 Chapter 25. She treats of the way how those words and speeches are to be understood, which God communicates to the soul without any voice or sound being heard. I think it would be well to explain here what kind of speech that is which God makes use of to the soul, and what she feels, that so your reverence may understand it. For from the time when our Lord did me this favor, which I have mentioned, it often happens to me even now, as you will see by what follows. They are certain words very distinctly formed in the soul, which, though not heard with the corporeal ears, are understood much more expressly and clearly than if they were so heard. Nor can the soul avoid understanding them, and giving her whole attention to them. And it is useless to resist, however much we may strive. When in this world we do not wish to hear, we can stop our ears, or else attend to other things in such a way that though we may hear the words, yet we shall not understand them. But when God speaks to the soul, there is no remedy whatever, but we are made to listen to the words whether we will or know, and the understanding is obliged to be very attentive in order to comprehend them. Thus, whether we wish or know, God wishes we should understand him, and because he is all-powerful, that which he resolves must be done, and so he is known as the true Lord of us all. Of this truth I have had much experience, for the resistance I made continued almost two years, on account of the fears I had. And even now I feel this fear sometimes, but resistance is of little use. I should be glad to mention the errors that may happen here, though it seems to me that a person who has great experience would commit few or none, but this experience must be great. I should also like to declare the difference which exists when the spirit is good, or when it is bad, or between that which comes from an imagination formed by the understanding itself, which may happen, or between what the soul says to herself. I know not whether this can happen or know, though even this very day I think it has happened so. When the words come from God, I have experienced their truth in many things which were told to me two or three years before. They all proved true, until now not one has failed. There are also other things by which the spirit of God is clearly seen, as I shall afterwards relate. To me it seems that a person who recommends something to God with great earnestness may fancy that he foresees whether the affair will succeed or not. This I say is very possible, but he who understands things in the other way of which I have spoken will clearly discover what will happen, because there is a great difference between the two ways of hearing. And if it be something which the understanding forms, however delicately done, he understands that something is ordained and said. It is just like a person discoursing or listening to what another says, and the understanding will discover that it does not listen then, because it works. And the words which it frames are, as it were, mute and fantastical, and not delivered with the same clearness as those others were. And here it is in our power to turn our attention to something else, or to hold our peace when we speak. But in the other case, we have no such power. There is another sign much more important than all the rest. What is said by ourselves produces no effect. But when our Lord speaks, He utters both words and produces effects, and though they should not be words of devotion, but of reprehension, they immediately dispose the soul, they enable her to be affected, they enlighten her, regal her, and satisfy her. And should she be in a state of dryness, commotion, or disorder, these words take it all away, as it were, with the hand. Yea, and even much better than the hands could do. For it seems then our Lord wishes us to understand that He is powerful and that His words are deeds. It seems to me that there is as much difference as there is between one speaking or hearing, neither more nor less. For what I speak I order, as I have mentioned, with my understanding. But if another speak to me, I do know more than hear, without any trouble at all to myself. In the first kind of words, we cannot be certain if what we say be the truth. For we are like men half asleep, but the other words come from a voice so clear, that not one syllable of what is said is lost. And yet these things happen sometimes when both the understanding and the whole soul are in such great distraction and disorder, that they would never be able to form any reasonable discourse. But the soul finds in this other discourse certain great and important sentences so well arranged, that though she were ever so perfectly recollected, she would be unable to produce such, and yet at the very first word thereof, as I have said, a total change is produced in her. Especially if the soul be in a rapture, when the powers are suspended, how will those things be understood which never came to her memory before? And how will they come then, when the memory does not act, and when the imagination has, as it were, become foolish? But here we must notice that whenever either visions are seen or these words heard, it is never, in my opinion, at that time when the soul is absorbed in the rapture itself. For at those periods, as I think I mentioned when speaking of the second water, all the powers are entirely lost. And hence we can then, in my opinion, neither see nor hear nor understand. The soul is wholly in the power of another at that time, but only for a short time, and me thinks our Lord does not give her any liberty then in anything. But when that short time has passed, the soul remains still in the rapture, and the reason is, because the powers remain in such a way that, though they are not lost, yet they hardly operate at all, but are, as it were, absorbed, and not able to perform any discourses. But there are so many ways of discovering the difference between what is true and false, that if the soul should be deceived once, it would not happen so often. I say also, that if the soul have any experience, and be careful in observing what passes, she will see the truth very clearly. For besides all the other ways whereby that will be seen which I have mentioned, these words produce no effect, nor does the soul admit them. But those which come from God she must receive, whether she will or know. Neither does she give any credit to the other words, but rather discovers that they are the effect of an idle imagination, just in the same way as we should pay no attention to whatever a madman might say to us. But the supernatural words are as if we were listening to some very holy or learned person of great authority, and such a one we know would not deceive us. But this is indeed a mean comparison, because these words sometimes bring with them such a great majesty, that without reflecting who it is that utters them, even should they be words of reprehension, they make us tremble, and should they relate to divine love, then they make the soul dissolve, as it were, in loving. And these are things which, as I have before mentioned, are far from our remembrance, and such deep sentences were so suddenly pronounced, that a long time would be required to have formed and arrange them. I think then, it seems impossible, that we ourselves should imagine we could form such words. There is no reason then why I should delay any longer on this point, for I think it would be a wonder if an experienced person could be deceived herein, unless he purposely wished to be deceived. It has often happened to me, if I were in any doubt, not to believe what was told me, but to think it was my own fancy. This I do when the occasion is past, but now it is impossible, for I have seen the words fulfilled a long time after, because our Lord is pleased the same should remain in the memory, for it cannot be forgotten. That which comes from the understanding is only the first movement, as it were, of our thought, which passes away and is forgotten. But the other is a work, rather than a word, and though some part of it may be forgotten in the course of time, yet the memory cannot lose it entirely, so as to forget what was said, unless it be a long time after, or except they be words of doctrine or words of favor. But if they relate to prophecy, in my opinion they can never be forgotten. At least this never happened to me, though I have a bad memory. I wish to repeat, that if a person be not so wicked as to take pleasure in deceiving himself, by being persuaded that he understands what he does not understand, it is impossible for him not to see clearly, that it is the soul who frames these words and speaks to herself, especially if she have any understanding at all of the Spirit of God. For if she have not, she may remain in this error during all her life, and may perhaps imagine she understands these words, though I know not how this could be. Either the soul desires to understand them or know. If she casts away that which she understands, and in no way desires to understand anything, on account of her innumerable fears, and for many other reasons which she may have, in order that she may remain quiet in prayer without such things. How comes she to allow so much time to the understanding, so as to be able to form these discourses? Time is necessary for these. But by this other way we are instructed without any loss of time at all, and we come to understand certain things in an instant, when at other times a month would be required. The understanding and the soul are amazed at some things which are understood. This is the truth, and whoever has any experience will see that all I have said is very correct. I bless God, who has enabled me thus to declare it. And now I end this part of my discourse by saying that, in my opinion, when such words come from the understanding, we may easily know it if we wish. And every time that we are in prayer, we may fancy that we understand the words. But in this other way it is not so, for there will be many days wherein, though I should wish something respecting them, it is impossible. And when at other times I have no wish, then I am able to understand them, as I have said. And it seems to me that whosoever desires to deceive others, saying that he knows this comes from God, which in reality comes from himself, might as well assert he heard it with his own ears, for it would cost him little. It is very true that I never thought there was any other method of hearing or understanding, till I found in my own case that what I now say is correct, and this costs me a great deal of trouble. When these things come from the devil, they not only produce no good effects, but they also produce evil effects. But this has not happened to me above twice or three times, and I was instantly informed by our Lord that it was the devil. Besides the great dryness they leave behind them, they give the soul much trouble likewise. In the same way as when at other times our Lord permitted me to have great temptations and troubles of different kinds, and that I should often be tormented, as I shall relate afterwards. This is a disquiet, and we cannot understand once it comes, but it seems the soul resists it, and troubles herself thereby, and is afflicted without knowing why, because the devil says such and such a thing is not bad, but good. I think if one spirit is sensible of the presence of another, that the pleasure and delight which the diabolical spirit gives are, in my opinion, very different from those which God gives. The devil by these delights may easily deceive a person who has never received any from God. For these coming from him are indeed true delights, which infuse a sweet, strong, deep-rooted, quiet, delightful pleasure and joy. As to certain little devotions of the soul and other slight feelings, they are like young flowers which fall away at the least wind of persecution. These I do not call devotions, though they may be good beginnings and holy feelings, but they are not sufficient to determine whether the effects come from a good spirit or a bad one. It is therefore necessary to proceed with great caution. For those who have advanced no further in prayer than this, may easily be deceived if they should have visions or revelations. I never had these last till God was pleased in His goodness to give me the prayer of union, unless it were that first time of which I have