 The fourth mansion, Chapter 1 of the Interior Castle. 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 Interior Castle, or the Mansions, by St. Teresa of Avila, translated by the Reverend John Dalton. The fourth mansion, Chapter 1. The saint speaks of the difference which exists between sweetness and tenderness in prayer. She also mentions the consolation she found on discovering that the imagination and the understanding were distinct powers. As I am now about to speak of the fourth mansions, it is necessary, as I said, that I should recommend myself to the Holy Spirit. Beceaching him to speak for me henceforth, that so I may say something of those mansions yet remaining, so as you should understand me. Prayer begins supernatural subjects, and it is very difficult to make them understood unless His Majesty assist us. As I have said elsewhere, when writing about fourteen years ago, what I had then learnt and experienced. Though it seems to me I now have a little clearer knowledge of those favors, which our Lord bestows on some souls. But merely feeling them is quite different from knowing how to express them. May His Majesty teach me how to express myself. If any prophet is to be derived therefrom, if none, then I do not wish it. As these mansions are nearer the chamber where the king is, great is their beauty, and there are things there so glorious to be seen and understood, that the understanding is incapable of finding any means whereby to explain these subjects properly, without being very obscure to those who have no experience therein. The He who has this experience, especially if it be great, will understand what is said. In order to arrive at these mansions, it may seem necessary to have lived a long time in the former ones. But though, generally speaking, one must have dwelt in the last we were speaking about, yet there is no certain rule, as you have often heard. For our Lord bestows His favors when, and how, and to whom He pleases, being His goods, without any injury to anyone. His reptiles seldom enter these mansions, and if they should, they do no harm, but rather we gain thereby. I consider it the best for us when they do enter and make war against us in this state of prayer, because the devil may mingle his delusions with those delights which God gives us, if there were no temptations. And so he might do much more harm than when there are temptations, and the soul might not gain so much, when those things were removed which acquire her merit. And she is left in her ordinary inebriation. When the soul always remains in one state, I do not consider it safe, nor does it seem to me possible that the Spirit of God should, during this exile, continue always in the same state. Now, to come to what I was discoursing of, these, the difference between the pleasures and delights which we receive in prayer, me thinks that those may properly be called pleasures, which we ourselves acquire in our meditations and petitions to our Lord, and these come from our good works, though assisted of course by God, for this must always be presupposed, since without him we can do nothing. They proceed, as I said, more from the particular good actions we perform, and which it seems we have gained by our labor. And justly does it please us to be employed in such things, but if we consider the matter well, we shall find the same pleasures and many other things which may happen to us in the world. Thus, for example, from a great estate coming unexpectedly to us, from seeing one whom we did not expect to see, and whom we love tenderly, from having brought to a successful end a business of importance, from having succeeded well in a matter of which all speak well, from beholding a rive safe home, either a husband, a son, or a brother, whom we heard was dead. I have seen tears attended with great delight, and sometimes this has happened to myself, and he thinks that as these are natural joys, so are those which divine things excite in us, except that the latter are of a more noble origin, though even those others are not bad, in a word they begin from our nature and end in God. Delights begin from God, and nature feels them, and delights as much, nay, more, in them as in the examples I have mentioned. Oh, Jesus, how I long to be able to explain myself herein, because I think I find a clear difference, and yet I am unable to make myself understood. May our Lord assist me. I now remember some words we use at prime in the last Psalm, which runs thus at the end of the verse. Kuhm dillataste kormayum. Whoever has much experience will hereby see the difference between the one and the other, but he who has not this experience will require more explanation. The pleasures of which I have spoken do not enlarge the heart, rather do they straighten it, though they may be pleasures which arise from considering that we do something for God, and certain tears of sorrow follow, which seem caused in some degree by passion. I know little of these passions of the soul, and of that which comes from sensuality and from our nature. If I did, I might perhaps be able to express myself better. But I am so dull, that though I have had experience therein, I do not understand it, or know how I could explain my meaning as I could wish. Knowledge and learning are very necessary for everything. What I have known by experience concerning this state, I mean the tenderness and delights received in meditation, is this. That if I began to weep over the passion of our Lord, I could not finish without having a violent headache. It was the same when I wept for my sins. Our Lord thus bestowed a great favor upon me. I am not now desirous of examining which is best, this or that, but I wish I could explain the difference between one and the other. Tears sometimes flow from these things, and desires arise aided by our nature and constitution. But as I have said, they at last end in God. And even so, we ought to esteem it a high favor if there be humility. And remember that they who receive these favors are not there for the better, because we cannot tell whether they are all the effects of love. But when they are, it is the gift of God. The souls of the preceding mansions have, for the most part, these devotions, for they are almost always occupied by the operation of the understanding and discourse and meditation. And they do well, because more is not given to them. Still, it would be good sometimes to employ themselves in making acts of love and praise to God, to rejoice in His goodness and other perfections, and to desire His honor and glory, and doing all this in the best manner we can, for these acts powerfully excite the will. Let them take care, however, when our Lord bestows such affections upon them, not to forsake them in order to finish their usual meditation. But having spoken at some length in another part on this subject, I shall say no more here. At this point, however, I wish you to notice these. In order to make great advance in this way, and to be able to ascend to the mansions we desire, we must remember that the business does not consist in thinking, but in loving much. Do, therefore, whatever may excite you most to love. Perhaps we do not know what love is, and I do not wonder at it, for it consists not in having greater delights, but greater resolutions and desires of pleasing God in everything, and in endeavoring as much as possible not to offend Him, and in beseeching Him that He would promote the honor and glory of His Son, and extend the bounds of the Catholic Church. These are signs of love. Do not imagine that it consists in not thinking on anything else, and that all is lost if you have a few distractions. With this confusion of thought, I myself have sometimes been greatly afflicted. It is not much more than four years ago since I came to know, by experience, that the thought or imagination that you may understand me better is not the understanding. I asked a learned man, and he told me this was true, and this answer gave me no small satisfaction. As the understanding is one of the faculties of the soul, I was troubled because it was sometimes so restless. And generally the imagination flies so rapidly that only God can tie it up, and when He ties it, we then seem to be in a manner disengaged from the body. I have seen, I think, the powers of the soul employed on God, and recollected in Him, and yet, on the other hand, the imagination so unquiet that I was astonished. Oh, my Lord, accept as some small satisfaction the great trouble which we endure in this journey through want of knowledge. The misery is that as we suppose we have no more to learn but to think upon Thee, we neither care to ask those who are learned, nor do we imagine there is anything to be asked. Hereby we suffer terrible afflictions, because we do not understand ourselves, and we consider that to be a great crime which is not bad, but good. Hence arise the afflictions of many who are given to prayer, and their complaints of inward troubles, at least this happens to persons who are not learned. Hence also arise melancholys and loss of health, and a total neglect of prayer through not considering that there is an interior world. And as we cannot prevent the heavenly bodies from going on their rapid course, so neither can we stop the wanderings of the imagination. But we immediately send all the faculties of the soul after it, and consider ourselves quite lost, and that we have misspent the time during which we were in God's presence, and perhaps in the meantime the soul is wholly united with Him in the inmost mansions, while the imagination is roaming round the suburbs of the castle, and is engaged with a thousand wild and poisonous beasts, and thus acquiring merit by this painful conflict. We should not therefore trouble ourselves, nor give up our prayer, for it is the devil's object to induce us to do so. The greater part of all our troubles and miseries arise from our not understanding ourselves. While I am writing these words, and considering the great noise which, as I said in the beginning, runs in my head, so that I consider it almost impossible to finish what I am commanded to write, me thinks there are within it many vast rivers, and on the other side of these waters, that several little birds hang chirping. This noise is not in my ears, but in the top of my head, where they say the superior part of the soul resides. I have been in this state for some time, and it seems to be a wonderful movement of the Spirit, mounting upwards with speed. By grant I may remember in the following mansions to explain the reason of this. It is not proper to do it here. It is very probable that our Lord was pleased to send me this pain in the head, and infirmity, that so I might understand it better, for notwithstanding all the noise I endure, it does not hinder my prayer, nor my attention to what I am saying, for my soul remains very tranquil in her quiet, and love, and desires, and clearness of knowledge. Now if the superior part of the soul resides in the top of the head, how is it that it is not troubled by the noise? This I know not, but I do know that what I say is true. When the prayer is without suspension, then indeed the noise troubles her. But while this continues, no harm is perceived. It would, however, be a considerable evil if through this obstacle I were wholly to omit prayer. It is not therefore good to trouble ourselves on account of distracting imaginations, nor indeed to heed them at all. For if they are caused by the devil, by our acting thus he will desist. But if they come as they do, from the misery entailed on us by Adam's side, together with many other evils which come from the same source, let us, however, bear them patiently for the love of God. We are likewise without our being able to help it, subject to eating and sleeping, which is a great affliction. Let us acknowledge our misery and desire to be there, where no one can despise us, for I remember having sometimes heard what the spouse in the canticles has said to this effect. Indeed I find nothing in this life concerning which words can be said with more truth, since all the contempts and crosses which happen to us in this world seem not, in my opinion, to be in any way compared with these inward conflicts. Any exterior trouble or war may be endured, provided we can find peace where we live, as I have said before. But that we should find rest from a thousand troubles which are in the world, and that our Lord should be pleased to