 Chapter 20 The Saint Treats of the Difference which exists between union and rapture, etc. I should be glad to know how to explain, by the divine assistance, the difference there is between union and rapture, or as it is called, elevation of the soul, for these mean one in the same thing. It is also called an ecstasy. The names are different but they signify one in the same thing. The advantage arising from rapture is very great. The effects likewise, as well as many other operations which it produces, are much greater. For union seems to be the same both in the beginning, in the middle and in the end, and it takes place in the interior. But as a rapture is an elevation of the soul in a much higher degree, it produces effects both interior and exterior. May our Lord enable me to explain this part of the subject as he has assisted me in the rest. For certainly, if His Majesty had not made me understand, by what means and in what manner it might be done, I should not have been able to say anything. Let us now consider that this last water, of which I have been speaking, is so very plentiful and abundant, that if we were capable of receiving it, we should believe the cloud of that divine Majesty were with us, which waters our soul here upon earth. And thus, when we are grateful to our Lord for this great blessing, and acknowledge our gratitude by our good works, according to our strength, our Lord attracts that soul just in the same way as the clouds attract the vapors from the earth, and mount up towards heaven. And so he takes the soul along with himself, and begins to show her the riches of that kingdom which he has prepared for her. I know not if the comparison be just and suitable, but this happens truly and really. In these raptures, it seems as if the soul did not animate the body. It feels very sensibly the wants of natural heat, and becomes cold, though possessing the greatest sweetness and delight. Here there is no means of resisting, though in union, being then in our own country, there is a remedy, and so we may almost always resist, though not without pain and using some violence. But here, for the most part, there is no remedy at all, for very often the rapture happens without our thinking of it, or employing any means of bringing it on. And then there comes a quick and strong impestuousity, that you see and feel this cloud raising itself up, or rather, this strong eagle carries you away between her wings. And this is understood, for you know you are carried away, though you know not wither, because though you may feel delight, yet so great is the weakness of our nature that it makes us fear at first. Hence it will be necessary for the soul to be much more determined and courageous than she was when in the degree of union, in order to be able to hazard everything, and to abandon herself entirely into the hands of God, and willingly to go wheresoever she shall be carried, though they will take her whether willing or no. Sometimes the rapture is so great that very very often I wish to resist, and employ all my strength for this object, especially when the raptures happen in public, and many other times also when they were private, fearing lest I might be deluded. Sometimes I was able to make a slight resistance, but it cost me great trouble, for it seemed like one fighting with a strong giant, so that afterwards I found myself very tired, and at other times it was impossible to resist, for my soul was carried quite away, and generally even my head, and sometimes my whole body, were raised from the ground. This last happened but seldom. It happened once, however, when we were all together in the choir, and when I was on my knees, being then about to receive the blessed sacrament. I was exceedingly troubled there at, and as it seemed to me to be a very extraordinary circumstance, and that great notice might be immediately taken of it, I commanded the nuns not to speak of it, and this I did because I then held the office of priores. But at other times, when I began to see that our Lord was about to do the same again, once in particular, during a sermon, being the feast of our patron, and in the presence of many ladies of quality, I cast myself on the ground. And though the religious came and kept my body down, yet the rapture was easily perceived. I accordingly besought our Lord that he would no more grant me such favors as would bear exterior demonstrations, because I was already very weary by being so watchful over myself, and his majesty could not bestow such favors upon me without their being known. And it seems that, through his goodness, he has heard my prayer, for since that time I have had no raptures of the kind, though it is not long since the last happened. But when I wished to resist, there seemed to be something under my feet of such great strength that I know not what to compare it to, and it came with much greater impestuousity than any other thing which I ever experienced in my soul. Hence I was torn, as it were, to pieces, because the combat is terrible. In a word, all my resistance was of little use, because when our Lord wishes to do anything, no power can stand against him. At other times, he is pleased to contend himself with letting us see that he desires to do us this favor, and that it only remains for us to receive it from his majesty. And when we resist for the sake of humility, the same effects follow, as if we had entirely consented. These effects are very great. First, the great power of our Lord is made manifest thereby. Second, that when his majesty wishes, we are as little able to detain our bodies as our souls. That we are not masters of them, but that there is a superior by whom all these favors are given, and that, being nothing ourselves, we can do nothing. These considerations fill us with deep humility, and I acknowledge that these raptures excited in me a great fear. And at the beginning I was extremely terrified to see a body raise from the earth. For though it is the spirit which draws it after her, and this with great feelings of delight if no resistance be made, yet we do not lose our senses. At least I had mine in such a manner that I was able to understand I had been raised up. There also appears so great a majesty in him who can do this, that it makes even the hair of one's head stand on end, and there remains a great fear of offending so mighty a God. This fear, however, is accompanied by an exceedingly great love, which the soul conceives again for him, who she sees bears so deep a love for such a wretched worm, for he seems not content with really drawing the soul to himself, but he wishes to draw the body also, even when it is mortal and composed of such filthy dust as we have made it by our sins. This also leaves in the soul a particular disengagement from all things in the world, that I cannot explain what it is. I think, however, I may say, that it is not only in some degree a different, but also a much greater kind of favor than any of those other things which act on the soul alone. For though in those other visitations there is also, as far as relates to the soul, a total disengagement from the things of this world, yet here, it seems, our Lord is pleased that even the body itself should act in the same manner. It likewise excites such a new aversion to the pleasures of this life, that it makes life itself much more painful to us. It afterwards gives another pain, which we can neither procure when we have it not, nor free ourselves from it when we have it. I should be very glad to be able to make this great pain understood, but I think I shall not be able, still, I will say something if I can. I must remark that these things now happen at the very last. After all those visions and revelations were of, I shall write. And during the time when I am in prayer, when our Lord is accustomed to give me very great sweetness and caresses. And though I sometimes continue to experience the same sweetness, yet the pain of which I shall now speak comes upon me much more frequently. It is sometimes less and sometimes greater. I now wish to speak of the greater, because though I shall treat hereafter of those great impestuosities which I experienced. When our Lord was pleased to give me those raptures, yet, in my opinion, there was as little resemblance between them as there is between things spiritual and corporal. I believe I do not at all exaggerate the matter, because this pain seems to be such that the soul feels it, yet she feels it together with the body, and so both of them share in it. But she feels not that extremity of abandonment which this pain causes, and in which, as I have already mentioned, we have no part ourselves. But there often comes unexpectedly a kind of transport, the cause of which I know not. And this transport, which penetrates the whole soul in an instant, begins to agitate the soul to such a degree, that she rises above herself in all created things. And God makes her so disgusted with them, that however much she may strive, she cannot find on earth any creature for a companion. And even if she could, she would prefer to die in that solitude. If people speak to her, or if she employed all the power which she could possibly possess in speaking to others, it would be of little use. For her spirit, however much she may strive, is still attached to that solitude. And though it seems to me, as if God were there at a very great distance from her, yet at times he communicates his greatness to her, in a manner the most extraordinary that can be imagined or expressed. And I think that he only can believe or understand it who has experienced it himself, for it is no communication to give comfort, but only to show the reason which he has to be afflicted, on account of being absent from that good which comprehends all good. By means of this communication, the desire increases of remaining in that extreme solitude in which the soul finds herself, together with a pain which is so very acute and penetrating, that she may then, I think, be placed in this desert, literally make use of these words. I have watched and become as a sparrow all alone on the housetop. These words the royal prophet, perhaps, spoke when he was in the same solitude. But being a saint, our Lord made him feel them in a more sensible manner. This verse comes into my mind, because it seems as if I see myself in it. And I am consoled in seeing that other persons also have found themselves in such great solitude, and the greatest saints more than anyone else. And thus it appears that the soul in this state is raised, not only above all created things, but even above herself. At other times, the soul seems to find herself in the very extremity of misery, asking herself this question, Where is thy God? I must remark, that I did not understand the meaning of these words in the Psalms. But after they were explained to me, I was much comforted in seeing that our Lord brought them to my memory, without any endeavor on my part. At other times, I remembered the words of Saint Paul, that he was crucified to the world. I say not that I was crucified, for I see clearly I am not. But it seems to me that the soul in this case is, as it were, crucified, and suspended between earth and heaven. And hence no comfort comes from heaven, because she is not there, nor from earth, because she is no longer upon it. And she suffers all the time, without receiving any sucker from either place. That which does come to her from heaven is so great a knowledge of God, that she loses herself in the contemplation of his infinite greatness. And this knowledge increases rather than diminishes her pain, because her desire of possessing him increases in such a manner, that in my opinion, the excess of pain sometimes takes away her senses. But she remains without them only a little while. This state seems to be the very agony of death itself, and yet it is accompanied with such a great pleasure and content in suffering, that I know not what to compare it to. It is a sharp and yet a delightful kind of martyrdom, since everything relating to this world which can possibly be represented to the soul, even though it were the most delightful object, is on no account admitted, but rather it is immediately cast away from her. She understands well, that she cares for nothing but for her God, and yet she loves in him no particular perfection, but all his