spoken. And it happened to me many years ago when I saw Christ our Lord, and would that His majesty had been pleased to make me understand at that time that it was a true vision, as I knew it was so afterwards, for this would have been of great use to me. From the delusions of the devil no sweetness whatever remains in the soul, but she feels much terror and great disgust. I consider it certain that God will never permit the devil to deceive any soul which places no confidence at all in herself, and is strengthened in her faith so firmly that she would die a thousand deaths for the least article thereof. And this love for her faith, and it is a strong and lively faith, infused into her immediately by God, always induces her to act in conformity with what the Catholic Church holds and teaches. Like one who is so deeply persuaded of the truth, that all possible revelations which could be imagined, not even if she saw the heavens opened, could make her very in the least point from the doctrine of the Church. But if she once began to waver, even in thought, against this truth, or to entertain herself by saying, if God himself speak thus to me, as he has to the saints, this may also be true. I do not say that she believes it, but that the devil begins to tempt her by this first motion to continue therein. But she already sees how very evil this is. But I believe that often even these first motions will not attack a soul on this point. If she be already so strong as our Lord makes that soul to which he grants these favors. And I think she could tear these devils to pieces whenever the question was respecting the least article which the Church holds. I say then, that if the soul do not find in herself this great strength, and that her devotion or vision which she may have is of no help thereto, she must not consider the vision to be a true and safe one, because, though the evil may not be perceived immediately, it might become great by little and little. For as far as I can understand and know by experience, the truth of such visions depends on their conformity with holy scripture. And when they go against this rule, however slightly, it seems to me that I should have without comparison, much greater reason to consider that they came from the devil than that they came from God, however great the conviction might seem to be. In this case there would be no necessity to seek for signs, nor to examine from what spirit the vision came, since the sign would be clear as to make us believe it was from the devil, and even if all the world should assure me it was from God, I would not believe it. The truth is that when these things come from the devil, it seems that all blessings hide themselves and even fly from the soul. So unquiet and in such disorder does she remain, without feeling any good effect. And though some good desires may seem to be excited in her, yet they are not strong or effectual. The humility the devil leaves behind is false, unquiet and without sweetness. And I think anyone who has experienced the good spirit will understand this. However, the devil knows how to play many tricks, and therefore in this matter, nothing is so certain but that something may still be feared from him. We must proceed then with caution and have a director who is learned. From him we must conceal nothing, and then no harm can come to us, though I have had my share thereof. Through the excess of fears to whom some of the religious were subject. It once happened especially that many persons met together in whom I placed great confidence, and I had reason to do so, though it was to one particularly that I gave the greatest confidence. Still, when he commanded me, I spoke with others also. They consulted with one another about finding a remedy for my soul, for they loved me much and feared I might be deceived. I was also subject to very great fears when I was not in prayer, but when I was, and our Lord was pleased to show me any favor, I immediately became calm and secure. I think there were five or six, all of whom were great servants of God, but my confessor told me that they were all firmly convinced my prayer came from the devil, and they advised me not to communicate so often, and to employ myself in such a way that I might not be alone. As I have already mentioned, I was extremely timid, and the palpitation of my heart made me more so, so that often I had not courage to be alone in my room, even in the daytime. As so many asserted my prayer came from the devil, though I could not believe it myself, I began to be extremely scrupulous, thinking I had but little humility, because they were all much more holy without comparison than I was, and they also were learned men, and therefore I said, why should I not believe them? I forced myself as well as I could do so, and I thought much of my own wicked life, and how likely it was that what they said was true. Thus being afflicted I went into the church, and entered an oratory, having abstained many days from communicating, and avoided being alone, though solitude had formerly been my greatest consolation. All this I did without having anyone to speak to, for they were all against me. Some of them I thought even laughed at me, whenever I spoke to them. Others advised my confessor to take care of me, and others said that it was quite clear I was deluded by the devil. My confessor alone gave me comfort, though as I learned afterwards he agreed with the others so far as to have me examined, and he told me that though it should be the devil, yet if I did not offend God, he could do me no harm that my difficulties would be removed. That I should pray to God frequently and earnestly, and that he, and the others, and many more persons would do the like. All my prayer was, as well as the prayers of those who I thought were servants of God, that his majesty would direct me by some other way. I remained about two years and thus continually supplicating our Lord. I could have no comfort in any way when I thought it was possible that the devil had often spoken to me. But as I now spent no more time in solitude and in prayer, our Lord gave me the gift of recollection, even when I was engaged in conversation, and this without my being able to avoid it. And he said to me what he pleased, though it troubled me to hear him. Being once all alone, without having anyone near to console me, I could neither pray nor read, but was like one amazed at my great tribulation, and I was also terrified, wondering if the devil could have power to deceive me. And being thus harassed and fatigued, without knowing what to do with myself, though I had often seen myself in such affliction, yet never had I been in such great trouble, I thought. I remained four or five hours in this state, and there seemed to be no comfort for me, either on earth or in heaven. In the midst of the sufferings our Lord gave me, and under the fear also of a thousand dangers. But oh my Lord, how true a friend art thou, and how powerful, what thou wilt, thou canst effect, and thou never dost forsake or cease to love those who love thee. May all creatures praise thee, O Lord of the world, O that I could cry out loud enough through the universe, in order to proclaim how faithful thou art to thy friends. All things fail, but thou, the Lord of them all, dost never fail. How little is that which thou allowest those who love thee to suffer. O Lord, how delicately, how wisely, and how sweetly does thou know how to treat such souls. O that I had never loved anyone but thee. It seems, O Lord, that sometimes thou tryest with rigor those who love thee, that so, by the excess of their affliction, they may understand the better the excess of thy love. O that I had understanding, and learning, and new words, that I might be able to proclaim thy works, as my soul knows them. These I have not, but if thou wilt not desert me, I will never forsake thee. Let all the learned men in the world rise up against me. Let all creatures persecute me. Let the devils torment me. Provided only thou, O Lord, wilt not forsake me. For I know well by experience, with how great advantage thou deliverest all those who put their confidence in thee alone. When I was in this great trouble, even before I had begun to have any visions at all, these words alone were sufficient entirely to free me from all trouble. Fear not, daughter, it is I. I will not forsake thee. Do not fear. It seems to me that considering what I was then, a long time would have been necessary to persuade me to compose myself, and that no one would have been able to do it. And yet, behold, I was consoled by these words alone, and endued with strength, with courage, with repose and light in such a manner, that I saw my soul in that instant had become quite another creature. O how good is God! O how good and how powerful is the Lord! He gives not only advice, but remedies also. These words are works. How is our faith hereby strengthened, and our love increased? Thus I often call to mind how our Lord, when a tempest had risen at sea, commanded the winds in the waves, and there came a great calm. And I used to say then, who is this whom all the powers of my soul obey, and who in an instant gives such dazzling light to chase away such great darkness, and makes that heart become soft, which seemed before to be as hard as a stone, and who gives the water of sweet tears, where before there was so long such a great drought. Who inspires these desires? Who gives such courage? What have I been thinking of that I should fear? What is this? I desire to serve this Lord, and I wish for nothing but to please him. I renounce all pleasure and ease and every other good, save only the doing of his will, and of this good I was sure, as I can easily affirm. Since then this Lord is so powerful as I see he is, and know he is, and since all the devils are his slaves, and of this I can have no doubt since it is of faith. What harm can they do me, who am a servant of this Lord and King? Why may I not have strength enough to fight with all the powers of hell? Thus I spoke. I then took a cross into my hand, and it really seemed to me, God gave me such courage that, in a short time, I was not afraid to encounter the devils, but believed I could with that cross easily overcome them all, and thus I challenged them. Now come all of you, for being a servant of God, I wish to see what you can do against me. It is very certain I thought they were afraid of me, for I remained so quiet and so fearless of them all, that even till this day, all the fears I formerly entertained are now entirely removed. And though I have sometimes seen them, as I shall afterwards relate, yet I never feared them more, rather did it seem that they were afraid of me. I have a certain dominion over them, given to me by the Lord of all creatures, so that I make no more account of the devils than of so many flies, and they seem to me to be so cowardly, that when they see little notice is taken of them, they have no strength or power whatever. These enemies only know how to attack those who give themselves up to them, or they make their attacks only when God permits them, for the greater good of his servants, whom they tempt in torment. I wouldn't might please his majesty to make us fear him, whom we ought to fear and to make us understand, that we receive greater harm from one venial sin than from all the powers of hell put together. This is certainly true. But when by our affection for honors, riches, and pleasures, we give the devils hold of us, by our loving and desiring that which we ought rather to abhor, then indeed they will do us much harm, for we enable them to put fight against us with our own arms, with which we put into their hands, and with which we ought to defend ourselves. What a great pity this is. But if we now resolve to detest all these for the love of God, and to embrace his cross, and to serve him in good earnest, the devil flies away from these resolutions, as we should do from the plague. He is the friend of lies and a lie itself. He will have nothing to do with one who walks in truth. But when once he sees a man's understanding obscured, he skillfully labors to obscure it still more. He helps us to blind ourselves, and considering us only as children. He treats us as such, because he sees that we place all our satisfaction in the vain things of this world, which are only toys fit for children. With such, he wrestles more or less as he sees cause. May our Lord be pleased that this may never be my case, but may he rather do me the favor to make me understand that to be ease and rest, which is indeed true ease and true rest, and that to be honor which is true honor, and that to be pleasure which is true pleasure, and not the direct contrary to all this. And then I care not a fig for all the devils in hell, for they will be afraid of me. I do not understand those fears by which we exclaim, the devil, the devil, when we ought rather to say, oh my God, my God, and so make the devil tremble. Do we not already know that the devil is unable to move unless our Lord permit him? What then is the cause of all our fears? I acknowledge that I fear those more who are so frightened at the devil than I fear the devil himself, because he is quite unable to do me any harm, whereas these others, especially if they be confessors, may put our souls to much trouble. I myself have spent so many years in such great trouble that I now am amazed when I consider how I had been able to endure it. Blessed be our Lord, who has so truly assisted me. Amen. End of Chapter 25 Chapter 26 of the Life of St. Teresa. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ann Boulet. The Life of St. Teresa by Teresa of Jesus, translated by the Reverend John Dalton. Chapter 26 The same subject is continued. The Saint mentions many things which happened to her. I esteem the courage which our Lord gave me against the devils, to be one of the great favors which he was pleased to confer upon me, because for a soul to go cowardly on and to be fearful of nothing but offending God is a very great inconvenience. For since we have a King who is omnipotent and so great a Lord that he can do all things and make all men subject to him. We have no reason to fear if we walk before him with sincerity and purity of conscience. And for such an object, I should be glad to have all possible fears not to offend him at any time, who is able at that very instant to annihilate us. But as long as his majesty is pleased with us, no one can stand against us. You may perhaps say that this is very true, but where shall we find a soul so upright as to please him entirely? And because she is not so pure, she is in fear. I answer, not my soul certainly, for she is very miserable, unprofitable, and filled with a thousand miseries. But God does not act with such rigor as men do, for he knows our frailty, and the soul can understand by means of numerous conjectures. Whether she really loves God or no, because whoever arrived at this state, their love is not then a disguised love as it was at the beginning. But it is attended with such a great impulse and desire to see God, as I shall relate afterwards, that all things afflict, all things weary entire, all things torment the soul, unless she be with God, or suffering or doing something for God. There is no repose which does not displease her, because she sees herself absent from her true repose, and thus it is very clear, as I have mentioned, that things are not dissembled here. It happened to me once that I found myself in great tribulation, having to suffer many columnies on account of a certain affair of which I shall speak afterwards, from all the religious where I lived, and even from the whole order, and being also greatly afflicted by the opposition of the whole city. Then it was that our Lord addressed these words to me, of what art thou afraid? Does thou not know that I am omnipotent? I will accomplish all that I have promised thee. And he indeed fulfilled his promise very well afterwards. After these words I felt such new strength within me, that I thought I could then have easily undertaken other things for his service, though they might cost me much more trouble, and have suffered again much more for him. Hearing these interior words has happened so often to me, that I am not able to mention the number of times. Our Lord has made me, and still continues to make me, so severe reproaches, on account of the imperfections I sometimes commit, that they are sufficient to annihilate the soul. At least they bring with them her amendment, because his majesty, as I have mentioned, gives both advice and the remedy. At other times he brings to my remembrance my past sins, especially when he wishes to be stow on me some extraordinary favor. And this he does in such a way, that the soul sees herself as she will do at the great day of judgment, and the truth is represented to her with such a clear knowledge, that she knows not what to do with herself. At other times he is pleased to put me on my guard against certain dangers relating to myself and others, which have not happened till three or four years after. These were all fulfilled, and some of the events might be mentioned if necessary. Thus there are so many proofs that these things come from God, that in my opinion no one can be ignorant about the matter. The most secure way is not to fail to declare the state of my whole soul, and the favors our Lord bestows upon me to my confessor, to see that he be learned and to be careful in obeying him. This is the course which I take, and without this I could have no security, as our Lord has often told me. And indeed it is not fit that we women should have any, for we have no learning, and there can be no harm in this, but many advantages. I once had a confessor who mortified me very much, and sometimes he even afflicted me, and gave me a great deal of trouble and uneasiness. And yet he was a person who, in my opinion, did me the most good. And though I had a great esteem for him, I had some temptations to leave him, for the trouble he gave me concerning my prayer quite harassed me. But whenever I determined to leave him, I immediately understood I was not to do so, and I received a reprehension from our Lord, which I felt much more acutely than anything my confessor could impose upon me, and sometimes he tired me by asking me questions on the one hand, and giving me some reproof on the other. And all this I had need of, so weak a will I had. He told me once that I was not to obey if I were not resolved to suffer, and that I should consider what he had endured for me, and then everything would become easy. Another confessor, to whom I had confessed in the beginning, gave me this advice, that since it had been proved the Spirit which directed me was good, I should now keep matters quiet, and not tell the least thing to anyone, because it was much better not to mention these favors. This advice pleased me, because every time I mentioned them to my confessor I felt great trouble, and indeed so great was my repugnance, that I had much less difficulty in declaring my greatest sins. But especially if I mentioned those high favors which I had received, I thought my confessors would not believe me, but rather laugh at me. I was so troubled by this thought, that such conduct appeared to me to be a kind of irreverence towards the wonders of God, and for this reason I wished to conceal them. But I soon understood that my confessor had given me bad advice, and that I was by no means to conceal anything from him to whom I confessed, because therefore I should have great security, but that if I acted otherwise, I might sometime or other be deceived. Whenever our Lord commanded me anything in prayer, if my confessor bade me do otherwise, our Lord would tell me to obey my director. His majesty would afterwards direct him to command me to do that very thing, which our Lord himself had commanded me before. When many of my Spanish books were taken away from me, so that I could not read, I was in great trouble, for it was a recreation for me to read some of them. But then I could read none, for what had been left were in Latin. On this occasion our Lord thus spoke to me, Be not troubled, for I will give thee a living book. I could not understand what these words meant, for then I never had any vision. But within a short time afterwards I understood them very well, for I have had so much to think of and recollect myself about, concerning those things which were presented to me, and our Lord has shown me so great love by instructing me in so many ways, that I have had very little need of books, or rather no need at all. His majesty has been a living book to me, wherein I have seen many truths. Blessed be such a book, which leaves imprinted in the heart what we read there, and this in such a manner that it can never be forgotten. Who can behold our Lord covered all over with wounds and afflicted with persecutions, and not embrace them and love them? Who can have even but a glimpse of that glory, which he gives to those who serve him? And not know that all we can possibly do or suffer here is nothing, since we hope to receive such great rewards? How can he, who considers the torments the wicked endure in hell, help esteeming all the sufferings of this life to be delights, in comparison with those torments? And not acknowledge how indebted he is to our Lord for having delivered him so often from that place of woe. But because I intend, by the divine assistance, to speak here after more in particular concerning some of these things, I wish now to continue the account of my life, and God grant that I may have known how to express myself properly in what I have already said. I firmly believe that whoever has had experience in these matters will have understood me, and that I have managed to say something to the purpose. But those who have had no such experience will perhaps imagine I have been talking nonsense. It is sufficient to state this, that so I may not be blamed, nor will I blame anyone who may be of a different opinion. May our Lord assist me that I will always do his will. Amen. End of Chapter 26 Chapter 27 of the Life of St. Teresa. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ann Boulet. The Life of St. Teresa by Teresa of Jesus. Translated by the Reverend John Dalton. Chapter 27 The Saint mentions another way by which our Lord instructs the soul, and makes her understand his will. She speaks also of a wonderful vision she had, etc. To return now to the history of my life, I continued in great affliction and trouble, but at the same time had many prayers offered for me to our Lord, that he would be pleased to conduct me by another way, which might be more secure, since I was told that the former was a suspicious way. But true it is, that though I earnestly beg this favor from God, yet considering how evidently my soul was improved by the other way, I could never find it in my power to desire it heartily, though I still did it in some degree. Unless it were sometimes when I was harassed and distressed by what I was told, and by the fears with which my confessors filled me, I had now become quite another creature, and I could not help putting myself in the hands of God. Beceaching him that, since he knew what was fit for me, he would be pleased to accomplish his holy will in all things concerning me. I saw clearly that by this way my soul was carried up to heaven, which formerly was dropping down to hell. Why, therefore, should I desire such a thing? And as for believing those favors came from the devil, it was not in my power to force myself into such an opinion. Still I did what I could to desire the one and to believe the other, but as I have said, it was not in my power. I offered for this object a few poor works which I performed, if indeed I did any at all. I became devoted to some of the saints, that by their means I might be delivered from the devil. I performed novinas, and I recommended myself to St. Hilarion and to St. Michael the Archangel for this purpose. Many other saints also I importuned, that by their prayers our Lord might show me the right way. At the end of two years, which both myself and others spent in prayer, that so our Lord might either conduct my soul by some other way, or show me the truth, for now those words I have before spoken of were very common. The following circumstance happened to me, which I will now relate. Being one day in prayer, on the festival of the glorious St. Peter, I saw a standing very near me, or to speak more properly, I felt and perceived, for I saw nothing at all, either with the eyes of my body or my soul. That Christ our Lord was close by me, and I found it was He who spoke to me, as I thought. As I had been up to this time extremely ignorant as to whether there could be any such vision as this, I fell at first into a great