prepare such a rest for us, and afterwards that we should find these difficulties is indeed a very painful and almost insupportable cross. Bring us therefore, O Lord, to that place where these miseries cannot delude or attack the soul, as they sometimes seem to do. Though even in this life our Lord delivers her from these, when she has arrived at the last mansion, as I shall explain if God wills me to do. But perhaps these miseries will not afflict and torment all persons, as they have done me during many years. I was so wicked that it seemed I desired to be thus revenged on myself, and because this proves so painful to me, I think that it may perhaps prove so to you likewise. Therefore it is that I mention it on every occasion, in order to try whether I could once make you understand it, as it is so necessary, in order that it may not always trouble and afflict you. But let these thoughts, which may be compared to a mill clock, pass by, and let us grind our corn, not omitting to work with our will and understanding. This trouble is more or less, according to our health and the times. The poor soul may suffer, though without any fault herein. Since we do other things, for which it is but proper we should practice patience. And because that which we read and our advice to do is not sufficient these to induce us to pay no attention to these thoughts, us especially, who know but little. I think that is not all lost time, which is spent in some further explanation of it, and in comforting you in this particular. But little good can be done till our Lord is pleased to give us light. It is necessary, however, and it is His Majesty's pleasure also, that we should use the means which may help us. Let us endeavor to understand ourselves, and not blame the soul, for that which is only caused by a weak imagination, by nature, and the devil. End of the Fourth Mansion, Chapter 1. The Fourth Mansion, Chapter 2 of the Interior Castle. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Interior Castle, or the Mansions, by St. Teresa of Avila, translated by the Rev. John Dalton. The Fourth Mansion, Chapter 2. The same discourse is continued, and by a comparison she explains what is meant by tenderness and prayer. Oh, my Lord, how much I have digressed! I have already forgotten the subject I was speaking about. Your business and sickness have compelled me to put off my writing till I had more leisure. And then, having a bad memory also, I do everything without any order, because I cannot review what I have written. And who knows that perhaps whatever I say is without method and confused? At least it seems so to me. I think I have said concerning spiritual consolations, that they are sometimes mixed with our passions, and they carry with them certain fits of sobbing. I have even heard tell of some persons, whose heads have been affected thereby, and certain external motions have likewise followed, which they could not stop, and this with such violence as to make the blood gush out of their nostrils with other painful things. Of these I can say nothing, because I have no experience therein, but they afford us comfort. Because, as I have said, all ends at last in a desire of pleasing God and of enjoying Him, but those which I call divine delights, and which I have named elsewhere the prayer of quiet, are of another nature, as those amongst you who through the mercy of God have experienced them will understand. In order to understand the subject better, let us imagine we see two springs, together with two cisterns that are filled with water. For I find no comparison more adapted for explaining spiritual subjects than this of water, and this I account for because I have little knowledge, and my ability is but of little service, and because I am a great lover of this element, which I have considered more deeply than other matters. For many and deep secrets must necessarily be found in all those things which have been created by so great and wise a God, and hence we may gain much benefit from considering them, just as they do who understand them. So I believe that the very smallest creature which God has made, even the smallest ant, contains in it much more than we generally imagine. Now these two cisterns are supplied with water in different ways, the one from a distance by several pipes and with great skill, and the other is filled by the very rising of the water without any noise at all. If the source be abundant, as that is of which we are speaking, it sends forth a great stream after it has filled the cistern. Here pipes laid by art are needless, since the water never fails, but runs continually. You see here the difference, for the water which comes through pipes resembles, in my opinion, the tenderness and pleasure spoken of before, which we draw through our meditation. For these we draw from our thoughts, by the help of creatures in the meditation, and by tiring the understanding. In a word, as they are obtained by our diligence, they make a noise when we are filled with the benefits which, as I said, they cause in the soul. To the other cistern the water comes from its proper source, which is God, and thus, when His Majesty wills, and is pleased to bestow some supernatural favor, He produces it with excessive and most abundant peace, quiet and delight in our interior, without our discovering whence or how it comes. Neither are this joy and delight felt in the heart, as the joys of the world are. I mean, they are not felt at first, but afterwards every part is filled, and the water goes through all the mansions and powers, till it reaches even to the body. And therefore I said that it begins in God and ends in ourselves, because the whole exterior man, as those will find who have experienced this, enjoys this pleasure and sweetness. While I am now writing these words, I am thinking of the above mentioned verse, Thou hast dilated my heart, dilataste cor meum. He says, he has dilated the heart. It does not seem to me, as I said, that it is a thing which takes its rise from the heart, but from some other more interior part, as a profound deep. I think it must be the center of the soul, as I afterwards understood, and as I shall explain more in detail, for I discover indeed such wonderful secrets within us, as often to astonish me. But how many more are? Oh my Lord and my God, how wonderful is Thy greatness! Yet here we live, like so many silly swains, imagining we have attained some knowledge of Thee, and yet it is indeed as nothing, for even in ourselves there are great secrets, which we do not understand. I say, as nothing, when compared with the treasures found in Thee, though even from Thy works we discover very sublime greatnesses respecting Thee. Turning then to this verse, I think that which will suit my purpose best is this dilation. When this heavenly water begins to rise from the source I spoke of, in the inmost recess of the soul, our whole interior seems to be enlarging and dilating, and producing certain delights which cannot be expressed. Neither can the soul understand what this is which is here given to her. A certain fragrance is diffused, as if, I may say so, some odiferous perfumes were cast into a brazier, without any light being seen, or the place whence the odor comes. But the heat and delicious scent pass through the soul, and very frequently, as I have said, the body shares in this delight. See that you properly understand me, for neither is any heat felt nor smell perceived, since it is something more subtle than these. I speak thus to make you understand me. Let those persons who have not experienced these things know that this is the truth, that it is understood, and that the soul understands it more clearly than I now mention it. This is not a thing that can be imagined, since with all our diligence we cannot acquire it. Hence, it is manifest that it is not of our own coin, but of the purest gold of divine wisdom. Here the powers, in my opinion, are not united, but absorbed and astonished, as it were with the wonders they behold. It is possible that in treating of these interior subjects, I may in some way contradict what I have said elsewhere, and no wonder, for it is about fifteen years since I wrote the book, and perhaps our Lord has now given me clearer insight into these things than He did then. Both now and then I have made mistakes in everything, but I cannot tell an untruth, for by the divine grace I would rather suffer a thousand deaths. I speak on what I understand. The will clearly seems to me to be united in some way with that of God, but these truths of prayer are best known afterwards by their effects, for there is no better crucible to try them by. Our Lord bestows a very great favor if He who receives these gifts should understand them. It is an extraordinary favor if He should not return back. You, my daughters, wish immediately to be possessed of this prayer, and with reason since the soul without, as I have said, is never able to understand the favors which our Lord bestows upon her here, and with what affection. He attracts her nearer and nearer to Himself. It is certain that she desires to know how this favor is obtained. I will tell you what I have learned regarding it. Let us submit when our Lord is pleased to bestow it, since His Majesty wills it so, and not otherwise. Our Lord knows why. Let us not trouble ourselves concerning this. Whatever we have done what those in the preceding mansions do, let us practice humility. Humility is the virtue by which our Lord suffers Himself to be overcome, and to grant us whatever we desire of Him. The first mark by which you may discover whether you possess this virtue is, to think yourselves unworthy of these favors and delights from our Lord, nay, that you do not deserve to have them at all during your life. You may ask me, how are these things to be obtained if we are not to seek after them? I answer, there is no better means than that which I have mentioned, and we should not seek them for the following reasons. First, because the chief thing which is necessary for this object is to love God without interest. Secondly, because it shows a little want of humility, that we should imagine we can obtain such a great favor by our miserable services. Thirdly, because the true and most proper preparation for this object is a desire for suffering and imitating our Lord, and not for having delights, since we have offended Him so much. Fourthly, because His Majesty is not bound to give them to us, as He is to give us eternal glory, if we observe His commandments. For we may be saved without these delights, and He knows better than we do what is the fittest for us, and for those who truly love Him. What I say is indeed true. I know some who proceed as they ought, by the way of love, in order solely to serve Jesus Christ crucified, who not only do not ask Him for delights, nor desire them, but they beg of Him not to bestow them in this life. This is the truth. Fifthly, because we should only labor in vain, for as this water does not pass through pipes like the former, unless the spring supplies it, all our labor will be of little use. I may say that with all our meditation and all our struggles and tears, this water will not come, for it is bestowed only on Him to whom God shall please to give it, and often when the soul thinks the least about it. We are His sisters. Let Him do with us as He pleases, and lead us whatever way He wills. I firmly believe that whoever will truly humble and annihilate themselves. I say truly because we must not act according to our fancy, which often deceives us, but I mean we should be wholly disengaged from everything. Our Lord will not fail to bestow this, and many other favors upon them, which we know not how to desire. May He be praised and blessed forever. Amen. End of the Fourth Mansion, Chapter 2. The Fourth Mansion, Chapter 3 of the Interior Castle. 