perfections together. Still, she knows not what she wishes or desires. I say she knows not, because her imagination represents nothing to her, and during all the time she remains in this state, the powers of the soul do not, in my opinion, produce that joy which is felt in union and rapture. The pain entirely suspends them. Oh, that I were able to make your reverence understand what I have been saying. Even were it only for the object of your telling me what the state is in which the soul finds herself, for this is the condition in which my soul generally remains. When she is not occupied, she then falls into these agonies of death, and she is afraid when she sees them begin, lest she might die under them. But yet, when once begun, she would be glad to remain in the suffering state. During all the time of her life, though the pain is so very excessive that the person is scarce able to endure it. Sometimes I am almost without any pulse at all, as my sisters tell me when they come to see what is the matter, for now they understand a little more about me, and the bones of my very arms are quite exposed, and my hands become so stiff that sometimes I cannot close them, and thus the pain remains in my wrist till the next day, and in my whole body also in such a manner that it seems as if I had been disjointed. Sometimes I think, if I continue in this state, that our Lord will be pleased to end it by my life coming to an end, for, in my opinion, so great suffering is sufficient for this object, except only that I do not deserve such a happiness. All my desire then is to die, I neither remember purgatory, nor those great sins I have committed, for which I deserve hell. All is forgotten through my desire of seeing God, and the desert and solitude then appear to me far sweeter than all the society of the whole world. If anything could give her comfort, it would be to converse with someone who had experienced the same torment, for now, though she complains thereof, no one it seems will believe her. The extremity of this pain also contributes to her torment, since she neither wishes for solitude as others do, nor for any company, except for those persons to whom she might be able to complain. It is with her as with one who has a halter about his neck, and who, while he is strangling, endeavors to take his breath, and thus does this desire for company seem to me to be the effect of our natural weakness. And as this pain puts us in danger of death, that such is the effect is certain, for sometimes I have seen myself in this danger, through my great infirmities and other occasions which I have mentioned, and I think I may say that this danger is as great as all the rest. So the desire which both body and soul have not to be separated, is that which asks the help of taking breath, and by expressing the desire and complaining and diverting itself, it seeks for some means of living, though much against the will of the spirit, or of the superior part of the soul, which does not wish to be free from this pain. I know not if I am correct in what I say, or if I know how to speak, but to the best of my judgment, this is the state of the soul. Your reverence may now see what kind of ease I can enjoy in this life, since that which I used to find in prayer and solitude, for therein our Lord consoled me much, is now changed into this torment, and yet it is so delicious, and the soul sees it to be of such value, that she now delights in it more than in all those other caresses she used to enjoy. It seems to her more secure, because it is the way of the cross, and it possesses in itself a pleasure of great value also, in my opinion, because she allows the body nothing but pain, and the soul is that which suffers, and which alone feels the joy and content which this suffering gives her. I know not how all this can be, but yet it is so, and I would not change this favor which our Lord bestows upon me, which comes from his hand, as I have said, and is in no way acquired by me, because it is entirely supernatural. For all those others which I shall afterwards speak of, I say not for all of them together, but for any one of them taken separately. With regard to these impestuousities, it must be remembered that they happen after those favors which our Lord first bestowed upon me, and also after all that wear of I shall make mention in this book, and likewise after having received that favor which our Lord now gives me. As I was in some fear at the beginning, and this happens almost always when our Lord does me any favor, until as I proceed I receive some security from his majesty. He told me not to fear, but to esteem this favor greater than all the others he had bestowed upon me, because the soul was purified by this pain, and was burnished and refined, as gold was in the crucible. That so she might be better prepared for receiving the enamels of his gifts, and that being purified here, she might have the less to suffer in purgatory. I knew well that this was a great favor, but after this I enjoyed much more security, and my confessor also tells me that it is good, and though I was formerly afraid, yet because I am so wicked, I could never believe it was bad, but rather, the very greatness of the benefit gave me a certain fear, when I remembered how far I was from deserving it. Blessed be the Lord who is so good. Amen. I think I have wandered from my subject, for I began by speaking of raptures, but what I have just been speaking of is much greater than raptures, and so it leaves those effects in the soul, which I have been relating. I will now speak of these raptures, and of that which usually happens therein. I wish to mention then, how the rapture often left my body so light, that all the weight thereof was taken away, and sometimes to such a degree, that I hardly knew how to set my feet on the ground. But when the soul is in a rapture, the body remains as it were dead, being often unable to do anything at all of herself. And as it happens to be at the time, so it remains, whether it be in a sitting posture, or whether the hands be opened or closed, for though she loses her senses a few times, and the same has happened to me now and then, yet they have been seldom entirely lost, and then only for a short time. The usual effect is, that she is disturbed a little, and though she can do nothing of herself, as far as regards the exterior, yet she is able to both understand and to hear, as if something were spoken to her from far off. I say not that she understands and hears when she is in the very height of her rapture. I use the words, the very height, at that time when the faculties are lost, because they are very closely united with God. And then, in my opinion, she neither sees nor hears. But as I mentioned in the former prayer of union, this total transformation of the soul into God continues only for a short time. But as long as it lasts, no power of the soul either feels or knows what passes there. And it seems to be for this object, that as long as we live in this world, it is not God's will we should understand what passes there, because we are not capable of understanding it. At least, I myself have experienced this. But your reverence will perhaps ask me, how is it that rapture should sometimes last so many hours? I answer, that what happened to me very often, as I have mentioned in the former prayer, is this. That we enjoy raptures only by intervals, and the soul often engulfs herself. Or rather, to speak more correctly, our Lord engulfs the soul in himself. And as he keeps her there for a while, there remains only her will which she can make use of. As to the exercise of those other two powers, it seems to me to be like that of a needle on a sundial, which never stands still. But yet, when the Son of Justice wishes, he makes them stop. This I say lasts but for a short time. As however, the impulse and exultation of the spirit were great, the will remains engulfed, and acts like a sovereign lady over all the operations of the body, because those other two restless powers wish to disturb her. The senses however, do not disturb her. And thus they also are suspended because our Lord is so pleased. The eyes too are mostly shut, though we may not wish to shut them. And if sometimes they be open, yet as I have already mentioned, the soul does not consider nor advert to what she sees. The body is now much less able to do anything of herself. And even after the three powers have been united, it can do but little. Let him therefore, to whom our Lord shall grant this favor, not be astonished when he sees the body so weak for many hours, and his memory and understanding sometimes so apt to wander. True it is that souls are ordinarily, in this state, drowned in the praises of God. And in desiring to comprehend or understand what has taken place in them. And even for this object they are not wholly awake. But like a person who has slept and dreamt a great deal, and is not yet quite awake, I have thus explained myself at some length, because I know there are persons at this time, and even in this place, on whom our Lord has bestowed these favors. And if those who direct these religious have not experienced in these matters, they will perhaps think, especially if they be not learned, that in these raptures the persons are as it were dead. It is a subject of grief to consider how much one suffers from such confessors who do not understand these matters, as I shall afterwards mention. Perhaps I know not what I say, but your reverence will understand if I should say anything to the purpose, since our Lord has already given you experience herein. Though as it is not long since you began, you may not perhaps have considered the subject so much as I have. But though I endeavored to do so very often, and to the best of my power, yet the body has not strength enough to stir itself, for the soul takes all its strength away with her. Thus a sick person often recovers his health, and she who was full of weakness and pain regains her strength, because great favors are given in this state. And sometimes, as I was saying, our Lord is pleased that the body should experience a certain degree of joy, because it obeys what the soul desires. When she has returned to herself, it may happen, if the rapture has been great, that she will go for a day or two, or even for three days, with the powers so absorbed, and as it were engulfed in God, that she seems out of herself. But in this state she feels it painful to be still obliged to live in the world. For now, having lost her weak feathers, others have come strong enough to enable her to fly well. Now the banner of Christ is so directly unfurled, that there seems to remain nothing more but that the captain of this fort may either ascend himself, or be carried up to the highest tower, there to plant this standard for the glory of God. She now looks upon those who are below as one who is already in safety. For so far she is from fearing danger, that she rather wishes it, like one for whom victory is secured in a most certain manner. Now she sees very clearly how little all worldly things ought to be esteemed, and what a nothing they are. He who is in a high place sees many things. Now she does not wish to have any other will but the will of our Lord, and she gives him the keys of hers. From being a gardener, she has now become a governor. She wishes to do nothing but the will of God. Nor does she desire to be the governor herself, nor indeed of anything, not even of a single well in this garden. And if there be anything good in it, she wishes his majesty to divide the fruits thereof. For from that time forward, she desires nothing of her own, but only that all things may be done in conformity with his will and for his glory. Nothing happens in this way truly and really, if the raptures be real, and the soul enjoys the effects and advantages which I have mentioned. But if such are not the effects, I should doubt much whether the raptures come from God, but should rather be inclined to fear they were of that kind of ravings whereof Saint Vincent speaks. This I know, and through experience I have seen that here the soul remains a queen over all things, and acquires in less than an hour so much liberty, that she is not able to know herself. But yet she knows well all this is not her own. Nor does she know how she came to obtain so great a blessing. Still she