fear, as I could do nothing but weep. But presently our Lord gave me comfort by speaking only one word, and I found myself, as I was wont, very quiet, with great delight and without fear. It seemed that Christ went always by my side, but the vision not being imaginary, nor represented in any form to the imagination, I perceived not in what shape He was, though I found, and felt very sensibly, that He was always on my right side, that He was the witness of whatever I did, and that if I were recollected, even a little, or rather, unless I was very much distracted, I could not help understanding that He was near me. I went immediately to my confessor, being much aggrieved that I was obliged to tell him what happened. He asked me what form our Lord had when I saw him. I told him I did not see him. My confessor then inquired how I knew it was Christ. I answered, I knew not how, but that I could not help understanding our Lord was close by me, for I found and felt clearly that it was so, that the recollection of my soul in the prayer of quiet was far greater and more continual, that the effects also were very different from those others which I formerly experienced. In a word, the thing appeared to me very certain and evident. I made use of several comparisons, whereby to make myself understood, and yet, in my opinion, there is none which properly explains this kind of vision. For as this is one of the highest kind, according to what that holy and spiritual man, Father Peter of Alcantara, told me, as well as other great and learned men. So one cannot find words in this world to express it. At least, we who know so little cannot, though learned men may make themselves better understood. But if, as I say, I saw our Lord neither with the eyes of the body or of the soul, because it was no imaginary vision, how can I understand and assert more clearly that he was near me than if I had actually seen him? It seems as if a person were in the dark and saw not another who stood near him, or as if the person were blind. This is something of a comparison, though not much. For even if a person were blind, he might know another was present by his other senses, because he could hear him speak or stir, or might touch him. But here there is nothing at all of this, nor is there any darkness. But our Lord's presence is represented to the soul by a sign, clearer than the sun itself, and yet no sun or brightness is seen, but only a certain light, which, without our seeing it, illuminates the understanding. That so the soul may enjoy so great a good, this vision brings also great benefits with it. This is not a presence of God, such as many times is perceived, especially by those who have arrived at union or the prayer of quiet, who, when they begin to make that prayer, seem to find the person ready at hand to whom they speak, and they fancy he hears them by the effects and the spiritual sediments which are produced, such as those of great love and faith and resolutions accompanied with great tenderness and devotion. And though this is a great favor of God, and highly to be esteemed by him to whom it is given, yet it is no vision. We only understand that God is there, by the effects which are, as I have said, produced in the soul, for in this manner his majesty wishes to make himself perceived. But here we see clearly that Christ our Lord, the Son of the Blessed Virgin, is present. In the other method of prayer, certain influences of the divinity are represented, but here, together with them, we find that the most sacred humanity also accompanies us, and wishes to be stowed favors upon us. My confessor then asked me this question, who told you that it was Jesus Christ? He himself told me so, I answered, and this very often. But even before he told me this, my understanding was impressed with the truth that it was he, and this before he told me so. And yet, I saw him not. If anyone whom I had never seen, but had only heard something about him, had come to speak to me, and I were either blind or in the dark, and should he tell me who he was, I should believe him. Still, I should not be able so positively to assert it was he, as I should be had I seen him. But in this case I could assert it. For there is imprinted so clear a notice of his presence in the mind, without our seeing him, that it seems impossible to doubt it. And our Lord wishes to have so engraven on the understanding that it can no more be questioned than what we actually see, no, nor so much. We sometimes suspect things which we see, and fancy this or that without any reason, but here, though this suspicion may arise suddenly, yet on the whole we remain so certain that a doubt cannot continue. And so also it happens, though in a different manner, that God instructs the soul, and speaks to her without speaking in the way I have already mentioned. This is a language which is so heavenly, that we cannot well understand it in this world, however much we may desire to do so, unless our Lord himself be pleased to teach it by experience. Our Lord places in the very interior of the soul whatever he is pleased the soul should understand, and there he represents it without any image or form of words, but only by that manner of vision already spoken of. And let us mark well this manner of God's making the soul understand what he will, and his great truths and mysteries. For often that which I understand from our Lord in any vision, his majesty is pleased to represent to me in this way, and it seems for these reasons, where the devil is least able to intermeddle or intrude himself. And if these reasons are not good, I am likely to be deceived. This kind of vision is so spiritual, and so also is the language, that there is no noise nor tumble in the powers of the mind, nor in any of the senses of the body, in my opinion. And by this means the devil can gain no advantage. This happens sometimes, but it lasts only for a short time. At other times it seems to me that neither the powers of the mind are suspended, nor the senses of the body taken away, but they are all occupied in themselves. But this does not always happen in contemplation, or rather it happens very seldom. But when the senses are lost, I was saying that we neither operate nor do anything ourselves, but all seems to be the work of our Lord. It is like food conveyed into the stomach, without our either having eaten it, or so much as knowing who placed it there. All we know is that there it is. Though we neither know what the food is, nor who placed it there. But in this other case the food is known, though I cannot tell how it got there, for neither did I see it, nor do I understand it, nor was I ever moved to desire it, nor did I ever know before that such a thing could possibly be. In the heavenly discourse of which I have already spoken, God makes the understanding reflect upon that which is said, whether it will or no. For there it seems as if the soul had some other kind of ears to hear, and that he makes her listen, and not think of something else. As one who could hear well were not allowed to stop his ears, but people cried aloud to him. And thus, whether he wished or not, he would be obliged to hear. Still he does something, since he endeavors to understand what they say. To hear the soul does nothing, for even that little which was done in the former case, and which consisted only in listening, is taken away from her now. She finds now everything ready dressed and eaten, so that she has nothing more to do but to enjoy her food. It is like a person who, without ever having learnt, or so much as having endeavored to read, or without having studied at all, should find himself in possession of the whole of that science. And this without knowing either how, or whence it came, since he had never endeavored to acquire it, or even learn his ABC. This last comparison, I think, explains some part of this celestial gift, for the soul perceives that she has become wise on a sudden, and that the mystery of the most holy trinity, and other very sublime truths, are so clearly explained to her, that she could argue with any divine on the truth of these high subjects. The soul, on these occasions, seems so amazed that even one such favor is this, is sufficient to produce a total change in her, and to make her love nothing but him, who, without any labor on her part, has made her capable of such unspeakable blessings, who communicates the secrets to her, and speaks to her with such great friendship and love as cannot be written in words, because he shows her some favors which are so admirable, that unless we have a lively faith, we cannot conceive it possible God should grant such favors to one so unworthy of them. I am thinking, then, of mentioning only a few of those which our Lord has shown to me, unless I be commanded to do otherwise. And some of the visions, if mentioned, may perhaps do some good, that so if there be any persons to whom our Lord may have imparted the like, they may not wonder, nor consider them impossible, as I did. Or these visions may show the way and manner by which our Lord conducted my soul, and this is what I have been commanded to write. Let us now return to the manner of our understanding these things. To me it seems our Lord is here, please, that our soul should have some knowledge of that which passes in heaven, and that as the blessed understand one another there without speaking, the truth of which I never knew till our Lord in his goodness made me see it, and showed it to me in a rapture. So also it should be here, that God and the soul might understand one another. And this for the soul reason that his majesty is pleased they should do so, without any other artifice being used to make known the love which these two friends bear each other. Just as in this world, when two persons love one another very dearly and have a good understanding, they seem able to understand each other without any signs, by only looking at one another. Thus ought it to be in our case, since without our knowing expressly how these two lovers look earnestly at each in the face, as the spouse in the book of Canticle saith to his beloved, for so I think I have heard it mentioned there. O admirable benignity of God, who does permit thyself to be looked upon by those eyes which have abused their sight so much just as the eyes of my soul did. After the sight of thee, O Lord, let them now be accustomed no more to look upon base objects, nor to take pleasure in anything out of thee. O ingratitude of mortals, how far will thou go? I know by experience that this is true which I am saying, and that what I have mentioned is the least of those favors, which thou giveest to a soul whom thou bringest to such a state as this. O ye souls, who have begun to use mental prayer, and all you who have true faith, what blessings do you seek which can in any way be compared to the least of those which are obtained by the servants of God, even in this mortal life, not to mention the happy eternity hereafter? Consider that even in this world it is quite true that God gives himself to these who forsake all things for the love of him. He is no acceptor of persons, he loves everyone, and no one has any excuse, however wicked he may have been, since our Lord acted in this manner with me, and raised me to such a state. Consider also that what I am saying now is not so much as a cipher of what may be said, so much only is mentioned as is necessary for making this kind of vision, and the favors which our Lord gives the soul somewhat understood, but I cannot declare that which the soul feels when our Lord is pleased to impart to her his secrets and his greatness, a delight so superior to all that can possibly be imagined in this world, that with great reason it makes her a bore the pleasures of this life, all of which put together are but dirt. It is even loathsome to compare those pleasures with the joys of this world, even though they could be enjoyed forever. And of these pleasures, what proportion does God give us in this life? No more than a single drop of water is to that great overflowing river which is prepared for us above. It is a shame, and I apply it to myself, and if it were possible for souls to be ashamed in heaven, I should be a shame there much more justly than anyone else. That we should desire such great blessings and delights and such infinite glory, all at the cost of our good Jesus. Should we not at least weep over him with