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 Interior Castle, or the Mansions, by St. Teresa of Avila, translated by the Reverend John Dalton. The Fourth Mansion, Chapter 3. The Saint explains what is meant by the Prayer of Recollection, and she describes its effects. The effects of this prayer are many, some of which I will now mention. And first there is another kind of prayer, which commences almost always before this, whereof I will say but little, having spoken of it elsewhere. It is the Prayer of Recollection, which also seems to me to be supernatural, for it does not require being in the dark, nor to shut the eyes, nor does it consist in any exterior thing. It often happens that without our wishing it, our eyes close, and we desire solitude, and without any contrivance, a building seems to be erected for the prayer mentioned above. For the senses and external things seem to lose their hold, so that the soul may recover hers, which was lost. They say the soul enters within herself, and sometimes that she ascends above herself. By these expressions I shall not be able to explain anything, for I have this unhappiness in thinking you will understand me best according to the way I can express myself. Perhaps no one except myself will understand. Let us imagine that the senses and faculties, which I call the guards of the castle, and this is the comparison I made use of, whereby to explain my meaning, have gone out and associated with strangers, who wish evil to this castle for some days and years. In other words, perceiving themselves lost and sensible of their ruin, they endeavor to return and approach the castle, though not resolved to enter it, for habit is a hard master. Yet they are no longer traitors, for they remain around the environs. The great king who is within the castle, perceiving their good inclination, in his mercy is willing to pardon them, and like a good shepherd acts towards his sheep, he makes them know his voice by so sweet a whistle, that they themselves can scarcely hear it. This he does that they may not wander and be lost, but return to their mansion. This whistle of the shepherd has such power, that they immediately abandon all those external things which deceive them, and hasten into the castle. Me thinks I never explain myself in the way I have now, for in order to see God in our interior, where he is found with more profit than in creatures, St. Augustine tells us he found him there, after having sought him in several places. It is a great help if God should bestow this favor upon us. Think not that this is acquired by means of the understanding, laboring to consider God within itself. It is good, and an excellent method of meditation, for it is founded on this truth, these, that God is within us. But this is not what I mean, because everyone may do this by the assistance of our Lord. What I speak of is of a different nature. For sometimes these persons, before they begin to think of God, have already got into the castle. By what way I know not, nor how they heard the whistle of their shepherd. It was not by means of their ears, since nothing is heard, but a sweet recollection in the interior is clearly perceived, as those who go along this way will find. I know not how to express my meaning better. I think I have heard this compared to a tortoise retiring within itself. Whoever made use of this comparison, no doubt understood it well. But these creatures enter into themselves whenever they please. Here, however, it is not the case. For the recollection of which I am speaking is only in our power when God is pleased to bestow this favor upon us. I think that whenever His Majesty bestows it, He gives it to such only as are already disengaged from the things of this world. I do not say that they are actually so, but perhaps their state will not allow it, but they are so in their affections and desires, since He so especially invites them to attend to interior things. Hence I believe that we are to give ourselves up entirely to His Majesty. He would bestow not only this, but many other gifts on those whom He begins to call to hire things. Let Him praise God greatly. Whoever shall experience this in himself, for it is very proper he should understand the favor and give thanks for it, that so he may dispose himself for others which are greater. The disposition which will prepare us for this is to listen attentively to whatever our Lord shall speak to us interiorly, as some books advise and direct us, not to seek after discourse, but to attend to whatever God shall work in the soul. Though unless His Majesty begin to give us raptures, I cannot understand how the thought can be restrained, but that this is likely to do us more harm than good. Though this is a question frequently discussed among some spiritual persons, for my part I confess my want of humility, for they have never given me sufficient reason to incline me to their opinion. One person mentioned to me a certain book of the Holy Friar, Peter of Alcantara, and he is one to whom I am sure I should submit, for I know he understood this. On reading the book, we found he said the same as I did, though not in the same words. But we may collect from what he said, that our love is still to be kept awake. It is possible I may still deceive myself, but I rely upon these reasons. Firstly, that in this work of the Spirit, he who thinks and desires to do less, does more. All we have to do is to ask, like some poor persons before some great and rich emperor, and immediately let us cast down our eyes and wait with humility. And when, by his secret ways, it seems that he hears us, then it is good to be silent, since he permits us to stand near him. And it will not be amiss to forebear working with the understanding I say, if we can. But if we perceive this king has not hurt us, nor that he pays any regard to us, we must stand like doltes, for the soul only remains so when she herself procures this. Then she remains much colder, and perhaps the imagination becomes more restless, by the violence which is offered to it in our thinking on nothing. Our Lord wishes we should ask him, and that we should remember we are in his presence, who knows well what is best for us. I cannot persuade myself that human industry is of any avail in such things as his majesty has placed bounds to, and has wished to reserve to himself. This he has not done in many other things that are in our power, provided he assists us, such as in penance, prayer, and other good works, as far as our misery is able to go. The second reason is, because these internal works are all sweet and peaceable, whereas to do things painful, I mean by painful, any violence done to ourselves such as holding our breath, rather hurts than helps us. But the soul must leave herself entirely in the hands of God, to do with her whatever he pleases, without her taking any care about her own interest, at least as little as possible, and totally resigning herself to the will of God. Thirdly, because the same care which is employed for thinking on nothing, will perhaps excite the imagination to think much. Fourthly, because the most pleasing and substantial service we can do for God is, to have only his honor and glory in view, and to forget ourselves, our own benefit, delight, and pleasure. How does he forget himself, who uses so much care that he does not dare to stir nor breathe, nor lets his understanding and desires move him, to wish God's greater glory, nor does he rejoice at what he already possesses? When his majesty wishes the understanding to leave off discursing, he employs it in another way, and gives it a light and knowledge so far above what we can arrive at, that he makes it to remain absorbed, and then, without our knowing how, it is much better instructed than it would be with all our diligence, which may rather do it more harm, and mislead it. For as God has given us faculties that we may work with, and everything has its reward, we need not charm them, but let them do their office till God shall advance them to something better. That which I think the most proper for the soul to do, which God has been pleased to raise to this mansion, is what I have already said. We should likewise endeavor, without violence or noise, to keep the understanding from discursing, but not suspend it, nor the imagination either. Yet it is good to remember that it is in presence of God, and who this God is. If what it feels is the cause of suspending it, well and good. But let it not try to understand what this is, for as it is bestowed on the will, let her enjoy it without using any industry. Let her do nothing, except only to utter certain amorous expressions. For though we strive here not to be without thinking on nothing, yet often we are so, though it may be only for a very short time. But as I have mentioned elsewhere, the reason why, in this kind of prayer, the understanding ceases to discourse, is this I speak of, that wherewith I began this mansion, to which I have likewise added that of recollection, of which I was to speak first, and which is much inferior to that which I have called the prayer of divine delight, but it is the commencement towards arriving at it, for in that of the recollection, neither meditation nor the operation of the understanding should be omitted. The reason is, because in this kind of prayer, the delights rise immediately from the source without being conveyed in pipes, or the understanding spends itself in considering that it does not understand what it desires, hence it goes up and down like one mad, and rests upon nothing. The will is so fixed upon her God, that the restlessness of the understanding greatly afflicts her. Therefore, she must not heed it, for it makes her lose much of that which she enjoys. Let it alone, and let her throw herself into the arms of love, for his majesty will teach her what she is to do on that occasion. This consists almost entirely in considering herself unworthy of so great a favor, and employing herself in giving thanks. Through speaking of the prayer of recollection, I have been prevented from mentioning the effects on signs found in souls, to whom our Lord gives this prayer. This is clearly perceived in enlargement, or dilation in the soul. Just the same as if water that flows from a spring into a cistern should have no passage out of it, but the cistern was made in such a way that the more the water comes in, the greater and wider does the vessel become to contain the water. And so it seems to be in this prayer, whereby God works many other wonders in the soul, and thus disposes her further still for containing all. This sweetness and interior enlargement are manifested by what remains in her afterwards, for she is not so restrained, as formerly she was, in matters relating to the service of God, but she enjoys much more liberty. Neither is she distressed through the fear of hell, for though she feels greater fear now for having offended God, yet she is free from servile fear, and has a great confidence that she shall enjoy him. The fear she used to have of losing her health by doing penance has now ceased, and she thinks she can do all in God, as she has greater desires of using austerities than ever. The fear of afflictions likewise, which she used to have, is now more moderate, because she has a more lively faith, for she knows that if she bears them for God's sake, his majesty will give her grace to bear them with patience. Nay, sometimes she desires them, since she has a great desire to do something for God, and as she now understands his greatness better, she accordingly esteems herself more vile. Having likewise tried the delights of God, she finds those of the world but dung in comparison. She separates herself from them by little and little, and for doing this she has more command over herself. In a word, she has improved in all virtues and will not fail to go on increasing, unless she should relapse and offend God again, for then all is lost. However highly raised the soul may have been in virtue and contemplation. We must not suppose that when God bestows this favor once or twice, the above mentioned effects will always remain in her, unless she continue to receive the light favors, for herein all our good consists. There is one point to which I earnestly wish to draw the attention of him who finds himself in this state. It is this, to be extremely careful not to expose himself to the occasions of offending God. For the soul in this state has not strength enough, but it is like an infant beginning to suck. For should it leave the mother's breast? What can be expected but death? I have great fears lest the like should happen to him on whom God shall bestow this favor. If he should leave off prayer, unless it be on some very particular occasion, or provided he returned to it quickly, for otherwise he will go on from bad to worse. I know there is great reason to fear in this case, and I know some whom I pity much, for I have seen this happen to them of which I am speaking. When they forsook him who so ardently desired to become their friend, and