understands clearly the exceeding great advantage which every one of these raptures brings with it. No one can believe all this but he who has experienced it himself. And therefore men cannot believe that a poor soul, which they knew was before so wicked, can so soon undertake to do such wonderful things. Because she immediately resolves not to be content with serving our Lord in small things, but to serve him in most difficult matters also. But men are apt to imagine that such resolutions are only temptations and foolishness. But if they would consider that they come not from herself, but from our Lord, to whom she has already given up the keys of her will, they would not wonder so much at it. I am of opinion, that a soul which arrives at this state neither says nor does anything of herself, but this sovereign king takes care of everything which is to be done. Oh my God, how clearly does a soul see here the meaning of that verse? Who will give me the wings of a dove? The prophet David had reason to make this request, and so have we all. That flight is clearly meant which the soul takes, in order to raise herself above all creatures, and before all things above herself. But this flight is sweet. It is a pleasant flight, and a flight without noise. What dominion does such a soul possess, which our Lord conducts to this degree, that she looks down upon all things without being entangled by them? How full of confusion is she for the time in which she was entangled by them? How astonished at her blindness? How full of compassion for those who still remain in this blindness, especially if they be people of prayer, and such as God is pleased to caress? She desires to cry aloud. That so all may understand how much they have been deceived, and this she does sometimes, and then men pour down upon her head a thousand persecutions. They treat her as having but little humility, and as one who wishes to teach those from whom she ought rather to learn, especially if she be a woman, then they condemn her, and perhaps they have reason for so doing, because they know not by what impulse she is moved. But as she knows not how to help herself on the one hand, so on the other she cannot for bear un-deceiving those persons whom she loves, and whom she desires to behold free from the prison of this life. For the state wherein she was seems neither more nor less than a prison. She is much afflicted at the thought of that time in which she attended to points of honor, and for the error and deceit into which she fell, by believing that to be honor which the world calls honor. She sees that it is a very gross lie, and that all men live in the practice of it. But now she understands that real honor is not false, but true, and she esteems that to be worth something which indeed is so, and considers that to be nothing which is in reality so. Since all is nothing and less than nothing, which will one day have an end, and because it does not please God. She laughs at herself for any time in which she made any account of money, and had a desire for it. Though in this particular I do not believe, and this is the truth, that I ever had any fault to confess. But it would have been a fault to have esteemed or desired money in any way. If by means of it I could have purchased those blessings which I now see in myself, I might have valued it very much. But the soul now perceives that such blessings are purchased best by leaving all things. And what is that which can be purchased by this money which men so much desire? Is it anything of value, anything durable, and for what object do we desire it? A miserable repose is purchased, and dearly does it cost us. For often do we purchase hell by it, endless torments and everlasting fire. Oh, that all men then would resolve to consider it as earth which is good for nothing. In what harmony would the world then move? How free from unjust contracts? In what friendship would all men live, if they would not hanker after honors or riches? In that case I think every evil would be remedied. The soul also sees that there is great blindness respecting the delights of this world, and that by them nothing is purchased, even for this life, but trouble and affliction. What trouble and what little pleasure? What labor in vain? Here she perceives not only the cobwebs of her soul, that is, her great faults, but even the smallest grain of dust, because the sun is very bright. And so, however much the soul may have labored to perfect herself, if this same sun should truly strike her with its beams, then she sees how dusty everything is. It is like a glass full of water, which you think to be very pure and clear, if the sun do not shine upon it. But when the sun does shine, you find it to be all full of animal kule. This comparison is literally true. For before the soul is in this ecstasy, she thinks that she has been very careful not to offend God, and that she endeavored to do so to the best of her power. But when she has arrived so far, that this Son of Justice makes her open her eyes, then she sees so many motes in them that she would be glad to shut them again. For she has not yet become so strong. Like the courageous eagle which bred her, as steadily to fix her eyes on this sun. But however little she may open them, she sees herself covered within perfections, and then she remembers the verse, Who shall be pure in thy sight? When she beholds this divine sun, she is dazzled by the brightness thereof. But when she looks upon herself, her eyes are stopped up with clay, and so this little dove is blind. And sometimes it happens that she remains entirely blind, being absorbed, amazed, and as it were out of herself, at all the greatness that she beholds. Here true humility is acquired, for she cares not either about speaking well of herself, or about others doing it. She wishes our Lord and not herself to divide the fruits of the garden, and so nothing sticks to her fingers. All the good that she has is directed and referred to God, and if she should say anything of herself, it is for his glory, for she knows that she has nothing of her own. Of this she cannot be ignorant, even if she would, because she knows it by the very sight of her eyes, which are shut to the things of this world, but open for understanding the truth, whether she is willing or no. End of CHAPTER XXI I will now finish what I was saying, these, that here the soul has no occasion to give any fresh consent, since she has already given it, and she knows that she has willingly delivered herself into his hands, and that she cannot deceive him who knows all things. It is not as things are in this world, which is full of deceit and duplicity. For when you think you have fully gained the good will of anyone, by the proofs he gives, you soon discover that it is all pretence and falsehood, so that no one knows how to live in the world so deceitfully, especially when self-interest is concerned. Blessed is that soul to which our Lord gives the knowledge of the truth. What a blessing this would be for kings, and how much more profitable for them than to rule great provinces. What justice would be found in the kingdom? How many evils would be avoided, both now and hereafter? Here there is no fear of losing life or honor for the love of God, rather would such losses be considered as great blessings by those who have more regard for the glory of God, than for those to whom they are less obliged. For kings are those whom men follow. The prospect of extending the faith, and of enlightening the minds of heretics, ought to induce kings to lose a thousand kingdoms, for the sake of gaining a kingdom that will never end. And when a soul comes to taste but a single drop of its heavenly water, everything in this world will appear disgusting to her. And when a soul shall be entirely engulfed in this ocean of happiness, what joy will be hers? O Lord, if Thou shouldest raise me to such a state that I could proclaim aloud this truth, men would believe me no more than they do others, who know how to publish this truth much better than I do. But I should at least give satisfaction to myself. It seems to me, however, that I should esteem my life but little, on condition that I could make one of these truths well understood, and yet I know not what I should do afterwards, for there is no trust to be placed in me. But though I am such a miserable creature, still I feel such great impulses to declare these truths to those who are in authority, that I am almost consumed thereby. And now, since I can do no more, I turn to thee, O my Lord, to seek a remedy for all my evils. Thou know as well how willingly I would deprive myself of all the favors thou hast bestowed upon me, provided I might still be in a condition of never offending God. And give them up to kings and princes, for then I know it would be quite impossible for them, either to consent that those things should be done which are now permitted, or that they would fail to receive extraordinary favors from thy hands. Oh my God, make them understand what these duties are, since thou were pleased to honor them in such a manner on earth, that I have heard there were signs in the heavens when they died. When I think of this it excites devotion in me, and mayest thou be pleased, O my King, to make them hereby understand that they ought to imitate thee in their life, since there are in some manner signs in the heavens at their death, as there were at thine own death. I am presuming to say too much, and your reverence may tear in pieces what I am writing if I do not speak properly. Believe me, I would be glad to speak better if I were in their presence, and if I knew how, and especially if I thought they would believe me, for I frequently recommend them to God, and I wish to do them good. He who ventures his life may do anything, and I often desire to lose mine, and that would be venturing little to gain so much, because we cannot live in this world when we see with our own eyes the great error and blindness in which men walk. When a soul has arrived at this state, she has not mere desires for the glory of God. His majesty gives her strength to execute them also. No difficulty can be imagined which she would not willingly embrace, provided she could serve him thereby, and she thinks she does nothing, because everything which does please God appears to her to be a mere nothing. But my grief is that these occasions of serving him are not offered to those who are as useless as I am. But be thou, O pleased, O my eternal good, that some time may come wherein I shall be able to repay thee, even but a trifle, for all that I owe thee. Order things as thou pleases, provided this servant may be able to serve thee in something. There have been other women who have performed heroic actions for the love of thee, but I am good for nothing but to talk, and so it is not thy will that I should act. But that all the service I am to do for thee is to consist in words and desires, and even in these I have not liberty, because I might perhaps fail in every duty. Strengthen my soul and dispose of it first, O thou author of all blessings, my Jesus, and then ordain things in such a way that I may be able to do something for thee, and that no one in the world may endure to have received so much, and yet to have returned so little. No matter what it costs, O Lord, let my hands appear so empty in thy presence. As according to our works, so shall we be rewarded. Behold, here is my life, here is my honor, here is my will. I have given all to thee, I am yours, and dispose of me as thou pleases. I know well, O Lord, how little I am able to do, but having now come to thee, having reached that tower where so many truths are discovered, there is nothing which I shall not be able to perform, if thou depart not from me. But if thou withdraw thyself, however little, I shall find myself where I once was, on the road to hell. Oh, what an affliction it is for a soul, who sees herself in this state, to be obliged to return and converse with the world, and to behold the farce of this life so badly acted and arranged, to be forced to spend so much time in the things of the body, and sleeping any eating. All this wearies the soul, which knows not how to escape from thence, for she finds herself a captive in chains. She then feels more sensibly the captivity we endure by means of our bodies, and also the misery of