the daughters of Jerusalem? If we will not help him to carry the cross with Simon of Cyrene, how can we think of coming to enjoy, by pleasures and pastimes, that which he purchased for us at the cost of so much blood? This is impossible, and how can we think by aspiring to vain honors, to be able to remedy that scorn and contempt which he endured for us, that so we might remain forever with him? No, no, we take quite a wrong course. We shall never reach our journey's end by such a way. Your reverence must cry aloud to make these truths heard, and since God has deprived me of this liberty, I wish to be always crying out to myself, how late did I come to hear and know God? This will be seen by what I have written, and it is a source of great confusion to me to speak of it, and therefore I now wish to hold my peace. I will only mention what I have sometimes been considering, these, that God may be pleased to bring me to such a state, that I may enjoy this immense good. What an accidental glory and pleasure will it be for the blessed who enjoy this happiness, when they shall find that, though it was late, yet they omitted nothing which was possible for them to do for the love of God. Nor do they fail to present him with the most they could possibly offer in every way, according to the strength which they had, and as their state allowed them. How rich will he find himself, who left all the riches he had for Christ? How full of honor, who rejected all earthly honor, and rejoiced only in seeing himself despised, for love of him? How wise will he be, who rejoiced that men considered him a fool, since wisdom itself was called by that name? How few such persons are in this world, on account of their sins. Alas, it seems that all those have departed long ago, whom the world has want to consider foolish, when it saw them perform those heroic acts of true lovers of Christ. Oh, world! Oh, world! How aren't thou esteemed? Because thou hast few that know thee. But to what estate have we come, when men imagine that God is better served by them, when they are considered to be wise and discreet? This must need be so, according as we now understand the word discretion. And we think we give little edification unless we make a show of great gentility and authority, each one according to his state. Even friars, priests, and nuns think it a novelty to wear anything which is old or patched, as well as an occasion of scandal to the weak, and even to be recollected and addicted to prayer. To such a state has the world come. But the study and practice of Christian perfection, and the great impulses which the saints were accustomed to have, do much more harm, I believe, to the wretched creatures who live in these times than any scandal which could arise from religious persons publishing that to the world by their works, of which they speak by their words, that so mankind might hold the world in little esteem. From such scandals as these our Lord draws great good, and if some are scandalized, others will repent of their sins, and will have in their actions some trace of what Christ and his apostles suffered. For now we have more need of this than ever. What an excellent example did God lately take from us, in the person of that blessed man, Father Peter of Alcantara, the world was no longer able to endure such perfection. Men say that our health is now not so good, and that we cannot live now as people did in former times. But that holy man lived in our time, and yet he had as fervent a spirit as men had in other days, and he trod the world no less under his feet. For though we do not go barefoot, nor do such austere penances as he did, yet there are many ways whereby we may tread the world under our feet. Our Lord will teach us these ways when he finds a soul fit to learn them. And how great a soul did God bestow on this saint of whom I am now speaking, to enable him to continue for seven and forty years. A course of such sharp and vigorous penance as all know his to have been. I will say something about it, for I know it is all true. He told it to me and to another from whom he concealed little, and the reason why he told it was the great love he bore me. And this our Lord gave him to protect me and encourage me at the time of my greatest necessity, of which I have already spoken and will declare further. He told me how, to the best of my remembrance, he had slept no more than an hour and a half between day and night for the space of forty years, and that this was the greatest difficulty he found in his penance at the beginning to overcome himself in point of sleep, and that for this purpose he was always obliged to be either kneeling or standing, and when he slept it was in a sitting posture, leaning his head against a little piece of wood which he had driven into the wall, that he could not lie down at full length in his cell, even if he wished, for it was not above four feet and a half long, as is well known. During all these years he never put on his hood, how hot so ever the sun, or how great so ever the rain might be. He never wore anything on his feet, and his body was clad only with a habit of thick coarse sackcloth. Without any other thing next to his skin, and this as straight as could be endured, with a short mantle of the same material over it. He told me that when the weather was extremely cold, he was accustomed to put off his mantle and to leave the door and the little window of his cell open, that so when he afterwards put his cloak on again and shut his door, he might give his body so much refreshment by it, as that it might be quiet with this additional warmth. It was usual for him not to eat till the third day. He asked me why I was astonished at this, for he said it was very possible for one who had accustomed himself to it. A companion of his told me that sometimes it happened he ate nothing for eight days. This perhaps might have been when he was in prayer, for then he used to have great raptures and impulses of the love of God, of which I myself was an eyewitness. His poverty was extreme, and so also was his mortification from his youth. For he told me he had lived three years in a house of his order without knowing any of the religious, except by their speech, for he never lifted up his eyes. Hence, when he was obliged to go from one place to another, he knew not how, except by following the other religious. This was the case on journeys, as to women, for many years he never looked at anyone. He told me that it was now all the same to him whether he saw anyone or did not see them. But when I became acquainted with him, he was then very old, and his weakness so extreme that he seemed to be made only of the roots of trees. With all this sanctity he was very affable, though he expressed himself in few words, unless some question were asked him. In them he was very agreeable, for he had an excellent understanding. Many other things I should like to mention, but I fear your reverence might ask me why I turn to this subject, and even this little I have not written without some fear, I shall add no more, but only that he died as he lived, preaching to and admonishing his friars. When he saw his last end approaching, he exclaimed, Leteimo sum in his quedicta sunt mihi, etc. Footnote, I rejoiced at the things that were said to me, we shall go into the house of the Lord. Psalm 126, end footnote, and kneeling down, he expired. Since then our Lord has been pleased to let me enjoy more of his life than I did when he was alive, for he gives me advice in many things. I have often seen him in exceeding great glory. The first time he appeared he said, Oh happy penance, which has obtained so greater reward. And many other things he said. A year before he died he appeared to me when we were some distance from each other. I understood that he was to die and I warned him of it. When he expired he appeared to me and told me that he was going to rest. I did not then believe it, but yet I mentioned it to some persons, and within eight days after the news came to us that he was dead, or rather to speak more properly, that he had then begun to live forever. Behold here the severe penance of his life, which ended in so much glory that me thinks he comforts me now much more than when he was alive. Our Lord told me once that men should not ask anything in his name without being heard, and I have myself recommended many things to him that he might beg them of our Lord, and I always found them granted. May our Lord be blessed forever. Amen. But what a discourse I have been making, that so I might excite your reverence not to esteem anything in this world, as if you did not know this already, or were not determined to abandon all things and to perform what you had resolved upon. But I see such wickedness in the world, that though it may profit little for me to speak, and though it may be tiresome for me to write, still it does give me some ease, even though I should speak against myself. May our Lord forgive me whatever I may have committed in this particular, and I beseech your reverence also to pardon me for putting you to so much unnecessary trouble. It seems that I wish to make you do penance for what I myself have committed. Chapter 28 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Anne Boulete. The Life of Saint Teresa by Teresa of Jesus. Translated by the Reverend John Dalton. Chapter 28 The Saint Speaks of the Great Favors Our Lord bestowed upon her, and how he appeared to her for the first time. But now to return to what I was speaking of. I had that kind of vision for some days continually, and it was so profitable to me that I never omitted prayer, and besides whatever I happened to do, I took care it should be done in such a manner that it might not displease him, whom I evidently saw to be there, as a witness of all that past. And though sometimes I feared on account of what I was told, still my trouble did not last long, because our Lord comforted and encouraged me. Being one day in prayer, it pleased our Lord to show me his sacred hands, and they were so excessively beautiful that I am not able to describe them. But this sight gave me great fear, as indeed every new sight does in the beginning of any of those supernatural favors which our Lord is pleased to show me. Within a few days after, I saw his divine face, the sight of which, me thinks, left me quite absorbed. I could not conceive why our Lord showed himself thus to me, by little and little. Since afterwards he resolved to do me the favor that I should see his whole person, till I came to reflect that our Lord was pleased to conduct me according to my natural weakness. May he be blessed forever, since such great glory united together, so base and wicked a creature as myself could not have endured. And therefore our merciful Lord, who knew this, disposed of things in this manner. Your reverence may, perhaps, imagine that there was not any need of much strength to behold hands and face so beautiful. But glorified bodies are so beautiful that the glory they bring along with them, when we behold such supernatural and delightful objects, quite amazes and distracts the soul. And thus I was so frightened at first, that I fell into great trouble and disorder, though afterwards I gained certainty and security. With other such effects, that fear quickly vanished away. On the Feast of St. Paul, while I was hearing Mass, all the most sacred humanity of Christ was represented to me, as it is painted after his resurrection. But with such great beauty and majesty as I once particularly described to your reverence, when you commanded me to do so, I was troubled enough that you're commanding me, for such a thing cannot be done without almost annihilating oneself. But I did what you commanded me as well as I could, and therefore I need not now repeat it again in this place. I only say that if there were nothing else in heaven to delight our sight but the excessive beauty of glorified bodies, the glory would be immense, especially to behold the humanity of Jesus Christ our Lord. And if His Majesty be so great, even when it is represented to us in this world according to that proportion which our misery can bear, what will it be when we shall wholly enjoy and possess such a happiness? This vision, though represented to me by way of a mental image, was never seen by me with the eyes of my body, nor was any other, but only with the eyes of my soul. They who understand these