to prove himself such by his actions, I thus warn them beforehand to avoid the occasions, because the devil labors much more against one such soul, than against many others on whom our Lord does not bestow such favors. Because they may do him much more harm by drawing others after them, who may do great service to the church of God. And were there nothing else but to see how his majesty shows a particular affection for them, this would be enough to induce him to do his utmost for their destruction, and thus they are furiously attacked by him. And if once conquered, they are more deeply ruined than others. You, my sisters, are free as far as can be seen from these dangers. May God preserve you from pride and vain glory, and permit not the devil to counterfeit these favors, which may be known by not having these effects. But all are quite the contrary. I wish to warn you of one danger, though I have alluded to it in another place. It is one into which I have observed persons fall who are given to prayer, and women especially, who, being weaker, have more need of the caution I wish to give here. It is this, that some persons being weakened with severe penances, prayers, or watchings, or having naturally a weak constitution, swoon away on receiving some of these consolations, and their nature fails them. And when they perceive some internal delight, with a certain external decay and languishing, or when a spiritual sleep, as it is called, happens, which is somewhat more than the above mentioned. They mistake the one for the other, and allow themselves to be absorbed. And, in the meantime, the more they yield, the more are they absorbed. Because their nature becomes weaker, and in their idea it seems to be a rapture. But I call it a stupidity, for it is nothing else but losing our time and destroying our health. A certain person continued eight hours together in this way without sense, or without any perception of divine things. But, by being made to sleep and eat, and in discreet penances being forbidden her, she was cured of this distemper. For there was one who knew the person well, though she had deceived her confessor, and several others, and herself too, yet without any intention of deceiving. I believe that the devil used some diligence to draw some profit thence, and he began to gain a great deal thereby. We must notice that when this truly comes from God, though there may be an interior and exterior languishing, yet it is not in the soul, which feels strong emotions on seeing herself so near to God. Besides, this continues only for a very short time. It returns however again, and is absorbed, and if, as I said, there be not weakness in this prayer, the suspension is not so great as to enfeeble the body, or to cause any external alteration in it. Be sure then, when you find yourselves thus affected, to acquaint the superiors, and take as much recreation as possible, and let her not give you so many hours of prayer, but very few. She should also make you sleep and eat enough, till your usual strength shall return, in case you should have lost it thereby. But if anyone's constitution be so weak that this is not sufficient for her, believe me that God wishes her to be only in the act of life, for there must be monasteries for all kinds of persons. Let them employ her in business, and be always careful that she never be left alone, for if she be, she will completely ruin her health. This will be a great mortification to her. Here our Lord will try her love for him, by observing how she bears his absence. After some time he may perhaps be pleased to restore her strength, but if not, she will gain by vocal prayer, and by obedience what she would have obtained this way, and perhaps she may gain more. Some may likewise be found of such a weak mind and imagination. I have known some such that they think they see all they fancy. This is very dangerous. But as I may hear after say something more on this subject, I will say no more here, as I have dwelt so much on this mansion into which I think more souls enter, and where the devil may do more harm, because the natural and supernatural are often found united. For in the following mansions our Lord does not give him such power. May he be praised forever. End of the fourth mansion, chapter 3. The fifth mansion, chapter 1, of the interior castle. 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 interior castle, or the mansions, by Saint Teresa of Avila, translated by the Reverend John Dalton. The fifth mansion, chapter 1. The saint begins to explain how the soul unites herself with God in prayer, etc. Oh my sisters, how shall I be able to explain to you the riches, treasures, and delights which are contained in these fifth mansions? I think it better to say nothing respecting those delights which I have not yet mentioned, since it is impossible to be able to express them. Neither can the understanding comprehend them, nor are comparisons of any use in explaining them, since earthly things are too mean for this purpose. Oh my lord, send light from heaven, that I may be able to enlighten these thy servants, since thou art pleased that some of them should enjoy these delights. Enlighten some of them that they may not be deceived by the devil, who transforms himself into an angel of light, for their desire is to please thee. Though I said some of them, yet many of them enter these mansions, of which I am now about to speak, some more and some less, and therefore I say that the greater part enter them, but I believe that few attain some of these delights, which I shall mention here, and which are to be found in this mansion. But if they should reach only the gate, that is a great favor which our lord shows them, for although many are called, yet few are chosen. And so I say now that although we all wear this sacred habit of Carmel, and are all called to prayer and contemplation, because this was our rule in the beginning, which those holy fathers of Mount Carmel drew up, who purchased this treasure and this precious jewel which we now speak of, by such great solitude and contempt of this world, yet few of us dispose ourselves that so our lord may discover this jewel to us. For though as regards our exterior, we go on well at present, yet in order to obtain what is necessary in the way of virtue, we must not be negligent in anything, for we stand in need of great virtue. Let us then, my sisters, earnestly beseech our lord, that since we may in some degree enjoy heaven upon earth, he would grant us his grace, and show us the way, lest through our own fault we miss it, and that he would give strength to our soul, to enable us to dig till we find this hidden treasure, which is certainly within us. This I should wish to explain if our lord be pleased to enable me. I said, strength to the soul, in order that you may know that, as regards bodily strength, there is no obstacle to one on whom our lord does not bestow it. No one is prevented from purchasing his wealth. If one give what he has, God is content. Blessed be so great a being. But consider daughters that in order to obtain this object of which we are speaking, he does not wish you to keep anything back, less or more. He will have all for himself, and in proportion to what you know you have given, he bestows greater or less favors upon you. There is no better proof than this, for discovering whether we have arrived at the prayer of union or not. Think not that here is a dream like the former. I say a dream because there the soul seems to be as it were asleep, though she seems neither fast asleep nor yet quite awake. Here, however, she is thoroughly awake to God, though fast asleep as to worldly things and to ourselves. For in truth, during the short time that this lasts, she is almost senseless and unable to think on anything, even if she wished. No art is necessary to suspend the imagination. Indeed, if she loves, she does not understand how she loves, nor what it is she loves, nor what she wishes to have. In a word, she is like one entirely dead to the world. In order to live the more in God, and this is a pleasant death, a death because it is a loosening of the soul from all the operations which it can exercise while in the body, it is a pleasant death because though she be truly in the body, yet she seems to be separated from it, in order to abide the better in God, this is in such a manner that I know not whether she have even life enough to breathe. I was thinking on it, and it seems to me there was not enough. At least if she do breathe, she does not perceive it. All her understanding would wish to be employed in knowing something of what she feels, but as strength is not sufficient for this, she remains so astonished that if she be not quite absorbed, she neither stirs hand or foot, as we say of one who swoons away in such a manner that we think he is dead. Oh, wonderful secrets of God, I should never be satisfied with endeavoring to make them understood if I thought I should succeed, and thus I will say a thousand foolish things provided I may happen but once to speak to the point so that we may praise our Lord exceedingly. I said it was not a dream for in the preceding mansions, until her experience is great, she remains doubtful of that which happens to her, whether she had desires, whether she was asleep, whether it came from God or whether the devil transformed himself into an angel of light. In a word, she has a thousand suspicions, and it is well she has them, since, as I have said, our nature itself may deceive us here sometimes, for though venomous animals have not such easy access, yet little lizards may get in, and being small they insinuate themselves everywhere, and although they do no harm, especially if, as I said, they be despised. These are little fancies which come from the imagination, and for what has been mentioned above, yet they are often very troublesome, but these lizards, however small, cannot enter, because here there is no imagination, nor memory, nor understanding, that can hinder this good. I dare venture to assert that if the union truly come from God, the devil cannot enter or do any harm, because our Lord is joined and united with the essence of the soul, so that he, the devil, dare not approach. Nor can he understand this secret, for it is clear he does not know our thoughts, much less can he understand so profound a secret. This applies to the acts of the understanding and the will, for the devil clearly sees the thoughts of the imagination, unless our Lord blind him at that moment. Oh, blessed state in which this cursed one cannot hurt us. Thus the soul becomes a very great gainer, because God works in her, without anyone, even herself, being able to hinder him, and what then will he not give, who is so willing and desirous of giving, and who can do whatever he wills? Me thinks I have thrown you into some confusion by saying, if the union be from God, as if there were other unions, and so there are, though they be about vain things, such as when we love them much, and then the devil transports such lovers out of themselves, but not in the way that God does, nor with the same delight, satisfaction, peace, and joy of the soul. It is a joy surpassing all the joys of the world, all its delights, all its pleasures. And yet further, we need only observe once these joys come, and once those of the world, for they produce very different feelings, as you will find by experience. I have said somewhere that the one resembles the touching of the skin or surface of the body, but the other pierces the very marrow. I spoke rightly, and I know not how to express myself better. It seems to me you are not yet satisfied, because you imagine you may be deceived, as it is a difficult matter to examine the interior. Although, therefore, what has been said may be sufficient for one who has experienced the like, the difference being so great. Yet I wish to give you a clear proof by which you may be certain whether it comes from God, for His Majesty has this day brought the proof to my mind, and it seems a sure one. In difficult matters, though I think I understand them and speak the truth, I always use these words. It seems to me, for if I should be mistaken, I may be the more willing and ready to believe what learned men tell me, and though they themselves have not experienced these matters, yet they have great weight, because they are great scholars. As God considers them so many lights in His Church, He discovers the truth of things