this life. Then she understands what reason St. Paul had in beseeching God to free him from the body of this death. As I have said before, the soul cries aloud with him, and begs liberty from God. But this is often done with such great impestuousity, that the soul seems desirous of leaping from the body in search of this liberty, and as she cannot be freed, she seems like one souled as a slave in a strange land. But that which afflicts her the most is, that she cannot find many to lament with her, and to desire what she desires, for they generally desire to live. Oh, that we were not tied to anything, and that we did not place our happiness in the pleasures of this world. Then would the pain we might feel of always living without God temper the fear of death through the desire of enjoying eternal life. Sometimes when I am considering how such a creature as I am, to whom our Lord has given this light, and though possessing such imperfect charity, and so little true repose, because my actions have deserved no better, should yet often feel so much pain in seeing myself in this land of exile, then I ask myself, what must have been the feelings and sentiments of the saints? What must St. Paul and St. Mary Magdalene and others like them have felt, in whom the fire of divine love burnt so brightly? It must have been a continual martyrdom for them. It seems that no one could give me greater comfort and ease than to converse with those persons in whom I could find the light desires. I mean desires with actions, for there are certain persons who, in their own opinion, are disengaged from all things, and so they publish it to the world. And it is proper they should be so, because their state of life requires such, as well as the many years since they began to enter on the way of perfection. But my soul knows well what a great difference there is between those who desire merely in words, and those who confirm their words by deeds. And she also understands well, how little is the good the former do, and how great is that which the others accomplish. He who has any experience can see this truth very clearly. And now I have mentioned the effects which those raptures produce that come from the Spirit of God. It is true that the effects are sometimes great, sometimes less. I say less, because though in the beginning the raptures produced these effects, yet as they are not confirmed by works, we cannot be certain if they are raptures. And besides, the more we endeavor to free ourselves from every imperfection, the more shall we increase in perfection. But this requires some time, and the more humility and divine love increase in the soul, so much the sweeter will be the odor those flowers of virtue will be sure to give, both to those who practice these virtues and to others also. It is true that our Lord knows how to work on a soul in these raptures in such a manner that little work will remain for the soul herself to do, in acquiring perfection. For no one can believe unless he has experienced it how it pleases our Lord to bestow favors upon a soul in such a state. Nor can we, in my opinion, attain such a state by any diligence on our part. I say not but that, by the help of our Lord, such persons who make use for many years of those means, which are prescribed by those who write concerning the beginnings and method of prayer, may arrive at perfection and become entirely disengaged from all things. But this will cost much labor and some time. But in raptures our Lord works without any labor on our part, and he expressly draws the soul from the earth and gives her dominion over all things therein. Though there might not be in this soul any more merit than there was in mine, I do not know how to express this point sufficiently strong, for in mine there was hardly any merit at all. If the question should be asked why His Majesty does so, the answer is because it is His will, and He acts how He pleases. And even though there should be no disposition in her at all, still He disposes her for receiving from His Majesty the blessing which He gives her. But not always does He grant these effects, because the gardener may have deserved them by having cultivated his garden well. Though at the same time it is certain that whoever does this properly, and endeavors to untie himself from all things, will be favored with many blessings. But sometimes he is pleased to show his greatness upon the most barren soil, as I have mentioned before, and to prepare it for receiving every good thing, so that now the soul seems to have no power, in a certain sense, of relapsing into the offenses she used to commit against God. She has her thoughts so accustomed to understand what is truth indeed, that everything else seems to her but the playthings of children. Sometimes she smiles within herself when she sees grave persons, who are given to prayer and other religious duties, make much of points of honor which this soul tramples under her feet. Some may say this is prudence and upholding the authority of their state, that so they may be able to do more good. But this soul knows very well that such persons might have done more good in one day, if they would have yielded up their authority for the love of God, then they would ever do in ten years by adhering to it. Thus does the soul lead a troublesome life, and always she has a cross. But she goes on advancing, though those with whom she converses may suppose that she has already arrived at the top of perfection, yet very soon they discover that she goes on improving, because our Lord continues to caress her more and more. God himself is in her soul, and he it is who has taken the charge of her into his own hands, and there he shines, and seems in a clear manner to be guarding her, that she may not offend him, and also to be caressing her and exciting her to serve him. When my soul arrived so far, that God was pleased to do me so great a favor, my misery ceased at once, and God gave me strength to avoid them, and I was no more affected by being afterwards in those occasions, and in the company of persons who formerly distracted me, than if I had not been in them at all. Rather was I help thereby, that which used before to injure me, now became instrumental in making me know God better, and loving him more, and likewise in making me see how greatly I was indebted to him, and how sorry I should be for having offended him. But I knew well that this blessing did not come from me, and that I had not obtained it by any diligence on my part, nor indeed had I even time for it, but that his majesty had given me strength for this purpose through his soul goodness. From the time when our Lord began to do me this favor of having raptures, my strength went on increasing, and he has also held me fast by the hand, that so I might not return back any more. And now, me thinks, it is nothing at all which I do on my part, but I understand very clearly that it is our Lord who does all, and therefore do I think that the soul on which our Lord confers these favors, provided she acknowledged with humility and fear that it is our Lord who gives them, and that we ourselves do nothing at all, may place herself in any company, and that however distracted or evil it may be, it will not affect her or move her in any way, but rather will it help her, and give her the means of reaping more profit thereby. Such are already strong souls whom our Lord chooses to do good to others, though this strength comes not from themselves. But when once our Lord brings a soul near himself, by little and little he communicates great secrets to her. In this ecstasy come true revelations and great favors and visions, and all these tend to humble and strengthen the soul, and to enable her to despise the things of this world, and to know more clearly the greatness of that reward which our Lord has prepared for those who serve him. May our Lord grant that the excess of goodness which he has been pleased to show such a miserable sinner may be in some way instrumental in strengthening and animating those who shall read this discourse, completely to abandon all things for God's sake, since his majesty gives such abundant rewards. And we see clearly, even in this life, what rewards and advantages he gives to those who love him, and so what will he not give them in the next? Chapter 22 The saint shows how secure a way it is for those who give themselves to contemplation, not to raise their minds to high things unless our Lord raised them himself, and how the humanity of Christ may serve as a means of reaching the highest degree of contemplation. I wish to make a remark here which, in my opinion, is very important, and if your reverence consider it proper, it may serve as a word of advice to you, and perhaps you may even stand in need of it. I have read in some books which treat a prayer that though the soul is not able of herself to arrive at this state, because everything is supernatural which our Lord works therein, yet that she may help herself towards this object by raising her mind above all created things, and that so raising it with humility for many years, and having first passed through the purgative way, and then through the illuminative, I do not know why it is called by this name. The writers particularly advise persons to abstract themselves from all reflection on corporeal things, that so they may be able to arrive at the contemplation of the divinity. They say that though it should be even the humanity of Christ, yet it is some impediment for those who have advanced so far, and that it hinders persons from applying to the most perfect kind of contemplation. To support this opinion, they allege what our Lord said to his apostles, when he was ascending into heaven, respecting the descent of the Holy Ghost upon them. My opinion is that if then they had that lively faith of our Lord being both God and man, as they had after the coming of the Holy Spirit, his corporeal presence would have been no hindrance to them, for he spoke not thus to his mother, though she loved him much more than all of them together. But they quote what our Lord said to his apostles, when he ascended into heaven, because it seems to them as all the action is spiritual, that every corporeal object will prove a hindrance and obstacle to this kind of prayer, that they should consider themselves independent of creatures, that God surrounds them on all sides, and hence that it should be their endeavor to see themselves engulfed in him. To make use of this sometimes seems good to me, but to separate ourselves entirely from Christ, and to place his divine body in the same company with our miseries, or even with all created things, this I can by no means allow. May his Majesty grant that I may make myself understood. I do not wish to contradict these men, because they are spiritual and learned, and they know well what they say. It is also true that God conducts souls through several ways and paths, as he did mine. And now I will declare some particulars thereof in other matters I will not interfere. But I will only speak of the danger in which I found myself, because I acted conformably to what I read. I firmly believe that whoever shall have arrived at the State of Union and not have passed further on, so as to have raptures and visions, and those other favors our Lord communicates to souls, may consider that which is mentioned above to be better as I did. But if I had continued in that state, I believe I never should have arrived to where I am now, because in my opinion it is an error. Though perhaps I myself may be deceived, but yet I will relate what happened to me. When I had no director and was engaged in reading those books alluded to above, I thought that by little and little I came to understand something, but I afterwards found out that if our Lord had not been my teacher, I should have learned very little by these books. It was a mere nothing which I understood, till his Majesty was pleased to make me know it by experience. Neither did I understand what I was doing. But when I began to understand a little about supernatural prayer, I mean the prayer of quiet. I endeavored to avoid all corporeal objects, though I dared not exalt my soul. For knowing how very wicked I always was, I saw that this would be a great presumption in me. But it seemed to me that I felt the presence of God, as indeed I did, and I