mother of God, Rel. vi. 1-3, Rel. ix. 7, 21, 23, 26.
Jerome, St., xi. 17, xxxviii. 2; the Saint reads the letters of, iii. 8.
Jesus, the Society of, helps the Saint, v. 8; sought by her, xxiii. 3, 19; visions concerning, xxxviii. 17, 39.
Job, patience of, v. 16; trial of, xxx. 12.
John, St., of the Cross, Rel. iii. 19.
Joseph, St., great devotion of the Saint to, vi. 9, xxx. 8, xxxvi. 5; the teacher of prayer, vi. 12; encourages the Saint, xxxiii. 14; vision of, xxxiii. 16.
Joseph, St., the monastery of, purchase of the site of, xxxii. 22; not to be subject to the Order, xxxiii. 18; paradise of God's delight, xxxv. 13; foundation of, xxxvi. 4; destruction of, threatened by the council of the city, xxxvi. 14; obtains the good will of the people, xxxvi. 25; goodness of the nuns of, xxxix. 14.
Joys, of prayer, x. 3; of visions, xxvii. 13; of the saved, xxvii. 15.
Judas, temptation of, xix. 16.
Judgment, day of, xl. 16.
Kindred, detachment from, xxxi. 22, Rel. ix. 11.
Kings, obligations of, xxi. 2, 4; wherein lies the power of, xxxvii. 8.
Labourer, story of a, xxxviii. 26.
Laxity in religious houses, vii. 6-10.
Learning, accompanied with humility, a help to prayer, xii. 6; useful in directors, xiii. 24-26; the Saint wishes for, xiv. 9; not necessary in prayer, xv. 12.
Lie, a, Satan is, xxv. 26; the Saint's hatred of, xxviii. 6.
Life, the, of the Saint, under what circumstances written, x. 11.
Life, weariness of, xxi. 8; the illuminative, xxii. 1.
Light of visions, xxviii. 7, xxxviii. 3.
Locutions, divine, xix. 14, xxv. 1, 2; delusions incidental to, xxv. 3, 11; efficacy of, xxv. 5, 12; human, xxv. 8; Satanic, xxv. 13; tests of the Satanic, xxv. 17; nature of, xxvi. 3; state of the understanding during, xxvii. 10; effects of the divine, xxxviii. 19-21.
Locutions heard by the Saint, xviii. 18, xix. 13, xxiv. 7, xxv. 22, xxvi. 3, 6, xxix. 7, xxx. 17, xxxi. 15, xxxii. 17, xxxiii. 10, 14, xxxv. 7, 9, xxxvi. 20, xxxviii. 4, 19, 20, xxxix. 29, 34, xl. 1, 21, 24, Rel. iii. 1, passim, Rel. iv. 4, 5, 6, Rel. ix. 1, passim.
Lord, our, accounted mad, xxvii. 15.
Love, joyous, in seeing a picture of Christ, ix. 7; servants of, xi. 1; wherein it consists, xi. 20; vehement in perfect souls, xv. 6; effects of divine, xxii. 21; makes itself known without words, xxvii. 12; impetuosities of, xxix. 10, 11; fire of, xxx. 25.
Loyalty, worldly, v. 9.
Ludolf of Saxony, xxxviii. 11.
Lukewarmness, vii. 1.
Lutherans, xxxii. 9, Rel. ii. 14; destroyers of images, Rel. v. 5.
Madness, spiritual, xvi. 1-8, xxvii. 15.
Magdalene, the, ix. 2, xxi. 9; her example to be followed, xxii. 19.
Mancio, F., Rel. ii. 18.
Mantles of the religious folded by the Saint, xxxi. 27.
Maria of Jesus, xxxv. 1; founds a house in Alcala de Henares, xxxvi. 29.
Martin, Don, Guzman y Barrientos, marries a sister of the Saint, ii. 4, note, iii. 4; sudden death of, xxxiv. 24.
Martyrdom desired by the Saint, i. 4.
Martyrs, the, sufferings of, xvi. 6.
Mary and Martha, xvii. 6, xxii. 13.
Meditation, advantage of, iv. 11; fruits of, xi. 20; example of a, xiii. 19; the perfect may have to return to, xv. 20.
Memory, the, in the prayer of imperfect union, xvii. 5, 9; troublesome, but not hurtful, xvii. 11.
Mendoza, de, Don Alvaro, Bishop of Avila, xxxiii. 19; protects the new monastery of St. Joseph, xxxvi. 18.