to them in order that they may admit them, and if they be not immoral persons, but servants of God, they are never astonished at His greatness, because they know that His power is able to do still greater wonders. In a word, though some things be not declared, they will certainly find others written, whereby they may see that these also can be done. In this respect, I have great experience, and likewise I have known certain half-learned, timorous, and jealous persons who have cost me very dear. At least, I think that whoever believes not that God can do much more, and that He has been pleased, and is still pleased sometimes to reveal Himself to His creatures, such a person keeps the gate closely shut against receiving any favors Himself. Never let this happen to you, my sisters, but believe that God can do much more, and do not trouble yourselves, whether they on whom He bestows these favors be good or bad. For this, as I have said, His Majesty knows. We must not meddle with this, but with humility and simplicity of heart, let us serve His Majesty, and praise Him for His works and wonders. To return now to the proof which I said was certain, you see that God makes this soul quite stupid in order to imprint the deeper in her true wisdom. Hence, she neither sees nor heeds nor understands, nor perceives all the time she is in this state, and this time is short, and indeed it seems to her shorter than it is. God so fixes Himself in the interior of this soul, that when she comes to herself, she cannot but believe she was in God, and that God was in her. This truth is so deeply rooted in her, that though many years may pass away before God bestows the like favor upon her, she never forgets it. Not to dwell on the effects left in her, of which I shall speak afterwards, because it is a point of great importance. But you will ask me how the soul saw it or understood it. I answer, she did not see it then, but afterwards she sees it clearly, and this is not so much a vision as a certitude which remains in the soul, and which God only can infuse into her. I was acquainted with a certain person who did not know that God was in all things by His presence, power, and essence. But by a favor of this kind received from God, she came to believe it so firmly that though one of those half-learned men of whom I have spoken, and whom she asked how God was in us, and he knew as little of this truth as she did, before God made her understand it, answered that he was there only by His grace, yet the truth was so imprinted in her that she did not believe him. She afterwards asked others and they, telling her the truth, comforted her exceedingly. But you must not be led into a mistake by imagining that this certainty remains in a corporeal form, just like the certainty whereby we believe the body of our Lord Jesus Christ to be in the most holy sacrament, though we do not see it. He is not in this way here, but only by His divinity. But how can that have a certainty which we see not? I do not know. It is His work, but I know that what I say is true, and whoever has not this certainty, I should say it was not a union of the soul with God, but of some faculty or some other of the many kinds of favor which God bestows upon the soul. In all these things we must not seek to know the reasons for seeing how they are done, since our understanding cannot comprehend them. Why then should we desire to labor in vain and to trouble ourselves about it? It is enough to know that He who is all-powerful has done it. With regard to what I was saying, that here we can do nothing. I remember what I have heard the spouse say in the canticles, he brought me into the cellar of wine. She says not, she went there. She says likewise that she went seeking her beloved here and there. This union I consider as the cellar where our Lord places us, when and how He pleases, but we can never enter by our own diligence. His majesty must bring us in, and enter himself into the center of our soul, without passing in through any gate, just as he came among his disciples, when he said to them, Peace be with you, and when he rose from the supple curve without lifting the stone. In order to show his wonders the more, he does not wish us to contribute anything, but to subject our will entirely to his. Neither does he expect that the gate of the powers and senses, which are all asleep, should be open for him. You will see afterwards how his majesty is pleased to allow the soul to enjoy him more in her very center, than she does here in this last mansion. Oh, my daughters, what great things shall we see, if we wish to look upon nothing else but our own baseness and misery, and if we consider how unworthy we are to be servants of so great a Lord, whose wonders exceed all comprehension. May he be eternally praised. Amen. End of the Fifth Mansion, Chapter 1 The Fifth Mansion, Chapter 2 of the Interior Castle. 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 Interior Castle, or the Mansions, by Saint Teresa of Avila, translated by the Reverend John Dalton. The Fifth Mansion, Chapter 2. She continues the same discourse and illustrates the prayer of union by a comparison. You may imagine that I have already mentioned what is to be seen in this mansion, and yet much more remains to be said. For, as I have mentioned, there is more or less yet remaining. As regards union, I think I can add nothing more. But when a soul on whom God bestows these favors disposes herself, there are many things to be said about that which God works in her. Some of these I will mention and also say something respecting the state the soul is in. To make the subject better understood, I shall make use of a comparison proper for the purpose, in order that we may see how, though in this work which our Lord himself does, we can do nothing. Yet by our disposing ourselves, we may contribute much to induce His Majesty to bestow this favor upon us. You have already heard of His wonders in the making of silk, for only He could be the author of such an invention. And how from a seed no bigger than little peppercorns, this seed, when the mulberry trees first send out leaves, begins to quicken with the heat, while it was as it were dead, till this nourishment whereupon it lives appeared. Thus certain little worms feed on mulberry leaves, till afterwards they become bigger, and then on the boughs they go spinning silk with their little mouths, and making little cells very close in which they are enclosed. From this cell or bag, which contains a large but ugly worm that dies, there afterwards rises a white and very beautiful butterfly. Who could believe this if we had not seen it, and it was related to us as being the case in other times or countries? Or by what reason can we comprehend that a creature so void of reason as a silk worm or a bee should be so diligent and so industrious in toiling for our benefit? The poor little worm loses its life in this work. This may serve you sisters as a meditation for some time, without my saying any more to you, for by means of it you may have some idea of the wonders and wisdom of our God. What then should we do? Did we understand the properties of all things? It is a great advantage to us to be occupied in meditating on these wonders, and in rejoicing that we are the spouses of so wise and powerful a king. But let us return to what I was saying, and apply the comparison I have mentioned to ourselves. This worm then begins to have life, when by warmth from the Holy Spirit it begins to make use of that general assistance which our Lord gives to everyone, and to take advantage of the remedies which God has left in his church, both by frequenting the sacraments and reading good books and hearing sermons. For these are powerful remedies for a soul that is dead by its negligence and sins, and is plunged into the occasions of sin. Then this worm begins to live, and hereby it supports itself with good meditations until it has grown up. This will serve my purpose, for the rest is of little consequence. Now when this worm has grown up, as I said at first, it begins to make silk and to build this house in which it is to die. This house I wish you to understand here is Christ. As St. Paul says, our life is hid with Christ in God, and that Christ is our life. You see here then, daughters, what we can do by God's assistance. Since His Majesty Himself becomes our habitation, as He is in this prayer of union, and we ourselves erect the habitation. I seem to say we are able to take from or to add to God, because I say He is a habitation, and that we may erect it for our own abode. But the truth is we can neither subtract from nor add to God, but we can take from and add to ourselves, as these little worms do. For no sooner have we done all we can herein, then God will unite our insignificant labors, which are nothing, with His greatness, and He will give them so high a value that our Lord Himself will be the rewarder of our works. And as He Himself has been put to the greatest expense, so He will unite our trifling sufferings with those immense ones which His Majesty endured, and He will make them all one. Oh then, my daughters, let us quickly perform this work and weave this cell, casting aside all self-love and our own will, and let us not adhere to any earthly thing. Let us perform works of penance, prayer, mortification, obedience, and all the rest as you value. God grant we may act according to our knowledge and the instructions we have received concerning our duty. Let this worm die. Let it die as it does, when it has performed that for which it was created. And you will then perceive how we see God, and we behold ourselves immersed in His greatness, just as the worm is in its cell. Notice how I say we shall see God, as I have mentioned above, that is, as He discovers Himself to us in this kind of union. Now let us consider what becomes of this worm, since for this purpose I have said all this. As soon as in this prayer it becomes sufficiently dead to the world, it comes forth a white butterfly. Oh wonderful greatness of God, how change does the soul come forth by having been only for a short time, never in my opinion, a full half hour, immersed in the greatness of God, and united closely to Him. I tell you the truth, she now does not know herself, for you must remember that there is the same difference here as there is between an ugly worm and a beautiful butterfly. The soul knows not how she could merit so great a favor, or whence it could come. She is so desirous of praising God that she would be willing to annihilate herself and endure a thousand deaths for his sake. She immediately begins to wish to endure great afflictions, and she cannot do otherwise. Her desires of penance, solitude, and of all men knowing God are excessive, and on this account she feels great pain in seeing Him offended. But in the next mansion I shall mention these things more in particular, for the matter in this and the following mansion are almost the same. Though the power of the effects is very different, because as I have said, if a soul, after God has advanced her to this state, should force herself to go forward, she will see great things. Oh, how strange it is to be hold afterwards the restlessness of this butterfly, though in all its life it was never more at ease nor more calm. This is an occasion of praising our Lord, that it knows not where to rest nor to settle, and having before enjoyed such repose, it is disgusted with all that it sees on earth, especially when God often allows it to drink of this wine. It gains more and more almost every time. Now it no more esteems the works which it used to do when a worm, these, forming itself by little and little. Its wings have now grown. How then, as it is able to fly, can it take the pleasure in creeping along? All it can do for God seems little in proportion to its desires. It does not wonder much at what the saints did and suffered, because it now understands by experience how our Lord assists and transforms a soul in such a way that she does not seem the same, nor to be the same shape. Because the weakness which she seemed to have before in doing penance, she perceives is now no more, but has become strong. The ties which bind her to her friend's relations or estate, which, when she was desirous of leaving, neither acts nor resolutions were sufficient to remove, are now entirely broken in such a manner that she is displeased to be obliged to do what is barely necessary in this respect, lest