endeavored to keep myself recollected with him. This is a sweet kind of prayer, if our Lord assists a soul therein, and the delight is very great. And when both the Prophet and the Pleasure are perceived, no one could then make me return to the humanity of Christ, because I thought that it was in reality an impediment to me. Oh, Lord of my soul, my good, Jesus Christ crucified! I never called to mind the opinion which I then held, without feeling pain at the thought, for I think I committed a great reason against thee, though perhaps in ignorance. I have been especially devoted to the person of Christ throughout all my life, for this other circumstance happened in the latter part of it. I say, in the latter part, before our Lord granted me the favor of having raptures and visions. I remain but a short time in this opinion, and then I always return to regal myself with my Lord, and especially when I receive the most blessed sacrament. I always desired to have some picture or image of him near my eyes, since I was not able to have him as deeply engraven on my soul as I could wish. But is it possible, oh my Lord, a thought should ever have entered my mind, even for an hour, that thou couldest be a hindrance to me in obtaining my greatest good? Whence have come all the blessings I have received but from thee? But I will not think I was in fault in this respect. Rather, I ought to pity myself for that which certainly proceeded from ignorance, and so thou wert pleased in thy goodness to remedy it, by giving me a person who delivered me from this error, and also by enabling me to see thee so often, as I shall afterwards declare, that so I might the more clearly understand how great that ignorance of mine was, and likewise that I might declare the same to many persons, as I have already done, and declare it here also. I believe that the cause why many souls do not advance more, nor attain great liberty of soul when they arrive at the prayer of union, is on this very account. There are two reasons on which, it seems to me, this opinion may be grounded, and though what I am going to say may be of little or no importance, yet I will declare it, because I have found by experience that my soul was not at all in a proper state till our Lord was pleased to give me light. For all those joys which she received came to me only by drafts, and when these were over, I did not find myself in such company, nor possessed of such strength to endure tribulations and temptations as I found afterwards. The first reason is that there is a little want of humility, which, however, lies hidden in such a manner that it is not perceived by the person. And who will be so proud and miserable as I was, even though he should have passed his whole life in numerous acts of penance, in prayers, and all imaginable persecutions? As not even then to consider himself very rich, and very well repaid, were our Lord to allow him to stand at the foot of the cross with St. John. No one but myself could help being content with such a happiness as this, for I was a loser many ways in all those things in which I ought to have been a gainer. But if our frail nature, or our infirmities, will not allow us always to be meditating on the Passion on account of its painfulness, what should prevent us from remaining with him now that he is risen again to glory, since we have him so nearest in the Blessed Sacrament? Nor need we behold him there so afflicted, torn in pieces covered with blood, so weary going along those rugged ways, so persecuted by those to whom he did such good, and even not believed in by his own apostles. Because it is true that no one can bear always to be meditating on all the sufferings which he endured. But in the Blessed Sacrament, we have him without his enduring any pain, and full of glory, giving strength to some, and courage to others, just as he did before he ascended into heaven. Here, in this most adorable sacrament, he is our companion, and it seems as if it were not in his power to absent himself one moment from us, and yet I was able to remove myself from thee, under the pretext of serving thee better. But when I was offending thee, I knew thee not, and when I did know thee, how could I think of gaining by the way I walked? Oh, what a rugged road I walked along, and now I find I should have quite lost my way, if thou hast not conducted me back to thee, for as thou wert near me, I saw I had all good things. And whenever any affliction comes upon me, I consider how thou wert treated before the Jews, and then the affliction is very easily born. With the presence of so good a friend, and under the guidance of so valiant a captain, who was in the foremost rank to suffer, everything can be endured for his sake. He assists us and gives us strength, and never fails in his promises. He is a true friend. I see clearly that in order to please God and to receive great favors from him, he wishes to give them to us through the hands of his most sacred humanity, in which his majesty has said, he is well pleased. Many, many times I have known this truth by experience. Besides, our Lord himself has told me so. I have also seen that by this gate we must enter, if we wish his sovereign majesty to communicate great secrets to our souls. Thus it is that I wish your reverence not to choose any other way, though you should have arrived at the very height of contemplation. For here you will be safe, since this is our Lord, from whom all blessings come. If you consider his life, your own will be improved, for he is the very best pattern we can have. What can we desire more than to have so good a friend by our side, who will never desert us in our afflictions and tribulations, like men in the world do? Blessed is that man who loves our Lord truly, and who always has him near to him. Let us consider the glory of St. Paul, who had the name of Jesus continually on his lips, because he had it deeply engraven in his heart. And from the time I have known this truth, I have carefully considered the life of many other great contemplative saints, and I have noticed that they walked along no other way. St. Francis shows this clearly by his wounds, stigmata, and St. Anthony of Padua by the infant. St. Bernard took great delight in the humanity of our Lord, so also did St. Catherine of Siena and many other saints, with whom your reverence is better acquainted than I am. This abstraction from corporeal objects must be good, since persons of such spirituality tell us so. But in my opinion, what they say must be understood of souls very far advanced in perfection. For till then, it is evident that the Creator must be sought for by means of creatures. But I will not say much on this point, since all depends on the favors our Lord is pleased to show to any soul. What I wish to be understood is that the most sacred humanity of Christ must not be taken into this account and let this point be well understood, that I would wish to know how to express myself properly. When God is pleased to suspend all the powers of the soul, as he does in those kinds of prayer already mentioned, we have seen plainly that this presence is taken away from us, whether we will or know. But let it go, for what a happy loss is that whereby we gain more than what we thought we had lost. Then the whole soul is employed in loving him, whom the understanding has already endeavored to know. And she loves that which she did not comprehend, and enjoys what she could not have enjoyed, except only by losing herself for her greater gain, as I have already mentioned. But that we should accustom ourselves, by a kind of artifice, not to endeavor with all our strength to place always before our eyes. And would it were always this most sacred humanity? This, I repeat, is what I do not like, for it is as if the soul walked in the air as the saying is, because she seems to have no support, however much she may fancy herself to be full of God. Since we are mortal, it is very important for us, as long as we live, to represent our Lord's humanity to our mind, for this is that other subject on which I wish to speak. The first I said proceeded from a once of a little humility, by presuming to raise the soul up before our Lord raised her, and not contenting herself with meditating on a subject so precious and sacred, she wishes to be married before she has labored with Martha. If our Lord should wish her to be married, we have nothing to fear then, though it should happen on the very first day of our entering his service. But let us consider the subject well, as I think I have mentioned before, this moat of little humility, though it may appear to be a mere nothing, will hinder us a great deal from advancing in contemplation. Let us return now to the second point. Though we are not angels, but have bodies, yet to desire to make ourselves angels, while we are still upon the earth, is a kind of madness. But our thoughts require some support, generally speaking, though sometimes the soul may be so raised above herself, and often so full of God, as not to stand in need of any created object in order to recollect herself. But this is not so common when the soul is overpowered with business, or in persecutions and troubles, when she cannot have so much quiet. And in times also of dryness and dullness, Christ our Lord is found to be a very good friend, because we consider him as man, and we behold him full of weakness and afflictions, and there he keeps us company. And when once we acquire the custom, we shall find it very easy to keep him close to us, though it will sometimes happen that we shall not be able to do either the one or the other. For this reason it will be well to do what I mentioned before, these, not to strive to procure any consolation of soul, come what may, but willingly to embrace the cross of Christ is very important. Our Lord was deprived of all consolation. He was left alone in his afflictions. Let us not leave him so. He will stretch out his hand to us, which will raise us up better than all our own endeavors, and yet he will absent himself also whenever he shall think fit, and will raise the soul above herself when he wishes, as I have already mentioned. God is much pleased to see a soul take, with humility, his son for her intercessor, and he loves her so much, that even if his majesty should desire to raise her up to a very high degree of contemplation, she acknowledges herself unworthy, and exclaims with St. Peter, depart from me, O Lord, for I am a sinful man. This I have experienced myself, and in this manner has God guided my soul. Let others go, as I have said, by another shortcut, but what I have learned is that all this edifice of prayer is grounded on humility, and that the more the soul humbles herself in prayer, the more does God exalt her. I do not remember that he ever showed any of those singular favors, of which I shall speak hereafter, but only when I was in confusion at seeing myself so wicked, and his majesty sometimes took care to make me understand certain things, which I never could have imagined myself in order to help me to know myself better. I believe that when the soul does anything on her part to help herself in this prayer of union, yet the building will very quickly fall, though for the present her efforts may seem to advance her, because it has no solid foundation. And I am afraid she will never arrive at true poverty of spirit, which consists not in seeking comfort and pleasure in prayer, for the pleasures of this world are already forsaken, but consolation in afflictions, for the love of him who always lived in them, and grace to remain patient under them, as well as quiet in irritities. And those such souls cannot help feeling some pain they're at, yet they do not disturb themselves so much as some persons do, who imagine that if they are not always working with the understanding, and do not have sensible devotion, all is lost. As if they could merit so great a blessing by their own exertions. I do not mean to say that they should not endeavor with care to keep themselves in the presence of God, but if they should be unable to have even one good thought, as I have mentioned in another place, yet they must not torment themselves. We are unprofitable servants, and what, therefore, can we fancy we are able to do? Our Lord is much better pleased that we should know this truth, and that we should consider ourselves