things better than I do, affirm that the former vision, which was purely intellectual, is of a higher and more perfect kind than this, and also that this is much more so than the others, which are seen with corporal eyes. For these latter they say are of the lowest kind, in which the devil can more easily introduce his illusions, though at that time I could not understand any such thing, but rather desired that when I was to receive any favor of this nature, it might be so that I might see it with my corporal eyes, to the end that my confessor might not tell me I only fancied these things. And so it also happened to me as soon as it was passed, and this was in one instant, that I began to think I might perhaps have only fancied the vision. And I was thus somewhat troubled for having told my confessor, thinking whether or no I had deceived him. This was the cause of another trouble, and so I went to him and told him of it. He asked me whether I really thought so, and if I had any desire to deceive him. I told him the truth, because as far as I can judge, I had no wish to tell a lie, nor did I intend to do such a thing, nor would I, for the whole world, have said one thing for another. This he knew very well, and so he did his best to comfort and calm me. But I felt so unwilling to trouble him with these matters, that I know not how the devil could have made me fancy I had feigned anything, or deceived my confessor. This he did to torment me. But our Lord made such haste to show me favors, and to declare this truth, that I was soon free from every doubt whether it were fancy or no, since then I see my folly very clearly. Though I were to employ many years in imagining how I could represent an object so beautiful, I should neither have the power nor the ability to do it. For such a sight exceeds all that can possibly be imagined in this world, by its clearness and brightness alone. It is not a splendor which dazzles, but a sweet luster. It is a brightness infused, which affords an exceeding great pleasure to the sight, and does not tire us. Nor does the light offend, whereby we see this object of such divine beauty. It is a light so different from that of this world, that even the brightness of the sun itself, which we see, is dim in comparison with that light and brightness which are represented to the sight, and hence the eyes can scarcely open themselves to behold it. It is as if we beheld very pure water running upon crystal, with the sun reflecting upon it and striking through it, in comparison with other very muddy water, seen in a cloudy day and running upon an earthy bottom. Not that any sun is represented, nor is that light like the light of the sun. In a word, this light seems a natural light, and the other but an artificial one. This is a light which never sets, and it has no night, but as it is always light, nothing disturbs it. Indeed, it is of such a nature that however sublime the understanding of a person may be, he would never, during all his life, be able properly to conceive what its nature is, and God places it before us so suddenly, that we should not even have time to open our eyes, if that were necessary. But it helps us no more to have them open than shut, whenever our Lord is pleased we should see it, whether we will or know. Nor can any distraction divert us from it, nor any power resistant, nor on the other hand, can any care or diligence procure it, and of this I have had good experience, as I shall mention. But what I wish to relate now is the manner how our Lord shows himself by these visions. I do not say I will explain the manner by which this strong light is able to convey itself into the inward sense, and imprint on the understanding so clear an image, as to make it really appear to be there, because this point belongs to learned men. Our Lord has not been pleased to make me understand the manner thereof, and I am myself so ignorant, and my understanding is so dull, that though many have used great endeavors to explain it to me, I have not yet been able to comprehend the manner thereof. And this is very certain that though your reference may think I possess a quick understanding, I do not. For in many things, I have found what I say to be true by experience, these, that it comprehends no more than what is given it to eat, as the saying is. Sometimes my confessor was amazed at my ignorance, and he never made me understand, nor did I desire to know how God did this, or how this could be. Neither did I ask him about it, though as I have already mentioned, I consulted for several years many learned men, to know whether this or that were a sin or no. But as for the rest, I only had occasion to remember that God does everything, and that I was not to wonder at his works, but only to praise him. And thus my devotion was rather excited by difficulties, and the more difficulties the more devotion I had. I will now mention what I have learned by experience, these, how our Lord does this. Your reverence, however, will express it better, and will explain all that may be obscure, and which I know not how to explain. It seemed to me on certain occasions to be an image which I saw, but on other occasions it was not so. It was Christ himself, judging as I did from the clearness with which he was pleased to manifest himself to me. And yet sometimes it was in so indistinct a way that it seemed to be an image or representation, but very different from those portraits which are made in this world, however perfect they may be, for I have seen some very good ones. It would be foolish to suppose that there is a likeness in any way between them both, for however well a portrait may be taken, it can never equal the natural one, for the one is alive and the other dead. But let us put this aside, though yet the relation of the one to the other holds very well. Still I say not that I make a comparison between Christ our Lord and that which I said I saw, for comparisons never agree so perfectly as these two things did, but the truth is there is the same difference in what I saw from any image. As there is between something which lives and something which is only painted. If then this was an image, it was a living image. And not a dead man, but Christ alive. And I was unable to see him both as God and man, not as he was in the sepulchre, but as he appeared after his resurrection. And sometimes he comes with such a great majesty that no one can doubt of its being our Lord himself, especially after receiving the Blessed Sacrament, for then we know well he is there. Since our faith assures us of it. He then shows himself to be so entirely the master of this my dwelling that the soul seems to be wholly dissolved and consumed in Christ. Oh my Jesus, who can express so as to be understood, the majesty with which thou showest thyself? And how absolutely thou art Lord of the whole universe and of the heavens and of other innumerable worlds and heavens which thou can't create? As the soul understands according to the majesty wherewith thou showest thyself to her, then she knows that all these would be nothing for thee to be Lord of. Here, my sweet Jesus, the soul clearly sees what little power the devils have in comparison with thine, and how he who pleases thee may trample hell entirely under his feet. Here the soul sees the reason the devils had to tremble, when thou disdescend into limbo, and how they would then have wished rather to have been in a thousand other hells lower down, that so they might fly from such great majesty. I see likewise that thou desire is to make our soul understand how great thou art, and the power which thy most sacred humanity possesses, join with thy divinity. Here is well represented what the day of judgment will be, when we shall see the majesty of this king, and behold the rigor he will use against the wicked. Here true humility is fixed in the soul by seeing her own misery, of which she can no longer be ignorant. Here we acquire confusion and true repentance for our sins, so that when she beholds what great love our Lord has shown her, she knows not what to do with herself, but is, as it were, wholly annihilated. I say this kind of vision has such excessive power and strength, when our Lord is pleased to show a soul a considerable portion of his greatness and majesty, that I consider it impossible for anyone to endure it, unless our Lord be pleased to assist the soul in a supernatural manner, by making her remain in a rapture or ecstasy, and so lose the sight of that divine presence by the act of enjoying it. This vision, however, may afterwards be forgotten, and yet it cannot be entirely forgotten, because the divine majesty and beauty are so deeply imprinted in the soul, but only in the case when our Lord is pleased that the soul should suffer dryness and great solitude, of which I shall speak afterwards. Then it seems that one forgets even God himself. The soul is now quite another creature from what she was before, and it seems she has a lively kind of love communicated to her anew, in a much higher degree. For though that other kind of vision I spoke of before, which represents our Lord without any image, be something more sublime in itself, yet in order to make it remain long in our memory, according to our weakness, and to entertain and keep our thoughts well employed, it is very important for us that so divine a presence should also remain imprinted in the imagination. Thus these two kinds of vision always come together, and it is thus that they come, because the excellence and beauty and glory of the most holy humanity of Christ are be held with the eyes of the soul, and by the other way already spoken of, we are unable to comprehend that he is God, and that he is powerful and omnipotent, that he commands and governs all things, and that his love fills everything. This kind of vision should be valued very highly and is, in my opinion, without danger, for it is easily known by the effects that the devil has no power therein. I think, however, that three or four times he wished to represent our Lord himself to me by a false representation, but though he may assume the form of flesh, yet he cannot counterfeit by that glory which is manifest when the vision comes from God, the devil makes certain representations in order to destroy some true vision which the soul has seen, but she resists him as well as she can, though she is so disturbed, disquieted, and disordered, that she loses the devotion and pleasure she had before, and remains without any prayer at all. This happened to me three or four times in the beginning, as I have already mentioned, but this false vision is so different from the other that whosoever has arrived only at the prayer of quiet will, I think, understand the matter by the effects which have been spoken of in the discourse of these words or speeches which are sometimes imprinted on the soul. This is a very certain truth, and unless the soul wish to be deceived, I believe the devil will not be able to deceive her if she walk with humility and simplicity. Whoever receives a true vision from God will from that instantly perceive the nature of another, which is false. And though this false vision may impart a certain pleasure and delight, yet the soul will shake them off, and besides, in my opinion, the pleasure will not be real, nor will it have even the appearance of a love which is pure and chaste, and hence very soon she will discover whence it comes. That all this should be mere imagination is utterly impossible, for the beauty and loveliness of only one hand far surpasses all our imagination. Besides, without our remembering or ever having thought of any such thing, to see objects presented before us in an instant, which could never have been formed by the imagination without a long time, because such things surpass all that we are able to comprehend in this world, this, I repeat, would be impossible. And even if we could do something of this kind, yet it could not be done for any other reason, which I will now mention. If we should be able to represent any such thing by the strength of our understanding, and then it would not produce the great effects which a true vision does, if indeed any at all, it would be like one desirous of going to sleep, and yet he would remain awake because he cannot fall asleep. But if he should wish to sleep and has need of it, and at the same time should have any weakness in the head which prevents sleep, he