she might seem to be resisting the will of God. Everything tires her, because she has found that creatures cannot give her true repose. I seem to say much, but yet I could say more. Whoever has received this favor from God will clearly perceive that I say little. No wonder then that this butterfly seeks out some new repose, because it finds itself a new creature as regards the things of this world. Where then will the poor little creature go now? Return whence it came? It cannot, for it is not in our power, until God be pleased again to bestow this favor upon us. Oh Lord, what fresh troubles begin for this soul? And who could imagine this after such sublime favors have been received? In a word, either one way or the other, must we bear the cross as long as we live. Should anyone say that having arrived there, he always enjoys rest and delight, I would answer. He never reached so far, but that if ever he entered the former mansion it was perhaps some delight caused by natural weakness and perhaps by the devil, who sometimes gives us a certain peace in order to raise afterwards a more terrible war. I do not say that they who arrive at this mansion have no peace, for their very afflictions are of such value and so deeply rooted that from them come peace and content. From this same disgust which earthly things cause, such a painful desire arises of leaving this world, that if anything can allay it, it is the consideration that it is God's wish they should live in this land of exile. But this is not sufficient for notwithstanding all these favors and benefits. The soul is not so resigned to the will of God as it is afterwards. Still, it does not fail to be resigned, though it is with great pain, for she is unable to act otherwise, as no more is given to her. And every time she prays, her grief is accompanied with many tears. This pain seems perhaps to arise in some degree from being exceedingly troubled on beholding God offended and so little esteemed in this world and at the destruction of so many souls, heretics as well as infidels. But Christians excite her compassion the most. And though she sees the mercy of God is great and that however wickedly they live, they may repent and be saved, yet she is afraid that many are lost. Oh, greatness of God, how a few years since, and perhaps only a few days, this soul remembered no one but herself, and who has now placed her in such tormenting cares which so many years of meditation cannot make her so sensible of, as she is now sensible of them. But, oh, my Lord, if I should endeavor during many days and years to exercise myself in thinking on the great evil there is in God being offended, how those who are lost are his children and my brethren on the dangers in the midst of which we live, and how well it would be for us if we were out of this miserable life, would not all these considerations cause this pain within me? No, daughters, no. This is not the pain which is felt here, for by the assistance of our Lord we may, by often thinking on these things, conceive a deep sorrow. But it does not penetrate nor reach the inmost part of the soul. Like this I have been speaking about here, which seems to grind a soul to powder, without her procuring such a state, or even sometimes without her wishing it. What is this, once it comes? I will tell you. Do you not remember what I said regarding the spouse, though on another subject, that God took her into the wine cellar and set in order charity in her? The same happens here, for this soul having entirely resigned herself into his hands. The greatness of his love has so captivated her, that she neither knows nor desires anything except that God would dispose of her as he pleases. As far as I understand, God will never confer this favor on any soul except upon such as he chooses for his own. He is pleased, without her knowing how, that she should depart hence, signed with his seal. For here the soul does indeed know more than the wax when a seal is imprinted on it. For the wax cannot seal itself, but is only disposed. That is, it is soft. Nor does it soften itself for this object. It lies still, and allows the impression to be made. Oh, goodness of God, all is at thy cost. Thou requirest only our will, and that there should be no resistance in the wax. You see, then, sisters, what our God does here for us, that this soul may already know she is his. He gives her what she has, these, the very same that his son had in this life, which is indeed an exceedingly great favor. Whoever desired more to leave this life than he did, so spoke he at the supper. With desire I have desired, but my Lord, did not that sorrowful death, which thou wert to suffer so painfully, present itself before thine eyes? No, for the immense love and desire I had to some souls exceeded without comparison those torments, and the many which I have already endured, and which I still endure, are sufficient to make me consider these as nothing. Often I have thought of this, and knowing what great torments a certain soul known to me has endured, and still endures. By seeing how God is offended, and that soul would rather die than endure it, I considered that if a soul having such little love which, when compared with that of Christ, might be said to be almost none, felt such intolerable pain, what then must Christ our Lord have suffered, and what a life must he have led, having all his sufferings present before him, and always be holding the dreadful crimes which would be committed against his father? I firmly believe these were far greater than those which he endured in his most sacred passion. For then he saw the end of those sorrows, and the joy of seeing our redemption purchased by his death, and of testifying the love he had for his father in suffering so much for him, no doubt lessened his pains. Just as it happens to men in this world who, through the force of love, perform great penances, which they scarcely feel, nay, they would prefer to do still more, for all seems but little to them. What then did his majesty feel when he saw so good an opportunity offered by manifesting to his father his perfect obedience to him, and love for his neighbor? Oh, what a great delight is it to suffer in doing the will of God, but to behold so many offenses continually committed against his majesty, and so many souls condemned to hell is, in my opinion, so dreadful that I believe, had he not been more than man, one day of such torment would have been enough to have put an end to many lives. How much more then to one? End of the Fifth Mansion, Chapter 2 The Fifth Mansion, Chapter 3 of the Interior Castle. 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 Interior Castle, or the Mansions, by Saint Teresa of Avala, translated by the Reverend John Dalton. The Fifth Mansion, Chapter 3. The Saint continues the same discourse and speaks likewise of another kind of union. Let us now return to our little dove and consider some things which God bestows in this state. We should always remember that she must endeavor to advance in the service of our Lord and in the knowledge of herself, for if she received no more than this grace and become careless in her life, as if already secure, and turn out of the road which leads to heaven, these, the commandments, she will become like the worm which comes from a seed in order that other worms may be produced, but it remains dead itself forever. I have said it comes from a seed because I am confident that God will not allow so great a favor to be bestowed in vain. Since the receiver should not be a gainer thereby, it may at least profit others. As he still possesses these virtues and desires mentioned before, as long as he perseveres in them he will always do good to other souls by warming them with his heat. And if he should lose it, still he continues in the desire that other souls may be benefited, and he delights to make known the graces and favors which God bestows on those who love and serve him. I know a person who is exactly in this disposition, though she was almost lost, yet she delighted in being the means of others receiving profit by the favors God had bestowed upon her. She also taught the method of prayer to those who were not acquainted with it, and she did great good. Our Lord in his mercy afterwards gave her light. For, in truth, she had not as yet experienced the effects mentioned above. But how many are there whom God calls to the apostleship, as he called Judas, and to whom he communicates himself? How many does he call to a crown, like he called Saul, and who nevertheless afterwards perished through their own fault? Hence, sisters, let us draw the conclusion that in order to gain more merit and not to be lost like they were, we can have no other security than obedience and a resolution not to transgress the law of God. I speak to those on whom he bestows such favors, and likewise to all persons. It seems to me that, after all I have said, this mansion yet appears somewhat obscure. But since so much is to be gained by entering into it, it is good for those on whom God does not bestow supernatural favors, not to consider themselves without hope. Since by our Lord's assistance, a true union may easily be obtained. If we endeavor to procure it by having our will united only with God's will. Oh, how many of us can say this, that we desire nothing else and would die for this truth, as I think I have already said? I now tell you that when this is the case, we have obtained this favor of our Lord. Be not anxious about that other sweet union, which I spoke about before, since whatever is most valuable in that comes from this, of which I am now speaking. Oh, what a desirable union is this. Happy the soul which has obtained it. She will live with comfort in this life, and none of the evils of this life will trouble her, unless it be from some fear of losing God, or of seeing Him offended. Neither sickness nor poverty, nor the death of anyone can disturb her, except it be the death of one which God's church might miss. Such a soul sees clearly that our Lord knows better what to do, than she knows what she desires. You must remember that there are pains directly produced by nature and by charity, which move us to compassionate our neighbors, just as our Lord felt when He raised Lazarus. Our being united with God's will does not remove these sorrows, though they do not disturb the soul with a restless, distressing passion. They quickly pass away, for as I mentioned when speaking of the delights in prayer, they do not reach the interior part of the soul, but only the senses and faculties. They are felt in the former mansions, but not in these latter of which I am now speaking. In order then to attain this kind of union, what has been said about suspending the faculties is not necessary here, for our Lord is able to enrich souls in many ways, and conduct them to these mansions, and not by the short road of which I have already spoken. But carefully notice, daughters, that it is necessary the worm should die, and this is the more to your cost, for in the union mentioned above, the seeing of ourselves in a life so new conduces much in helping you to die. But here, while living in this world, it is necessary we should kill the worm ourselves. I acknowledge this will cost us much more labor, but it has its reward. Hence, if you gain the victory, your recompense will be the greater. There is no doubt respecting its being possible, if there be a real union with the will of God. This is the union which I have desired all my life. This it is which I continually beg of our Lord, for it is the most clear and secure. But alas, how few of us arrive at it, though he who is careful not to offend God, and has entered into religion, imagines he has done everything. Oh how many worms remain undiscovered, until, like that which consumed the plant of Jonas, they have devoured our virtues by self-love, self-esteem, rashly judging our neighbors, though in small things, by want of charity towards others. For although we satisfy the obligation being forced thereto of not committing sin, yet we are far from doing what is required of us, in order to be wholly united with the will of God. What do you think daughters is his will? That we endeavor to be entirely perfect, so as to become one with him and the Father, as his majesty prayed? Observe what is wanting to us in order to arrive at perfection. I tell you I am now riding with great grief, because I see I am so much behind, and all through my