only fit to be treated like some poor little asses, to turn the wheel for drawing the water spoken of before. For though these have their eyes blindfolded, and know not what they are doing, yet they draw up more water than the gardener can, with all his strength and exertions. We must walk in this way with liberty, and put ourselves in the hands of God. If His Majesty shall be pleased to rank us among the number of his confidential friends, we must accept the honor with a good will. But if not, we must be content to serve in inferior employment, and not sit down in the best place, as I have said elsewhere. God takes more care of us than we do ourselves, and knows what everyone is fit for. What use, then, is it for him, who has already given his whole will to God, to govern himself? In my opinion, this is less to be allowed here than in the first degree of prayer, and it does us much more harm if any error be committed, for these are supernatural blessings. If a man have a bad voice, however much he may force himself to sing, the voice will not thereby become good. But if God should please to give him a good voice, he need not torment himself. Let us therefore always beg of God to grant us his favors, and let the soul be resigned, though yet confiding in the greatness of God. And when she has received leave to remain at the feet of Christ, let her continue there in whatever way she can. Let her imitate Mary Magdalene, and when she becomes strong, our Lord will take her into the desert. Your reverence will do well to keep yourself in this way, until you meet with someone else who has more experience than I have in this matter. If they be persons who are only beginning to delight in God, do not believe them, for they think they receive more profit and delight when they help themselves. Oh, how manifestly does God show his power, when he wills, without these poor helps. And so, whatever resistance we may make, he carries away the soul, just as some giant would carry away a straw. What an incredible thing would it be for a man to believe and to hope that a toad can fly whenever it liked. Now I consider it to be a more difficult and absurd thing for our soul to raise herself up, without being raised by God, because it is laden with earth and hindered by a thousand obstacles, and merely wishing to fly will be of little use to her. And though flying be more natural to a soul than to a toad, yet the soul is so deeply buried in mire, that she has lost the power of flying by her own fault. I wish to conclude with this remark, that whenever we meditate on Christ our Lord, we should ever remember the love wherewith he bestows so many favors upon us, and how great that love was by his giving such a pledge of it, for love produces love. And though we should be mere beginners, and with all very wicked, yet let us always be endeavoring to consider what I have been saying, and be exciting ourselves to love him. If once our Lord shall be pleased to do us the favor of imprinting this love on our hearts, everything will become easy to us, and very quickly shall we begin to work, and this without any trouble. May his majesty grant us this favor, since he knows how necessary it is for us, and we beg this favor by the great love he bore us, and for the sake of his divine son, who also loved us so much to his own cost. Amen. One thing I should feign as your reverence, these, how our Lord, when he begins to confer such high favors on a soul, as to raise her to a state of perfect contemplation, and this soul ought then most certainly to become perfect entirely and immediately, since a soul which receives such great favors should no longer desire the constellations of this world. How our Lord can in process of time abandon this soul without maintaining her in the perfection of virtue, especially after she has received raptures and been accustomed to receive other favors. For the more she becomes disengaged from creatures, the more highly is she favored, considering too, when our Lord enters a soul, he can sanctify her in a moment. This I desire to know, for I do not understand it, though I know well there is a difference between the strength which these raptures give in the beginning, when they continue for only the twinkling of an eye, and between the strength which the soul receives when they continue longer. But the doubt often occurs to me, whether the cause of this may not be, that the soul does not give herself up entirely to God, till his majesty leads her by little and little, and makes her determine at once, and gives her the strength of a full-grown man, that so she may trample everything under her feet, just as Mary Magdalene did so quickly. And so does he do to others, in proportion as they cooperate with him, and as they allow his majesty to dispose of them according to his own good pleasure, for we cannot but believe that even in this life God rewards us a hundredfold. I thought also of this comparison, that supposing what is given to beginners as well as to proficient be all the same, it is like a delicious viand whereof many persons eat, that they who eat little retain the sweet taste of it only for a short time, and they who eat more are unable to subsist, but that they who eat plentifully on it receive life and strength. A soul may even feed so often and so fully on this food of life, as to have no relish at all for anything but that food, because she derives great benefit therefrom. Her taste also is so accustomed to this sweetness, that she would rather cease to exist than feed on other things, all of which would only serve to take away the good taste which the former food left on her lips. Besides, the conversation and company of a holy person does not do us so much good in one day as in many, but we may, by the divine assistance, become like unto him by remaining long with him. Finally, the chief point depends upon God, to whom and when he is pleased to give his graces. But it is important to remember that he who begins to receive this favor must resolve to disengage himself from everything, and to esteem the favors of our Lord as highly as they deserve. It also seems to me as if his majesty were resolved to try who they are that love him, whether this soul or that, and that he likewise wishes to discover who he is himself, by giving us such excessive delights to quicken our faith, if it should be dead or weak, about those blessings he intends to give the soul. And he says, Behold, this is but a drop in that immense ocean of blessing, which I mean to give to those that love me. And when he sees that we receive them as he gives them, he then gives us himself. He loves those who love him, and what a good friend, and whom are worthy to be loved. O Lord of my soul, who will give me words that I might make men understand what thou dost give to those who trust in thee, and what they lose who arrive at this state, and yet remain attached to themselves. Do not permit this, O Lord, since thou dost so much in coming to so wicked a place as my heart. Be thou blessed forever and ever. And now I wish to entreat your reverence, that should you mention these matters on prayer, concerning which I have written, you would do so only to spiritual persons, because if they understand only one way, or have remained stationary half way, they cannot judge correctly. There are some whom God quickly raises to a very sublime degree, and they may think that others also might arrive there, and keep the understanding quiet, without making use of corporeal objects as means. Such persons, however, will remain as dry as a stick. And some who have enjoyed a little the prayer of quiet, presently imagine that as they have reached one degree they may reach the other. But these, instead of advancing, go backwards, as I have mentioned before. Thus, in all these matters both experience and prudence are necessary, and may our Lord, in his goodness, grant them to us. Chapter 23 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 Anne Boulet. The Life of Saint Teresa, by Teresa of Jesus, translated by the Reverend John Dalton. Chapter 23. The Saint resumes the history of her life, and tells us how she began to aim at higher perfection, and the means she employed for this purpose. I now wish to return to the place where I left off speaking of my life, for I have dwelt on other matters longer, I think, than I ought, in order that what is now to follow may be better understood. Henceforth this will be another new book. I mean another new life. Hitherto it was my life, but since I began to explain these points respecting prayer, the life I have lived since then is that when God lived in me, as far as seemed to me. Because otherwise I consider it impossible for me to have left off, in so short a time, such evil customs and actions. May our Lord be praised for having delivered me from myself. When I began to avoid the occasions of sin and to give myself more to prayer, our Lord began also to confer favors upon me. As one who desired I should be willing to receive them. His Majesty then began to give me very commonly the prayer of quiet, and often that of union, which continued a very long time. But when I learnt that at this time there happened great illusions and deceits to certain women, which came from the devil, I became very afraid, considering what great delight and sweetness I felt, and that often I could not avoid such things. Though on the other side I saw in me cause for very great security, these, that all came from God, especially when I was in prayer. I saw also that I was much improved by these favors, and acquired much greater strength. But when a little distraction came upon me, I began to fear again whether the devil might not be desirous of making me imagine that it were good to suspend the understanding, and so deprive myself of the exercise of mental prayer, and that I might not be able to meditate on the passion nor make use of my understanding. And this seemed a great loss to me. But as His Majesty was now pleased to give me light, in order that I might no more offend Him, and might see how much I was indebted to Him, this fear increased on me in such a manner as to make me diligently search for some spiritual persons, with whom I could speak on the affairs of my soul. Already I had heard of some. For some fathers of the society of Jesus had come into Spain, and for this order I had great regard, without however knowing any of the fathers. For the sole reason of my knowing the kind of life and prayer they practiced. But I did not consider myself worthy to speak with them, nor strong enough to obey them, and this gave me great fear, because to treat with them on spiritual matters, and yet to remain as I was, seemed to me very foolish and wrong. Admit such thoughts as these I passed some time, till at last by the contest I endured inwardly, and through my fears which I still had, I resolved to state my case to a spiritual man, to ask him what he thought of the kind of prayer I used, and to enlighten me if he found I was in error. I also resolved to use all possible diligence not to offend God. Through my want of courage I became more and more timid. Oh my God, what a great error it was in me to separate myself from my God in order to become good. In this point the devil labors much when we are beginning to acquire virtue, because I could not conquer myself herein. He, the devil, knows well that the sovereign means of doing good to a soul is to seek advice from those who are the friends of God, and thus I could not fix on any time to resolve upon this. I expected to reform myself first, as I had done before when I left off prayer, and perhaps I should never have accomplished my object, for I had already fallen so deeply into certain bad habits, which I did not know were evil, that it was necessary for me to be assisted by someone else in order to raise me up. Blessed be our Lord, for His own hand was the first to help me. When I now perceive my fears to increase so much, because I was more given to prayer, it seemed to me that there was either some great good, or some very great evil involved in my case, because I was already well aware that my prayer was supernatural, since sometimes I was not able to resist it, and even when I wished to obtain it, I could not. I accordingly thought that there would be no remedy for me if I did not endeavor to keep a pure conscience, and