uses every exertion for this purpose, and sometimes he thinks he succeeds a little. But if, after all, he do not truly and really sleep soundly, he is not refreshed, nor does his head become much better, rather it may sometimes become worse. And so it is in some measure, with regard to this case, for then the soul becomes dizzy. She is no longer strengthened or supported, but rather gets tired and disgusted. But in the other case of which I was speaking, I cannot express what riches are acquired by the soul, and even the body itself becomes healthful and vigorous. These and other reasons I alleged, when I was told these things come from the devil or that I only fancied them, this was often mentioned to me, and I, on the other hand, used to make comparisons as well as I could, and our Lord put them into my mind. But all availed little, for as there were some very holy persons in that place, and I being misery itself in comparison with them, who were not guided by this way, they immediately began to fear that my sins, in all appearance, were the cause of these effects. And so the report went from one to another in such a manner, that many became acquainted with these secrets of mine, though I had mentioned them to no one but my confessor, or to such as he commanded me to mention them. I said to them once, that if they who spoke thus to me should assert, that some person with whom I had just been talking, and whom I knew very well, was not that person, but that I only fancied such a person, I should have more easily believed them than that which I saw. But if this individual left some jewels with me, and they remain still in my hand, as pledges of the great love he bore me, and that now I perceived I was rich, whereas I was very poor before, I should not then be able to believe them, however much I might desire it, especially since I could show these jewels to others, for all who knew me saw clearly that I had become quite another person, and so my confessor also told me, for the difference was very great in every respect, and not feigned, but all could see it very plainly. Having been so wicked before, I used to say I could not believe that if the devil did this to deceive me and send me to hell, he would make use of means very different from these, which had greatly served to root out vices, and to plant in me strength in every virtue, and I perceived very clearly that I soon became by these means quite another creature. My confessor belonged, as I have mentioned, to the society of Jesus, and a very holy man he was, he also made the same answer as I afterwards learnt. He was very discreet and very humble, and yet this humility cost me many troubles, for though he was a learned man and a man of prayer, yet he did not trust in himself, as our Lord did not lead him along this road, he had much trouble with me in several ways. They even wished him to take heed of me, lest the devil might deceive him, by inducing him to believe something of what I told him, and to prove their point, they adduced the examples of other persons. All this gave me trouble enough, for I was afraid I should have no one to hear my confession, but that everyone would fly from me, and so I did nothing but weep. It was a mercy of God that this father still continued to hear me, but he was so great a servant of God, that for his sake he was willing to expose himself to everything, and so he bade me not to offend God, nor to depart from the directions he gave me. He told me also not to fear about his leaving. He always comforted and encouraged me, and commanded me never to conceal anything from him. And should I observe this command, he told me, that though it were the devil, he would not be able to do me any harm, but rather that our Lord would draw good out of the evil which the devil wished to do my soul. He wished to advance me in all things, as well as he could, and I, being in such fear, obeyed him in everything, though imperfectly. He had a great deal of trouble with me for more than three years, during which I confessed to him, in the midst of these afflictions and the great persecutions I underwent, for our Lord allowed people to form a bad opinion of me, and these afflictions came, many of them at least, without any fault of mine, so that I was always coming to the Father, and he was blamed on my account, though he was not in any fault whatever. I think it would have been impossible for him to have endured all these troubles so long, had he not been a man of great sanctity. But our Lord animated him, and enabled him to bear so much, for he had to answer everyone who thought I was a lost soul. But they believed him not, and, on the other hand, he had to calm my mind, and to draw me out of the fear I had, by threatening me with a greater. He had also to satisfy me in another respect, for with regard to every vision which was new, our Lord permitted me afterwards to have great fears. All this came from my having been, and being still so great a sinner. Still, he comforted me with much compassion, and had he followed his own opinion, I should not have suffered so much, for God enabled him to understand the truth in all things, and I believe that the sacrament of penance gave him light to direct me. Those other servants of God, who could not make themselves sure of my being directed by God, often converse with me, and when I used to be carelessly speaking of some things, they would understand them in a different manner. Now one of these I love much, for my soul was exceedingly indebted to him, and he was a very holy man. I was much troubled to see that I could not make myself understood by him, while he, on the other hand, desired my spiritual good with all his heart and soul, and prayed that our Lord would enlighten me. And so when I used to be relating things to them without reflection upon what I said, it seemed to them to be a sign of little humility in me, and when they saw me commit some fault, and they might have noticed many, all condemned me immediately. Sometimes they asked me some questions, and I answered them with candor and even without reflection. Then they thought I wished to teach them, and that I consider myself to be very clever, and accordingly they would go to my confessor to complain, because they certainly wished me well, and he reprimanded me. This lasted a long time, and I was afflicted in many ways, but as I received many favors from our Lord, I was able to endure every trouble. I mentioned all these things that we may understand, what trouble it is not to have a director who is experienced in the ways of the spirit. Hence, if our Lord had not favored me so much as he did, I know not what would have become of me, since there were circumstances sufficient to have deprived me of my senses, and sometimes I saw myself in such a state that I knew not what to do with myself, except to lift up my eyes to our Lord, because the persecution which I endured from good men, and I who was such a weak and wicked poor creature, and also so timorous, may perhaps seem scarcely worth relating, and though during my life I have passed through very great troubles, yet this last I have found to be the most severe I ever experienced. God grant that by this trouble I may have been able to serve His Majesty a little, for I am sure that those who accused and condemned me promoted His service, and all tended to my greater good. End of chapter 28 Chapter 29 of the life of Saint Teresa. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ann Boulet. The Life of Saint Teresa, by Teresa of Jesus, translated by the Reverend John Dalton. Chapter 29 The Saint continues the same subject and mentions certain great favors which our Lord showed her, and what He said to comfort and console her, etc. I have wandered much from my subject in endeavoring to prove that what I have mentioned was not in effect of the imagination. For how should we be able, by any study of our own, to represent the humanity of Christ, and by our imagination to form any idea of such great beauty? For this purpose no little time would be requisite if we wish to represent anything which could in any manner resemble it. In the one case we may well represent it before our imagination and stand looking at it for some time and consider whose shape and complexion and so go on perfecting the image by little and little and impressing it on our memory. For who can take this power from the mind? And this much I am able to do by the strength of my understanding. But in the present case, of which I am speaking, there is no means of doing this, for we must behold it, when and how our Lord is pleased to represent it to us, and as He wishes. Nor can we diminish or add anything, nor use any means for this purpose, however much we may endeavor to do so, either towards our seeing it or for bearing to see it when we wish, and if we should desire to behold any particular object, the sight of Christ is instantly lost. For two years and a half our Lord was very ordinarily pleased to grant me this favor, which for more than three years He has changed for another of a higher kind, as I shall perhaps mention afterwards. And then seeing how He would be speaking to me, while I was beholding His great beauty, and the sweetness with which He uttered those words, with His most lovely and divine mouth, and sometimes with rigor, I had a great desire to see the color of His eyes, and their size and shape, that so I might be able to describe them. But never have I deserved to behold them, nor could I gain my object by any diligence, but rather the vision was then entirely lost. And though sometimes I see He looks upon me with compassion, yet the sight is so overpowering that the soul is not able to endure it, but remains in so high a rapture, that in order to enjoy Him the more completely, she loses this beautiful spectacle. Here it serves to little purpose, either to will or not to will anything, and it is clearly seen that our Lord desires nothing but our humility and confusion, and willingness to take whatever is given us, and to praise Him who gives it. This holds good in all true visions, without exception, these that one can do nothing at all, either for seeing more or less, and that all our diligence is neither able to do nor undo anything, because our Lord wishes us to see very clearly that this is no work of ours, but belongs to His majesty. And hence we are so far from being proud by such favors, that they rather make us more humble and timorous, considering that as our Lord deprives us of the power of seeing what we desire, so he can also take all these favors from us, and his grace too, in such a manner that we may come to be utterly lost. We must therefore always walk in fear, as long as we live in this land of exile. Our Lord has almost always represented Himself to me as risen again, and the same in the Sacred Host, except that sometimes, in order to strengthen me when I am in tribulation, He showed me His wounds, as He was on the cross, or in the garden, and a few times He appeared with His crown of thorns, and at other times carrying His cross. These happened as I have said, only when I was in some trouble, either of my own or from some other persons. But our Lord always appeared in His glorified flesh. By mentioning these things, I have suffered many of friends and vexations, and great persecutions and fears. People were even so certain that I was under the influence of the devil, that some persons wished me to be exercised. This, however, gave me very little trouble. But what I felt the most was, to see my confessors afraid of hearing my confession, or when I came to know that tales were told to them about me. Still, on the whole, I know not how to be sorry for having seen these heavenly visions, nor would I exchange any one of them for all the goods and pleasures of the world, for I always considered these visions to be great favors from our Lord, and I esteemed them as most precious treasures, and our Lord Himself has often assured me of this. I also observed that thereby I began to love our Lord the more, and to Him I went to complain of all my troubles, and always I came forth from prayer both with comfort and with new strength. As to these persons, I did not presume to contradict them, for I saw it made things worse, as they seemed to think it was want of humility. I consulted my confessor, and whenever he found me afflicted, he always consoled me greatly. As my visions began to