own fault. For this object it is not necessary our Lord should caress us with new consolations, because it is sufficient that he has given us his son to teach us the way. Think not that if my father or brother should die, the matter consists in conforming myself to God's will in such a way as not to feel their death, or if sickness and troubles come, then I must bear them cheerfully. This disposition is good, and sometimes it arises from a certain discretion, because as we cannot remedy the matter, we make a virtue of necessity. How many such like things did the philosophers of old by means of their great wisdom? Here there are only two duties which our Lord requires of us, these the love of God and the love of our neighbor. These are the objects we must labor for. By observing these laws perfectly we do his will, and consequently we shall be united with him. But as I have said, how far are we from observing these two duties as we ought to do towards so great a God? May his majesty grant us grace in order that we may deserve to arrive at this state, and this is in our power if we wish. In my opinion, the surest sign for discovering whether we observe these two duties is the love of our neighbor. Since we cannot know whether we love God, though we may have strong proofs of it, but they can be more easily discovered respecting the love of our neighbor, and be assured that the further you advance in that love, the more will you advance in the love of God likewise. For the affection which his majesty has for us is so great that as a return for the love we show our neighbor, he will make that love go on increasing which we have for himself. Of this I have no doubt. It is very important for us diligently to observe how we proceed in this matter. For if we endeavor perfectly to acquire this love of our neighbor, we shall have done everything, because as our nature is corrupt and evil, unless it come from the root which is the love of God, we shall never perfectly possess the love of our neighbor. Since then, sisters, this love is so necessary for us, let us endeavor to know ourselves in small things, and not take much notice of some very great distractions which come crowding upon us in the time of prayer, such as what we should wish to do for our neighbors, and even for the salvation of one's soul. And if actions do not follow conformable to these desires, we have no reason to think we shall perform them. I say the same respecting humility and all other virtues. Great are the wiles of the devil, for he will turn hell upside down a thousand times in order to make us imagine we possess a virtue which in reality we do not. And with reason does the devil act in this way, for thus he affects much mischief, because these counterfeit virtues are always attended with some vain glory, coming from such a source. But on the other hand, those virtues which God gives are free both from pride and vain glory. I am pleased to see certain souls who, when in prayer, seem willing to be despised and publicly insulted for God's sake, yet afterwards they would hide a small defect if they could, or if they have not offended, but yet are accused of something, God deliver us from the clamor they raise. But whoever cannot endure this, let him be careful not to pay any regard to what he has, in his own opinion determined to do, for it was not in reality any real act of the will, because when it is so, it is quite another thing, but it must have been some imagination, whereby the devil makes his attacks and lays his snares, especially for women and unlearned persons, because we cannot understand the difference between the faculties and the imagination and a thousand other interior things. Oh sisters, how clearly can it be discovered which amongst you has really this love of your neighbor, and which of you has it not in such perfection? If you understood the importance of this virtue, you would not trouble yourself about anything else. When I see souls so very careful about being attentive at their prayers, and about understanding them also, so that it seems they dare not so much as stir or divert their thoughts, lest they should lose the little pleasure and devotion they feel in their prayer. I then clearly discover how little they understand the way by which they may arrive at union, because they suppose all the business consists in this. No, sisters, no. Our Lord desires works. If then you see a sister sick whom you can in any way relieve, never fear you will lose your devotion if you sympathize with her. If she be in pain, grieve with her. And if necessary, fast. That so she may have something to eat, not so much for her sake as because our Lord wishes it. This is true union with His will. If you should hear some person praised much, rejoice more at this than if you were praised yourselves. And this indeed is easy, because where there is humility, praise is a torment. But to rejoice when the virtues of the sisters are known is a great matter. And likewise when you discover any defect in them, to feel it as if your own and to discover it. But on this point I have spoken at length elsewhere, because I see that if we fail herein, we are undone. Our Lord grant this may never happen to you. For if you be not wanting in this, I assure you you will certainly obtain from His Majesty the union mentioned above. But when you find yourselves wanting herein, though you may have devotion and delights, and may fancy you have already attained some little suspension in the prayer of quiet, for some will immediately imagine everything is done. Believe me, you have not arrived at union, and beseech your Lord to give you this perfect love of your neighbor. Let His Majesty alone, for He can bestow upon you much more than you can desire. If you force your will to comply with that of the sisters and everything, even though you should lose some of your rights, and if also you should forget your own interest and pleasure in order to accommodate and please them, however much nature may be opposed to it, and when an opportunity presents itself, if you relieve your neighbor of some trouble, and take it on yourself, think not this will not cost you anything. Consider how dearly the love our spouse had for us cost him. For in order to free us from death, he himself suffered the most painful death of the cross. End of the Fifth Mansion Chapter 3 The Fifth Mansion Chapter 4 of the Interior Castle. 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 Interior Castle or the Mansions by St. Teresa of Avila, translated by the Reverend John Dalton. The Fifth Mansion Chapter 4. The St. continues the same subject and enters into some further explanations of prayer, etc. You seem to me to be desirous of knowing what has become of this little dove, and where she rests. Since I told you that she does not rest in spiritual delights, nor in worldly pleasures, but flies higher. But I cannot satisfy your desires till I come to the last mansion. God grant I may remember what I have to say, and have leisure to write it, for it is now five months since I began this book, and as the pains in my head will not allow me to review what I have written, things will probably be repeated twice over. But this is of little consequence, as what I say is intended for my sisters. I am particularly anxious to declare my opinion respecting this prayer of union, and, according to my poor understanding, I will make use of a comparison, and shall afterwards speak more at length of this butterfly, which never lies still, although it continually fructifies and benefits both itself and other souls, because it finds no true rest in itself. Now you have often heard how God is spiritually espoused to souls. Blessed be his mercy, who vouchsafes to humble himself so low. Though this may seem a gross comparison, yet I can find none more proper to express my meaning than the sacrament of matrimony. Though the subject must be treated in a different manner, for being altogether spiritual, it differs much from the other, which is only corporeal. Because here everything is love united with love, and its operations are exceedingly pure, and so sweet, and so delicate that they cannot be described. But our Lord knows how to make us feel them. It seems that this union has not yet arrived at a spiritual espousal. But as in this world, when two persons are thinking of marrying, the first consideration is whether they are suitable, and whether they like each other, and see one another. So here also if consent has already been given, and the soul be fully informed what advantage she will gain thereby, and if she be resolved to do the will of her spouse in everything, then his majesty is willing to take her, while knowing if the soul be so resolved. He also shows her this favor of allowing her to be better acquainted with him, and that they may, as the saying is, come to have an interview with each other, and thus he unites her with himself. We may say that just so is it here, for all is over in a very short time. Here there is no giving or taking. It is only necessary that the soul be made to see, in a secret manner, who is this spouse whom she is to take. For she cannot by any method understand in a thousand years by means of her senses and faculties what she is able to learn here in a very short time. But as he is so loving a spouse, he leaves her by giving her this one sight of him, more worthy of being afterwards united with him, because the soul becomes so enamored with him that she does everything on her part not to break off this divine espousals. But if this soul should grow negligent, and set her affection on something else besides him, then she will lose everything, and her loss will be as great as are the favors which our Lord continues to be stow upon her, and greater far than words can express. Hence then, Christian souls, I speak to those whom our Lord has conducted so far. I beseech you, for his sake, do not become careless, but avoid all occasions of sin. For when the soul is in this state, she is not so strong as to be able to expose herself to them so much as she will be afterwards, when the marriage is concluded. This is the next mansion. There was no further intercourse than seeing each other, and then the devil becomes extremely busy in attacking her, and trying to prevent these nuptials, for afterwards, when he sees that she has already wholly given herself up to her spouse, he dares not become so bold, because he is afraid, having learned by experience that if he should attack her at any time, he frequently suffers great loss, and she gains a great deal. I tell you, daughters, I have known persons very far advanced, and who have arrived at this state, but these the devil afterwards recovered by his wonderful subtlety and stratagems. For this purpose, hell combines together, because, as I have said, the devil loses not one, but many, souls. He has now acquired great experience in this particular, for if we consider the multitude of souls, which by means of only one individual God attracts to himself, we shall find matter of praise and thank him exceedingly. How many thousands did the martyrs convert? How many has one virgin, as Saint Ursula, conducted to heaven? Again, how many souls has the devil lost by means of Saint Dominic, Saint Francis, and other founders of religious orders? All these, as we read in their lives, received the like favors from God, and what was this but that they endeavored not to lose by their own faults so divine and espousals? Oh, my daughters, our Lord is as ready now as he was then to be still favors upon us, and even more, if I may say so, as if he required our being willing to accept them, because he finds so few in these days who have such regard for his honor as they had then. We are too great lovers of ourselves, and we make use of too much human prudence to part with a little of our rights. Oh, how dreadful a delusion is this. May our Lord grant us light not to fall into such darkness through his great mercy. You may ask here or call in question two things. First, if the soul be so intimately united with the will of God, as I have already mentioned, how can she be deceived, since she never desires to do her own will in anything? Secondly, by what ways can the devil enter your soul with such danger as to ruin it? Since you have separated yourselves from the world, frequent the sacraments, and, if I may be allowed the expression, keep company with angels? Through the goodness of our Lord, all of you have no