to avoid every occasion of sin, even venial ones. If my prayer came from the Spirit of God, the benefit would be evident, but if from the devil, he could do me no hurt at all, but rather he would suffer loss, if I endeavor to please God and not to offend him. Having resolved upon this and always be seeking our Lord to assist me, though I continued this same course for several days, yet I found my soul had not strengthened enough to arrive at such perfection of herself, on account of some affection and inclination I still had for certain things, which though not very bad in themselves, yet were sufficient to spoil everything. A certain priest in this place was mentioned to me, who was a learned man, and whose virtue and good life our Lord began to discover to the public. I accordingly endeavor to become acquainted with this ecclesiastic by means of a holy individual who lived in the same town. This gentleman was married, but his life was so exemplary and virtuous, and so charitable was he and given to prayer, that all men admired his goodness and perfection, and with reason, because many souls obtained great good through his means, and by the excellent abilities he had, for though they did not assist him in increasing his fortune, still he did not refuse to employ them for the good of others. He had an excellent understanding and was mild and kind to everyone. His conversation was not troublesome, but so sweet and agreeable, as well as just and holy, that everyone was delighted who spoke to him. He directed all things for the greater good of those souls with whom he conversed, and indeed he seemed to have no other aim or desire, but to give pleasure to everyone, and to do all for them that they allowed him. Now I do believe that this holy and blessed man, by his care and attention, was chiefly instrumental in the salvation of my soul. I am astonished at his humility in wishing to see me, for I think he had spent little less than 40 years in the practice of mental prayer, perhaps not quite so long by two or three years, and he led a life of perfection, such as his station seemed to allow. His wife was also a great servant of God, and so charitable that he lost nothing by her. In fine he chose her for his wife as being one whom God knew to be fit for so great a servant of his. Some of his kindred were married to some relations of mine. I was likewise well acquainted with another great servant of God, who was married to a cousin of mine, and by means of this person I managed that this priest, who was his great friend and such a great servant of God likewise, should come and speak with me, for I intended to make my confession to him and take him for my director. The gentleman then before mentioned, having introduced me to him, I was extremely confused to see myself in the presence of so holy a man. I gave him, however, an account of my life and prayer, for he excused himself from hearing my confession, saying that he was then very busy, and so he was. He began with the holy resolution to guide me, as he would one who was strong, and I ought to have been so, considering the kind of prayer I believed I was using, and this he did that I might not offend God in any way whatever. But I was much troubled when I soon perceived what his resolution was with regard to those little practices which, as I have said, I had not the courage to leave off immediately in a perfect manner, and when I also saw that he meant to settle the affairs of my soul as it were all at once, then I was convinced that I stood in need of much more care and consideration. In a word, I clearly understood that the means he prescribed were not those which would supply a remedy, for they were only fit for a more perfect soul than mine. And though, as regards myself, I had advanced by having received favors from God, yet I was but just beginning to acquire virtue and mortification. And I certainly believed that if I had had no one else to consult with but this person, my soul would never have improved, because, through the affliction it gave me to see how I did not and could not, as I thought, do that which he told me, it was enough to make me despair and give up everything. Sometimes I wondered that as this holy priest had a particular faculty in winning souls to God, his majesty was not pleased to give him a knowledge of my soul, nor to allow him to take care of it. But now I see that this all happened for my greater good, that so I might come to know and converse with such holy men, as they are who belong to the society of Jesus. In the meantime, I made an agreement with the saintly gentleman of whom I spoke, that now and then he should come and visit me. Herein I discovered his great humility, since he was pleased to converse with such a wicked creature as myself. He accordingly began to visit me and encourage me, and he told me that I must not think of delivering myself from all my imperfections in one day, but that God would do it by little and little, and that he himself had been whole years in correcting some very little faults, not having been able to do the work sooner. Oh, humility, what great blessings does thou bestow on those with whom thou remainest, and even upon those who only approach the possessors of it? This saint, and in my opinion I may well give him this name, related certain things to me, which, through his humility, seem weaknesses to him, but he did so for my cure. Considering his state of life, they were neither faults nor imperfections, but for me, it was a very great fault to be subject to them. I do not speak thus without a reason, though perhaps I enlarge too much about these little trifles, but they are so important for enabling a soul to gain profit and for teaching her to fly, though she may scarcely have any feathers as the saying is, that no one who has not had experience thereof will believe what I say. I mention these things here because I hope in God that your reverence will derive profit from them, for my health consisted in discovering the means of curing myself, and in my director's exercising humility and charity towards me, and bearing patiently with me for not correcting myself entirely and immediately. I began to conceive so high a regard for this priest, for he used great discretion, and this by little and little, and showed me the way to overcome the devil, that I could not experience greater comfort than when I saw him, though it was but seldom. When he delayed his visits, I was then much troubled, thinking that perhaps he did not come to see me because I was so wicked. When he came to know my great imperfections, which perhaps might have been sins, and after I had spoken to him I was much improved, and when I also mentioned to him the favors God had bestowed upon me, in order that he might enlighten me, he told me that they did not agree with each other, and that such favors were only fit for persons who were already very far advanced, and were very mortified. That for his part he could not help being greatly afraid, because there seemed to him to be an evil spirit in some things, though he could not be absolutely sure such was the case, but he wished me to consider well what I knew respecting my prayer, and to relate all the circumstances to him. Now here was the difficulty, for I neither knew much, nor could I tell much, respecting the nature of my prayer, for it is only a short time ago, since God granted me the favor of understanding my prayer, and knowing how to speak of it. When he spoke in this manner to me, great was my affliction, and many tears I shed, through the fear I had. For I certainly desired to serve and please God, and I could not persuade myself that this came from the devil. I only feared, lest through my great sins, our Lord might blind me, so that I could not understand my state. Turning over one day some books to see if I could meet with anything concerning my prayer, I found in one which is called the Ascent to the Mountain, that is relating to the union of a soul with God. All the proofs of what I used to say so often, these, that I could not think of anything when I was in that kind of prayer. I marked with lines those places where the passages were to be found, and then I gave him the book, so that both he himself and the other holy priest and servant of God, of whom I have spoken, might peruse it, and tell me what I was to do, and whether it was their opinion I should give up my prayer altogether. Why should I expose myself to those dangers if now, after having used this kind of prayer for almost twenty years, I had to ride no other benefit from it than to be imposed upon by the devil. It would be better for me not to practice this prayer at all, though this would be a hard case for me, since I had already found by experience what a state my soul was in without prayer. Thus everything now seemed wretched and miserable to me. I was like one having been cast into a river, saw more and more danger on whatever side he should go, and so was almost on the point of being drowned. This state is a very great affliction, and of such afflictions I have endured many, as I shall afterwards relate. And though what I say may seem to be of little importance, yet it may prove of some use towards understanding how a soul is to be tried. The affliction which is endured in these cases is indeed great, and much prudence is necessary, especially when men have to treat with women, for our weakness is very great, and great mischief may be done by telling us that such and such a thing comes from the devil, without at the same time considering the matter very carefully, removing us from all possible dangers, and advising us to keep things private. And it is proper that the men themselves should be careful in this respect. I speak on this subject as one who has had great trouble, because I could not find proper persons with whom to consult concerning my prayer. I could only ask this or that individual what he thought would be for my good, but they did me great harm, and many things have become public which ought to have remained private, since they are not fit for everyone to know, and besides it may seem as if they have been divulged by me. But I believe these people made such matters public without any fault on their side, and our Lord was pleased to permit this to happen, that so I might suffer. I am far from saying that what passed between us in confession was made public, but as they were the persons to whom I gave an account of my prayer, being moved there too by my fears, that so they might enlighten me, I think they might have kept silence. However, I never could venture to conceal anything from such persons. I say therefore, that such souls must be discreetly advised and animated, waiting till our Lord shall help them, as he did me. And if he had not done so, I should have suffered very great harm on account of my fears and apprehensions, and especially considering how much I was subject to palpitation of the heart. I wonder, I did not receive more injury. When I delivered this book and had given him an account of my life and sins as best I could, in a general way, for I did not make a confession, because he was a layman, though yet I made him understand how wicked I was. These two servants of God considered, with great charity and love, what was proper to be done. The answer having come, which I was expecting with great fear, and having requested many persons to recommend me to God. Besides praying myself during all those days with much affliction, the gentleman came to me and told me, the opinion of both of them was, that my prayer was a delusion of the devil, and that the best thing to do would be to speak on the matter to a certain father of the society of Jesus. For if I would invite him to call on me and tell him how I was situated, he would most certainly come. That I should give him an account of my whole life by making a general confession, and explaining everything with great clearness, and that then, in the virtue of the sacrament of penance, God would give him more light to guide me. That the fathers were men of great experience in spiritual matters, and that it would be well to be careful in not departing from what they told me. For if I had no one to direct me, that I should expose myself to great danger. These words filled me with so much fear and pain, that I knew not what to do. I did nothing but weep. And