Men, great, difficult of access, xxxvii. 7.
Mercies of God, the remembrance of, xv. 23.
Michael, St., the Saint commends herself to, xxvii. 2.
Misdirection, a, corrected by the Saint, xiii. 22.
Mitigation, the Bull of, xxxii. 12; disused in the new monastery, xxxvi. 27, 28.
Monasteries, courts in politeness, xxxvii. 17.
Munificence of God, xviii. 5, xxii. 26.
Neatness, excessive, ii. 2, Rel. i. 23.
Novices in St. Joseph's, xxxix. 15.
Novitiate of the Saint, v. 1.
Nun, illness of a, in the monastery of the Incarnation, v. 3; visions concerning a, xxxviii. 37, 38.
Obedience, the Saint writes under, xviii. 10; strict observance of, in the Society of Jesus, xxxiii. 9; of the Saint to her confessors, xxiii. 19, Rel. i. 9, 29, Rel. vii. 14.
Objects, natural, moved the Saint to devotion, ix. 6.
Ocampo, de, Mary, xxxii. 13, note.
Office, the divine, the Saint's imperfect knowledge of, xxxi. 26.
Order, vision concerning a certain, xl. 18, 19.
Osorno, Countess of, Rel. iii. 16.
Ovalle, de, Don Juan, xxxv. 14, note; providential illness of, xxxvi. 2.
Padranos, de, Juan, xxiii. 18; directs the Saint, xxiv. 1; removed from Avila, xxiv. 5.
Pain of raptures, xx. 11; sweetness of, xx. 19.
Paradise of His delight, xxxv. 13.
"Passer solitarius," xx. 13.
Passion, the, devotion of the Saint to, ix. 5; meditation on, xiii. 19, 20, xxii. 8.
Patience of a nun, v. 3; of the Saint, v. 16; of God, viii. 8.
Penance, necessity of, xxvii. 14; of the Saint, xxiv. 2, Rel. i. 5, Rel. ii. 11, Rel. xi. 2.
Perfection, xxi. 10; true safety lies in, xxxv. 15; not always attained to because of many years spent in prayer, xxxix. 21.
Persecution, of the Saint, xix. 12, xxxvi. 12; blessings of, xxxiii. 5.
Perseverance in prayer, viii. 5; fruits of, xi. 6; reward of, certain, xi. 17; the Saint prays for, xiv. 17; and recommends, xix. 7.
Peter, St., of Alcantara, xxvii. 4; penitential life of, xxvii. 17-21, xxx. 2; power of, with God, xxvii. 22; understands and comforts the Saint, xxx. 5, 7, Rel. vii. 6; quiets a scruple of the Saint, xxx. 20; approves of the new foundation, xxxii. 16; and of the observance of poverty in it, xxxv. 6; in Avila when the Saint came back from Toledo, xxxvi. 1; death of, xxxvi. 1, note; appears to the Saint, xxxvi. 20, 21; said that women make greater progress than men, xl. 12.
Phoenix, the, xxxix. 33.
Pilgrims, xxxviii. 8.
Pillar, the, meditations on Christ at, xiii. 19, 31.
Politeness, monasteries courts in, xxxvii. 17.
Poverty, effects of defective, xi. 3; of spirit, xxii. 17; the Saint's love of, xxxv. 3, Rel. i. 10, Rel. ii. 2.
Prayer, mental, viii. 7; blessings of, viii. 12; joys of, x. 3; the Saint's four states of, xi. 12; fruit of mental, xi. 20; vocal, xii. 3; doctrine of, difficult, xiii. 18; importance of persevering in, xv. 5; must have its foundations in humility, xxii. 16; of the Saint continued in sleep, xxix. 9; effects of intercessory, xxxi. 9; two kinds of, xxxix. 8-10; the Saint's method of, Rel. i. 1.
Preachers, xvi. 12.
Presence of God, the, xviii. 20; practice of the, xii. 3; effects of, in the prayer of quiet, xiv. 8; different from vision, xxvii. 6.
Priest, conversion of an evil-living, v. 9, xxxi. 7; vision concerning a, xxxviii. 29.
Progress made in the way of raptures, xxi. 11.
Prophecies made to the Saint, xxxiv. 23; fulfilled, Rel. ii. 6, 17.