increase, one of those who used before to assist me, and sometimes hear my confessions when my ordinary confessor was not in the way, began to tell me I was evidently deluded by the devil. He commanded me, since there was no other means of resisting him, always to be crossing and blessing myself when I saw any vision, and to use some sign of scorn, because it was certainly the devil, and by this means he would come no more, and that I need not fear, but that God would preserve me and take him away from me. This command was very painful to me, because, as I could not help believing my prayer came from God, it was a terrible thing for me to use any act of scorn. Neither could I desire these things should be taken away from me. Still, I did all that was commanded me. I earnestly besought our Lord to free me from being deceived, and this I did continually, and with abundance of tears. I also prayed to St. Peter and St. Paul, for as I had the first vision on their festival, our Lord told me that they would take such care of me that I should not be deceived, and accordingly I have often seen very clearly, though not by the way of any imaginary vision, these two glorious saints on my left hand, as my good patrons. But this making of signs of contempt gave me excessive trouble, when I saw this vision of our Lord. For when I saw him present before me, I could not be induced to believe it was the devil, even though I should have been torn in pieces, and therefore it was a severe kind of penance. But in order that I might not be so perpetually blessing myself, I took a cross in my hands, and this I did almost always. But I did not use the signs of scorn so often, for this would have afflicted me too much, for I remembered the injuries the Jews inflicted on our Lord, and so I besought him to pardon me, since I acted in obedience to those whom he had appointed in his own place, and not to blame me, since they were the ministers whom he had placed in his church. He told me not to be troubled at this, and that I did well in obeying them, and that he would make them understand the truth. But when they forbade me the use of mental prayer, our Lord appeared angry at it, and told me to tell them, this was tyranny. He also gave me reasons to understand that I was not deceived by the devil, as I shall relate afterwards. When I once was holding the cross in my hand, which was at the end of my rosary, he took it into his hands, and when he returned it to me, it consisted of four great stones, incomparably more precious than diamonds, for there is nothing here below that can equal the supernatural. A diamond is but an imperfect kind of stone in comparison with those precious stones seen here. They had on them the five wounds in a most curious manner, and our Lord told me I should see him just in that way henceforth, and so I did. And now I no longer saw the matter of which the cross was made, but only these precious stones. No one saw them so but myself. When I was commanded to make these trials and to resist the favors, they increased much more, and though I should wish to turn my attention to something else, yet I never omitted prayer. Nay, it seems that I was in prayer even while I was asleep, for here the love of our Lord was much increased, and I would then be uttering amorous complaints to him. Nor was it in my power, though I had desired it, and least of all when I endeavored, to leave off thinking of him. Still I obeyed as well as I could, though I was able to do little or nothing therein. Our Lord never freed me from obeying them, but though he commanded me to do as they bade, he gave me confidence on the other side and taught me what I should say to them, and this he does now, giving me such convincing reasons as to make me wholly secure. Not long after this, his majesty began to perform what he had been pleased to promise me before. To assure me more strongly that it was he, for there grew in me so great a love for God that I knew not who infused it into me, for it was of a very supernatural kind. Nor did I procure it. I found myself dying through a desire of seeing God, and knew not how or where to seek or find this life, but by the way of death. There came upon me such great impestuousities of this love, that I knew not what to do with myself, though they were not so insupportable, nor of such value as those I have mentioned in another place, for nothing could satisfy me. Nor was I able to contain myself, but rather it seemed as if my soul were really torn from my body. Oh admirable artifice of our Lord, what delicate industry does thou use with this miserable slave of thine? Thou dis-hide thyself from me, and yet even then thou dis-press upon me by thy love, bringing me such a sweet kind of death, as the soul would never wish to be free from. Whoever has not experienced these great impestuousities cannot understand them, for this is not a kind of restlessness of the breast, nor like certain devotions which sometimes are want to choke the soul, so that she can hardly contain herself. This is a more inferior kind of prayer, and therein we must endeavor to remove these impestuousities, by striving with sweetness to make them recollected within themselves, so as to calm the soul. It is something like when little children cry so much as to seem to be choking, and when they have something to drink, then their excessive weeping ceases. And so in this case also, reason should take the bridle in the hand, for perhaps the very natural constitution of the person himself may be the thing, which in some degree contributes to this state of mind. And therefore let consideration be used, for fearless all should not be perfect, and the greater part might prove to have something sensual in it. And let this child be stilled by some caress of love, which may induce the soul to love by a gentle and sweet kind of way, and not by blows as the saying is. This love should be kept recollected within, and not be like a pot which is suffered to boil over, because wood is piled on the fire without discretion. They should rather slake and appease the flame which is fed by this vehement fire with sweet and gentle tears, but not with such as are forced or painful, as they are want to be which proceed from those sediments I spoke of before, and which do much harm. Such I myself had in the beginning, and they always left my head so disordered, and my soul so wearied, that sometimes I was not able for several days to return to the exercise of prayer. We should therefore use great discretion at the beginning, in order that everything may go on with sweetness, and the soul may be taught the way of exercising herself interiorly. We must also endeavor as much as we can that the exterior may be avoided. Those other impestuousities and impulses are of a very different kind. For here it is not we who lay the wood, but the fire seems to be made quite ready to our hands, and we are instantly ready to cast ourselves into it, that so we may be consumed. The soul does not endeavor to make herself feel the wound, which is made in her by the absence of our Lord, but they sometimes drive an arrow into the very inmost part of the heart, so that the soul knows not what is the matter nor what she desires, though she understands very well that she desires and loves God, and that this same arrow seems to be touched and rubbed over with some herb to make her abhor herself for the love of this Lord. She would willingly lose her life for his sake. It is not in our power to express or relate the manner whereby God approaches such a soul, or the excessive pain it causes, which makes her not know what to do with herself. But yet this pain is so sweet that there is nothing in this life which can give her so much delight. As I have said, the soul would be glad to be always dying of this disease. This pain and joy together did so distract me that I knew not how they both could possibly subsist. Oh, what a thing it is to see a soul so wounded! It is just in such a way that we may well say she is wounded, and this for a very excellent reason, for she sees very clearly that she herself did contribute nothing whereby this love could come, but only that it seems some spark suddenly falls down upon her. From that immense love our Lord has for her, which sets her all on fire. Oh, how often, when I am in this state, do I remember these words of David? As the heart panteth after the fountains of water, so my soul panteth after thee, my God! Psalm 41 Me thinks that then these words are literally fulfilled in me. Whenever this feeling does come on me violently, it seems to me that I can appease it a little. At least the soul endeavors to find some remedy, for she knows not what to do by the performance of certain penances, but they are felt by her no more, nor does it put her to any more pain to shed her blood than if the body were dead. She seeks modes and ways to do something whereby she may suffer for the love of God, but so great is her former grief which she feels that I know not of any corporal torment which can remove it. For the remedy thereof does not consist in any such things, since these medicines are too mean for so spiritual a malady. The soul indeed finds some little ease by these means, and by begging the remedy of her misery at the hands of God, though none she sees but death, for by this she hopes entirely to enjoy her sovereign good. At other times, this pain afflicts the soul so severely that neither this nor anything else can be done, for it pierces the body through and through, and she can stern neither her feet nor her hands. Nay, even if she were standing, she feels like one transported, for she cannot so much as breathe. She utters only sighs, not great in outward appearance, because she cannot express them, but they are deep interiorly. Our Lord was pleased that I should sometimes have the following vision. I saw an angel very near me on my left side in a corporeal form, which is not usual with me. For though angels are often represented to me, yet it is without my seeing them, except by that kind of vision of which I have already spoken. But in this vision, our Lord was pleased that I should see the angel in this form. He was not tall, but rather little, and very beautiful. His face was so inflamed that he seemed to be one of those glorious spirits who appeared to be all on fire with divine love. He might be one of those who are called Seraphim, for they do not tell their names, but I see clearly that in heaven there is so great a difference between some angels and others that I am not able to express it. I saw that he had a long golden dart in his hand, and at the point there seemed to me to be a little fire. I thought that he pierced my heart with his dart several times, and in such a manner that it went through my very bowels, and when he withdrew it, it seemed as if my bowels came with it, and I remained wholly inflamed with a great love of God. The pain thereof was so intense that it forced deep groans from me, but the sweetness which this extreme pain caused in me was so excessive that there was no desiring to be free from it. Nor is the soul then content with anything less than God. This is not a corporal, but a spiritual pain, though the body does not fail to participate a little in it. Yay, a great deal! It is so delightful an intercourse between the soul and God that I beseech his goodness to give some taste of it to him who may imagine I do not tell the truth. During this time I was in this state, I went up and down like one transported. I wished neither to see nor to speak, but only to be consumed by my pain, which was a greater happiness for me than any that can be found in creatures. In this state I continued some time, when our Lord was pleased I should fall into such great raptures, that I was not able to resist them, even in the presence of secular persons. And so to my great grief they began to be public. But from the time I began to have these raptures, I have not felt this pain so much as that other of which I spoke before, though I cannot call to mind the particular chapter. But that pain is different in many respects and more valuable than this. Then it seems as if our Lord forcibly carries away the soul and puts her in an ecstasy, so that there is no room for feeling any pain because the enjoyment comes immediately. May he be blessed forever, who bestows such high favors on one who corresponds so little with such great benefits.