being one day in an oratory full of trouble, and not knowing what would become of me, I read in a book, which it seems our Lord put into my hands, these words of Saint Paul, God is faithful and will not suffer us to be tempted above our strength. I was comforted exceedingly by these words, and began to consider about making my general confession, and to put in writing all the sins and blessings, and the whole history of my life, as clearly as I knew how, without omitting anything. I remember that when I read over what I had written, and saw how many sins I had recounted, and that I had done hardly any good action, I was grieved and afflicted exceedingly. I was also troubled that the people of the house should see me conversing with such holy men as those of the society of Jesus are, for I was afraid of my own wickedness. And I thought I should be obliged to be wicked no more, and that I should give up my idle conversations, and that, if I did not, it would be worse for me. And so I prevailed on the portraits and the sacrosanct not to speak to anyone. But this precaution was of little use, for there happened to be one at the gate, when I was called, who published it all over the convent. But what difficulties and troubles does the devil raise against those who desire to approach near to God? After I had spoken with this great servant of God concerning my soul, and had given him an account of my whole life, he told me what everything was as one well acquainted with this language, and he encouraged me much, and told me that my prayer was very evidently from the Spirit of God, but that I must return to it again, because I was not well grounded therein, nor had I so much as begun to know what mortification was. This was very true, for it seems I hardly understood even the name. He told me also that I must on no account give up my prayer, but rather apply more diligently there too, since God had bestowed on me such particular favors. Who could tell, he said, whether our Lord might not be pleased to do good to many souls through your means? Other things also he mentioned to me in such a way, that he seems to have prophesied what our Lord was pleased to do with me afterwards. And I should deserve much blame if I corresponded not with those favors which our Lord showed me. In all things it seemed to me that the Holy Spirit spoke by this Father for the cure of my soul, so deeply was everything he said imprinted therein. He may be greatly confused, and gave me such directions that he seemed to change into quite another person. So very important is it to understand a soul. He told me to meditate every day on some part of the passion, and that I should profit much thereby, that I should dwell only on his sacred humanity, and should resist as much as possible those recollections and caresses, and not give way to them until he should speak to me again on the subject. He left me both comforted and strengthened, and our Lord assisted both me and him in order that he might understand my state, and how I was to be guided. I also firmly resolved not to depart in any way from what he should command me, and in this resolution I have continued till now. May our Lord be praised for having given me grace to obey my confessors, though so imperfectly. And these have almost always been those holy men belonging to the society of Jesus, though, as I have said, I followed their advice imperfectly. But my soul began evidently to be much improved, as I will now relate. Chapter 24 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 24 The Saint Continues the History of Her Life and tells us how her soul was improved after she began to obey her confessor. After this confession my soul became so tractable that it seemed there could be nothing which I would not willingly embrace, and so soon I began to change in many things, though my director did not press me much, but rather seemed to make little account of everything. This treatment had the more effect upon me because he guided me by the method of loving God, and he gave me also more liberty and told me I should not gain a reward unless I did everything through love. In the meantime I continued for almost two months, using every means in my power of resisting the favors and caresses of God. A change was perceptible in my outward conduct, because our Lord already began to give me courage to do certain things, which those who knew me, and especially the religious of the convent, justly believed me incapable of overcoming, considering what I was before. Still I fell short of what I was obliged to do by my habit and profession. By resisting the caresses of God I gained this much, that his majesty became my instructor. For before it seemed that in order to dispose me for receiving caresses in prayer, I was obliged to retire and shut myself up in a corner, as it were, so that I durst hardly stir. But afterwards I perceived how little this served my purpose. For the more I endeavored to resist, the more did our Lord cover me over in such a way with sweetness and glory, that I seemed to be so entirely surrounded thereby, that I could not possibly escape. And so it was. I took so much pains in resisting that it was quite a trouble to me, and yet our Lord, even then, took more care to bestow favors upon me, and to express himself much more clearly to me, during those two months, than he had formerly done, in order that I might understand the better it was no longer in my power to resist. And now I began to conceive a new kind of love for the most sacred humanity of our Lord, and my prayer began to settle itself, like a building which has mortar in it. I also felt more inclined to do penance, wherein I had grown careless on account of my great infirmities. But this holy man, to whom I made my confession, told me that some penances would do me no harm, that God had perhaps afflicted me so much as a penance, since I did not wish to do any myself. He commanded me also to perform certain acts of mortification, which were not very agreeable to me. Still, I performed them all, because it seemed as if our Lord himself had commanded them. His majesty gave him grace so to direct everything in such a way, that I might be glad to obey him. Then my soul began to feel every offense, however small it might be, which I committed against God, and this to such a degree, that if I wore anything superfluous about me, I was unable to recollect myself till I had cast it off. I prayed much to our Lord that he would protect me, and that since I conversed with his servants, he would not permit me to fall back again, for I thought that would indeed be a great offense, and that they might lose their good name on my account. About this time there came to Avala, Father Francis Borgia, who had been Duke of Gandia, and who some years before had abandoned the world and entered the society of Jesus. My confessor, and also the gentleman of whom I have spoken before, wished me to speak to this Father and give him an account of my prayer, for they knew that he was already far advanced in being highly favored and caressed by God, and that as he had abandoned everything for his sake, our Lord wished to repay him even in this life. When Father Francis had heard me, he told me that my prayer came from the Spirit of God, and that it was his opinion I should no longer resist his favors, though till then he thought I had done right in doing so. He recommended me likewise always to begin my prayer by meditating on some part of the passion, and that if afterwards our Lord should elevate my soul, I should not resist, but suffer his majesty to carry it away, provided however I did not endeavor to procure the rapture. Being far advanced himself in this way, he gave me both medicine and advice, for in such matters experience is very important. He told me also that it would be an error to resist any longer. These words consoled me greatly as well as the gentleman, for he rejoiced exceedingly to hear Father Borgia say that my prayer came from God. He always assisted me and gave me advice as far as he could, which was very great. About this time my confessor was ordered by his superiors to go to another place, and this circumstance troubled me much, for I thought I should become wicked again, and it seemed impossible to find another like him. My soul appeared as if dwelling in a desert, so very sad and fearful was she. I knew not what to do with myself. A relation of mine took me home with her, and I was willing to go, in order that I might find another confessor belonging to the society. Our Lord was pleased I should then form a friendship with a certain lady, a widow of quality, and one given to prayer, who was very intimate with the fathers of the society. She induced me to confess to her own director, and I remained for some days in her house, for she lived near me. I was delighted to be able often to converse with those fathers, for the mere knowledge of the sanctity of their conversation was a great advantage which my soul experienced. This father began to put me in the way of greater perfection, telling me I should omit doing nothing, that so I might give the greatest pleasure to God. This he told me with great prudence and sweetness, for my soul was not yet strong in anything, but very tender, especially in giving up certain friendships which I had then formed. For though I did not thereby offend God, yet the affection I had for the persons was very great, and it seemed ungrateful in me to break off their friendship, and so I told him, that since our Lord was not offended, why should I become ungrateful? He replied, I should do well to recommend the matter to God for some days, and to recite the hymn, Beanie Creator, that so the Holy Ghost might enlighten me to do what was the best. Having then one day prayed a long time, and humbly besought our Lord to help me to please him in all things. I began to recite the hymn, and while I was saying it, a rapture came on me so suddenly that I almost lost myself. And of this I could not doubt, for it was very evident, and it was also the very first time our Lord gave me the favor of a rapture. Then I heard these words, I do not wish you to converse with men, but with angels. I was much amazed at this occurrence, for the commotion of my soul was great, and these words were spoken to me in the very interior of my heart, so that they made me afraid, though on the other hand they gave me great consolation, which remained with me after my fears had left me, and this fear had, in my opinion, produced the strange novelty. These words have been strictly accomplished, for never afterwards have I been able to form any friendship, nor to feel any consolation, or particular love for anyone, except for those persons who I knew adhered to God and endeavored to serve Him. Nor is it now in my power, neither does it matter whether any of these be friends or relations, for if I find that this or that person is not a servant of God, and not given to prayer, it is a heavy cross for me to speak with him. This is the very truth as far as I can judge. From that day I have remained full of courage and resolution to abandon all things for God, as if he had been pleased in that moment, and it seemed to be more than a moment, to make his servant become quite another creature. Thus there was no longer any necessity to command me in this respect, for when my confessor found me so determined, he did not venture expressly to tell me I should do it. He waited till our Lord should be pleased to do it himself, as he did indeed. And never did I imagine I should succeed, for already I had used some endeavors for this purpose, and so great was the affliction I endured that I resolved to give up the attempt, as being inconvenient to continue. But now our Lord gave me both liberty and power to put it in execution. This circumstance I told to my confessor, and I gave up everything according as I had been commanded. It did him no little good, whom I had consulted, to behold what a resolution I had taken. May God be pleased forever, who gave me in a moment that power and liberty which before I had not been able to procure with all the diligence I had used for many years. For I had so often exerted all my strength, that my health was thereby considerably injured. But as he has accomplished it, who is all-powerful and truly the Lord of all things, I now suffer no pain whatever.