Provincial, the, of the Carmelites offers to accept the new foundation, xxxii. 16; then declines it, xxxii. 18; sends the Saint to Toledo, xxxiv. 2; recalls her, xxxv. 8; reprimands the Saint, xxxvi. 12; allows the Saint to live in the new monastery, xxxvi. 23; death of, xxxviii. 34-36.
Purgatory, the Saint saw certain souls who were not sent to, xxxviii. 41; and delivers others from, xxxix. 6.
Queen of heaven, the, devotion to, xix. 9.
Quiet, the prayer of, iv. 9, ix. 6, xiv. 1, passim; disturbed by the memory and the understanding, xiv. 5; joy of the soul in, xiv. 7; few souls pass beyond, xv. 3, 7; great fruits of, xv. 6; how the soul is to order itself in, xv. 9; difference between the true and false, xv. 15.
Rank, slavery of, xxxiv. 6.
Rapture, xx. 1; irresistible, xx. 3, xxii. 20; effects of, xx. 9, 30; pain of, xx. 11; loneliness of the soul in, xx. 13; characteristics of, xx. 23; duration of, xx. 25; physical effects of, xx. 29, Rel. i. 26, iv. 1; made the Saint long for heaven, xxxviii. 8; good effects of, Rel. i. 8, 15.
Reading, spiritual, i. 1, iv. 12, 13; persevered in by the Saint, viii. 14; long unprofitable to her, xii. 10; impossible in the prayer of perfect union, xviii. 14; a delight, Rel. i. 7.
Recollection, prayer of, xiv. 2, Rel. viii. 3.
Recreation, xiii. 1.
Reflections, making, when dangerous in prayer, xv. 11.
Reform, the Carmelite, beginning of, xxxii. 13.
Religious must despise the world, xxvii. 16.
Resignation of the Saint, xxi. 6, Rel. i. 20.
Revelations, the Saint never spoke of her, when she consulted her confessors, xxxii. 19.
Rosary, the, of the Saint, xxix. 8.
Rule, the Carmelite, mitigation of, xxxii. 12; restored by the Saint, xxxvi. 27; observance of, xxxvi. 30, 31.
Salasar, de, Angel. See Provincial.
Salazar, de, Gaspar, Rector of the Society of Jesus in Avila, xxxiii. 9; understands the state of the Saint, xxxiii. 11; bids the Saint go to Toledo, xxxiv. 2; vision of the Saint concerning, xxxviii. 17.
Salcedo, de, Don Francisco, xxiii. 6; gives spiritual advice to the Saint, xxiii. 11; fears delusions, xxiii. 12; helps the Saint in her new foundation, xxxii. 21, xxxvi. 21; hospitable, xxxvi. 1; gives Communion to the Saint when a priest, Rel. iii. 7.
Samaria, the woman of, xxx. 24.
Satan, subtlety of, iv. 14; an artifice of, vii. 12, 35; suggests a false humility, xiii. 5; and a carefulness for health, xiii. 9; afraid of learned directors who are humble, xiii. 26; efforts of, to deceive, how thwarted, xv. 16; tempted the Saint to give up prayer, xix. 8; a lie, xxv. 26; unable to counterfeit intellectual visions, xxvii. 4-8; tries to counterfeit imaginary visions, xxviii. 15; appears to the Saint, xxxi. 2; dislikes contempt, xxxi. 10; wiles of, Rel. i. 29.
Scandal, xxvii. 16.
Scorn, signs of, not to be made during visions, xxix. 6.
Self, contempt of, necessary in the spiritual life, xxxi. 23.
Self-denial, necessity of, xxxi. 25.
Self-knowledge, xiii. 23.
Self-love, xi. 2; strong and hurtful, xi. 4, 5.
Self-respect, harm of, xxi. 12.
Senses, the, suspension of, in the prayer of perfect union, xviii. 19.
Sensitiveness, xi. 4.
Sermons, viii. 17; without simplicity, xvi. 12.
Shame, good fruits of, v. 9.
Sicknesses of the Saint, xxx. 9.
Sickness sent for penance, xxiv. 2.
Sight restored at the prayer of the Saint, xxxix. 1.
Sincerity of the Saint, Rel. i. 28.
Sin, occasions of, viii. 14; pain occasioned by the sins of others, xiii. 14; original, xxx. 20; the Saint, by her prayers, hinders a great, xxxix. 3; wickedness of, xl. 15; vision of a soul in, Rel. iii. 13.
Sins, the Saint consents to the divulging of her, x. 10.
Solitude, longings for, i. 6, vi. 5, Rel. i. 6.
Sorcery, v. 10.
Soto, de, the Inquisitor, Rel. vii. 8.
Soul, our own, the first object, xiii. 13, 14; likened to a garden, xi. 10, xiv. 13; in the prayer of quiet, xv. 1; growth of, xv. 20; powers of, in the prayer of imperfect union, xvi. 1, 4; beside itself, xvi. 1-5; crucifixion of, in raptures, xx. 14; detachment of the enraptured, xx. 33; strengthened in raptures, xxi. 14; effects of visions in, xxvii. 11; helplessness of, without God, xxxvii. 11; vision of a lost soul, xxxviii. 31; the Saint's vision of her own, xl. 8; and of, in a state of grace, Rel. iii. 13, Rel. v. 6.
Spirit, liberty of, xi. 25; poverty of, xxii. 17; flight of the, xviii. 8, Rel. viii. 11.
Spirits, evil, put to flight, xxv. 25; by holy water, xxxi. 4.
Spirituality influenced by bodily health, xi. 24.
Suarez, Juana, iii. 2; accompanies the Saint to Bezadas, iv. 6.
Sufferings, physical, of the Saint, iv. 7, v. 4, 14, vi. 1; of raptures, xx. 16; the Saint longs for, xl. 27.
Sweetness, spiritual, never sought by the Saint but once, ix. 11; seekers of, censured, xi. 21; of the pain of raptures, xx. 19; the Saint unable to resist it at times, xxiv. 1.
Tears, gift of, iv. 8, xxix. 11; of the Saint before a picture of the Passion, ix. 1; in the prayer of quiet, xiv. 5; in the prayer of perfect union, xix. 1, 2; the Saint prays God to accept her, xix. 10.
Temptation, power of, xxx. 13.
Tenderness of soul, x. 2.
Teresa, St., desires martyrdom, i. 4; placed in a monastery, ii. 8; unwilling to become a nun, ii. 10; becomes more fervent, iii. 2; is resolved to follow her vocation, iii. 6; first fervours of, iv. 2; failure of health, iv. 6; God sends her an illness, v. 4; suffers grievously, vi. 1; afraid of prayer, vi. 5; leads her father to prayer, vii. 16; present at her father's death, vii. 22; perseveres in prayer, viii. 2; found it hard to pray, viii. 10; delights in sermons, viii. 17; devout to the Magdalene, ix. 2; never doubted of God's mercy, ix. 8; depreciates herself, x. 9; willing to have her sins divulged, x. 10; always sought for light, x. 13; complains of her memory, xi. 9; unable to explain the state of her soul, xii. 10; supernaturally enlightened, xii. 11; reads books on prayer to no purpose, xiv. 10; writes with many hindrances, xiv. 12, xl. 32; bewails her ingratitude, xiv. 16; scarcely understood a word of Latin, xv. 12; understands her state in the prayer of imperfect union, xvi. 3; and describes it, xvi. 6; bewails her unworthiness, xviii. 6; writes under obedience, xviii. 10; confesses ignorance, xviii. 20; abandons her prayers for a time, xix. 8; evil spoken of, xix. 12; misled by false humility, xix. 23; prays to be delivered from raptures, xx. 5, 6; never cared for money, xx. 34; gives up her whole being to God, xxi. 7; unable to learn from books, xxii. 3; afraid of delusions, xxiii. 3; is directed by a layman, xxiii. 10; severe to herself, xxiv. 2; her first ecstasy, xxiv. 7; had no visions before the prayer of union, xxv. 14; told by her confessor that she was deluded by Satan, xxv. 18; prays to be led by a different spiritual way, xxv. 20, xxvii. 3, Rel. vii. 7; not afraid of Satan, xxv. 27; spoken against, xxvi. 3; troubles of, because of visions, xxvii. 4, xxviii. 6; her defence when told that her visions were false, xxviii. 18, 19; afraid nobody would hear her confession, xxviii. 20; harshly judged by her directors, xxviii. 23; would not exchange her visions for all the pleasures of the world, xxix. 5; vehemence of her love, xxix. 10; her supernatural wound, xxix. 17; manifests her spiritual state to St. Peter of Alcantara, xxx. 4; bodily trials of, xxx. 17; finds no relief in exterior occupations, xxx. 18; buffeted by Satan, xxxi. 3; converts a great sinner, xxxi. 7; troubled because well thought of, xxxi. 13-17; her singing of the Office, xxxi. 26; commanded to labour for the reform of her Order, xxxii. 14; commanded to abandon her purpose, xxxiii. 1; her vision in the Dominican church, Avila, xxxiii. 16; goes to Toledo, xxxiv. 3; the nuns wish to have her as their Prioress, xxxv. 8; restores a child to life, xxxv. 14, note; begins the Reform, xxxvi. 4; her grievous trial, xxxvi. 6, 7; her health improved, xxxvi. 9; would suffer all things for one additional degree of glory, xxxvii. 3; her affection for her confessors, xxxvii. 6; supernaturally helped when writing, xxxviii. 28; obtains sight for a blind person, xxxix. 1; and the cure of one of her kindred, xxxix. 2; her spiritual state became known without her consent, xl. 28; submits all her writings to the Roman Church, Rel. vii. 16.
Theology, mystical, x. 1, xi. 8, xii. 8; the Saint says she does not know the terms of, xviii. 4.
Thomas, St., assisted at the deathbed of Fra P. Ibañez, xxxviii. 15.
Throne, vision of a, xxxix. 31, 32.
Trance, a, xviii. 17, xx. 1; outward effects of, xl. 11; gradual, Rel. viii. 10.
Transport, Rel. viii. 10.
Trials followed by graces, xi. 18; promised to the Saint, xxxv. 9; shown her in a vision, xxxix. 25.
Trinity, the, mystery of, revealed to the Saint, xxxix. 36; visions of, Rel. iii. 6, Rel. v. 6-8, Rel. viii. 20, Rel. ix. 12.
Truth, divine, xl. 3-7.
Ulloa, de, Doña Guiomar, xxiv. 5; takes the Saint to her house, xxx. 3; helps the Saint to accomplish the reform, xxxii. 13; is refused absolution, xxxii. 18.
Understanding, the, use of in prayer, xiii. 17; disorderly, xv. 10; powerless in the state of imperfect union, xvi. 4; and of the perfect union, xviii. 19; the Saint speaks humbly of her, xxviii. 10.
Union, imperfect, prayer of, xvi. 1; a mystical death, ib.; the soul resigned therein, xvii. 1; how it differs from the prayer of quiet, xvii. 5, 6; another degree of, xvii. 7; the labour of the soul lessens in the later states of, xviii. 1.
Union, perfect, prayer of, xviii. 1; the senses wholly absorbed in, xviii. 3, 14; duration of, xviii. 16; fruits of, xix. 4.
Union, prayer of, iv. 9; followed by visions in the Saint, xxv. 14.
Union, what it is, Rel. v. 2; of the faculties of the soul, Rel. viii. 7.
Vainglory, vii. 2, 34, x. 5, Rel. i. 18, Rel. ii. 15, Rel. vii. 23.
Vanity of possessions, xx. 35; the Saint's watchfulness over herself herein, xxxix. 11.
Virtue, growth of, in the prayer of quiet, xiv. 6; and in that of imperfect union, xvii. 4.
Visions, our Lord seen in, vii. 11, xxv. 14, xxvii. 3, xxviii. 2; intellectual, xxvii. 4; different from the sense of the presence of God, xxvii. 6; joy of, xxvii. 13; imaginary, xxviii. 5; effects of, in the soul, xxviii. 13; Satan tried to simulate, xxviii. 15; effects of, in the Saint, xxviii. 19; cessation of the Saint's imaginary, xxix. 2; of the Sacred Humanity, effects of, xxxviii. 23.
Water, holy, puts evil spirits to flight, xxxi. 4, 5, 9, 10.
Water, the first, xi. 13; the second, xiv. 1; the third, xvi. 1; the fourth, xviii. 1.
Will, the state of, in the prayer of quiet, xiv. 4, xv. 2, 10; in the prayer of imperfect union, xviii. 16.
Women, great care necessary in the direction of, xxiii. 14, 15; make greater progress than men, xl. 12.
World, the, contempt of, x. 7, xxvii. 16; customs of, wearisome, xxxvii. 15, 16; hard on good people, xxxi. 19; vanity of, Rel. i. 21.
Wound of the soul, Rel. viii. 16; of love, Rel. viii. 17.
Ybañez. See Ibañez.
Yepes, Rel. ix. 1.
Zeal, indiscreet, xiii. 11.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, by Teresa of Avila
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