other object, but that of serving him in everything. It is no great wonder for those who are immersed in worldly things to be exposed to dangers. I acknowledge you have great reason for what you say, for God has been very merciful to us. But when I consider how Judas was among the apostles, living continually with God himself, and listening to his words, I see there is no security whatever. To the first question I answer, that if this soul were always united to the will of God, it is clear she could never perish. But the devil comes with deep artifices, and under the appearance of good, unhinges her by making her notice some small things relating to herself, and turning her attention to certain other matters which he makes her believe are not bad. And thus, by little and little, he begins to darken the understanding, and cool the will, and breathe self-love in her, till by one thing or another he withdraws her from God's will, and unites her to his own. From this truth an answer may be given to the second question. For no enclosure is so strict into which the devil cannot enter. No desert is so remote whether he cannot travel. Another thing I will mention, and perhaps our Lord permits it, in order to see how this soul will conduct herself, which he intends making use of to enlighten others. The diligence which seems to me to be the most secure, after having continually begged our Lord in prayer to help us with his hand, and having frequently considered that if he should leave us, we shall soon fall into an abyss, which is the truth, and never putting any trust in ourselves which would be madness. The diligence, I repeat, which seems to be the most secure, is being very cautious and careful to observe how we advance in virtues, whether we grow better or worse, especially in loving one another, and desiring to be esteemed the lowest even in ordinary things. For, if we consider well, and beg light from our Lord, we shall immediately discover our gain or our loss. You must not imagine that a soul which God has thus brought so far will be so soon forsaken by him, and that the devil will not find work enough to do. No, his majesty so deeply feels lest she should be lost, that in many ways he gives her a thousand internal warnings, in order that the evil may not be hidden from her. To conclude this discourse, let us always endeavor to go forward, and to fear exceedingly if we do not, for without doubt the devil wishes to entrap us. Since it is not possible for a soul which has arrived so far should cease to go on increasing, because love is never idle, and therefore not to advance is a very bad sign, because a soul which has resolved to become the spouse of God himself, and has already conversed familiarly with his majesty, and has arrived at the point mentioned before, must not allow herself to sleep. In order that you may see what our Lord does for those souls whom he has already chosen for his spouses, let us commence speaking on the sixth mansion, and you will see how little all that is which we can suffer or do towards disposing ourselves for such great favors. It may be our Lord has appointed that I should be commanded to write this work. In order that casting our eyes on the reward, and considering how infinite his mercy is, since he is desirous of communicating himself to such worms as we are, we may forget the insignificant pleasures of this life, and fixing our eyes upon his immensity. We may run after him all on fire with love. May he enable me to explain something relating to such difficult subjects, for unless his majesty guide my pen, I know very well it will be impossible. If what I shall say should not tend to your benefit, I beseech our Lord not to allow me to say anything, since his majesty knows that, as far as I know myself, I have no other object than that his name may be praised. Let us strive to serve a Lord who rewards us so abundantly in this life, and hence we may form some idea of what he will give us in heaven, where the tedious labors and dangers which trouble us in this life shall not disturb us. Although, where they're not here some danger of losing and offending him, it would rather be a pleasure for these troubles to last till the end of the world, because we should be suffering for so good a God, who is our Lord and spouse. May his majesty grant that we may deserve to do him some service without so many imperfections, into which we are always falling, even in our good works. Amen. End of the fifth mansion, Chapter 4. The sixth mansion, Chapter 1 of the Interior Castle. 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 Interior Castle, or the Mansions, by St. Teresa of Avila, translated by the Reverend John Dalton. The sixth mansion, Chapter 1. The saint shows how when our Lord begins to bestow greater favors, there come greater troubles also. Some of these she mentions, etc. Let us now speak by the assistance of the Holy Spirit concerning the six mansions, wherein the soul remains wounded with the love of her spouse, and aspires more after solitude, removing as far as her state allows, whatever may disturb this solitude. This internal vision is so imprinted in the soul that all her desire is to enjoy it again. I have already mentioned that nothing is seen in this prayer which can properly be called seeing, neither is anything seen by the imagination. I call it a sight. On account of the comparison I made use of, the soul is now resolved to choose no other spouse, but the spouse pays no regard to her via mid desires of accomplishing the nuptials, because he wishes her to long after them more earnestly, and that such a favor, which exceeds all goods, should cost her something, and though all be little for so great a gain, yet I tell you, daughters, that the proof and security she has of possessing this gain is no more than necessary to enable her to bear this delay. Oh, how many troubles, both internal and external, must be endured before we can enter the six mansions? Truly, when sometimes I reflect upon it, I fear that were these troubles known beforehand, it would be exceedingly difficult for human infirmity to be able to bear them, and to resolve to endure them. However great might be the advantages which present themselves to her, unless the soul should have arrived at the seventh mansions, where she fears nothing, but rather embraces sufferings, and is resolved to endure them for the love of God. The reason is because she is then almost always so united with his majesty, that then she derives all her courage. I consider it good and proper to mention to you some of these troubles, which I know for certain are endured. Perhaps all souls may not be led this way, though I much doubt whether those souls, which sometimes so truly enjoy heavenly things, can live free from earthly trials of one kind or another. Although I do not intend to speak about them, yet I considered afterwards, that where I do speak on them, it might give consolation to some soul in the like state, to understand what takes place in those on whom God bestows such favors, for then it really seems as if everything were lost. I shall not proceed according to the order in which these troubles succeed, but only as they present themselves to my memory. I wish to begin with the least, and this comes from the clamor which certain persons make with whom she lives, and for some with whom she never spoke, though during the course of her life they may have heard something of her, for they exclaim that she pretends to be very holy, that she goes to extremes and does extravagant things in order to deceive the world and make others appear worse, who are better Christians without these extravagancies. But they do not remember that nothing is required, except endeavoring to observe diligently the duties which one state requires, those whom she considered her friends withdraw themselves from her, and are the very persons who afflict her the most, and who seem to grieve that this soul is, in their opinion, ruined and manifestly deluded. They are confident that these things come from the devil, that she will meet with the same end which such and such a one met with who was ruined, that through her fault virtue will decay, and that she deceives her confessors. They accordingly go to them and advise them to be on their guard, placing before them the examples of some who by this very means have been ruined. A thousand other such scoffs and expressions of this kind they make use of. I know one who is in great fear, lest she should find no one to hear her confession, because so many spoke against her. And as they said a great many things, I need not detain you by relating them here. But what is worse, these trials do not end soon. But last one's whole life, for one warns another to take care and have nothing to do with such kind of persons. You may say, surely there are some who will speak well of her. Oh my daughters, how few are there who believe her actions to be good, in comparison with the many who abominate them. Besides, this praise is a much greater trouble to her than the troubles I have just mentioned, because the soul clearly sees that if there be any good in her, it is God's gift, and not her own in any way. For she has a little before discovered how exceeding poor she is and how buried in sins. Hence, such praise gives her intolerable pain, at least in the beginning. Though it afterwards abates for these reasons. First, because experience clearly discovers to her that men speak well of a person, as hastily as they speak ill, and therefore she regards the one no more than the other. Secondly, because our Lord has given her greater light in discovering that nothing good belongs to her, but is the gift of His majesty, and thus forgetting that she has any share therein, and beholding the good as it were in a third person, she excites herself to praise God. Thirdly, because if she has observed that some souls have been benefited by beholding the favors God bestows on her, she thinks his majesty makes use of this means of having her esteemed virtuous, who is not so in reality, that souls may receive benefit thereby. Fourthly, having before her God's honor and glory more than her own, the temptation which comes in the beginning is removed. These, that such praise will ruin her, as has happened to some, and hence she pays little regard to her being esteemed, provided that by her means God may be praised once at least. No matter what may come afterwards. These and other reasons lessen the great trouble which these praises cause, though some is nearly always experienced, except when the trouble is very slight, and it is not much observed. But it is a greater trouble without comparison, to see oneself publicly esteemed good without reason, than to suffer the troubles I have mentioned, for when the soul has arrived so far as not to be much affected by these things, she is much less influenced by those troubles. Nay, she rejoices at them, and they are to her as most delightful music. This is indeed the very truth, and the soul is hereby rather encouraged than dejected, since experience has now taught her the great benefit which she gains by this way. She thinks her persecutors do not offend God, but that His Majesty permits these trials for her great gain, and as she sees this clearly, she concedes for them a very particular and tender affection, considering them as her best friends, and as affording her much more gain than those who speak well of her. Our Lord is also accustomed to send her grievous sicknesses. This is a much more severe trial, especially when the pains are acute, for if they be violent, they seem to me to be the most severe afflictions that can be endured on earth. I speak of exterior trials, however numerous they may be. If they are such as I am speaking of, they disorder both the interior and exterior in such a manner that the soul knows not what to do with herself in her anguish. She would more willingly endure any martyrdom, provided it were short, than suffer these pains. Still they do not last long in such intensity, for God at last does not give more than may be endured. His Majesty first bestows patience, but with regard to other great pains and infirmities of various sorts, I knew one who from the time that our Lord began to bestow the favor above mentioned, now forty years ago, cannot be said to have had one day without pain and other kinds of suffering. I mean, want of health besides other great troubles. It is true that she has been so very wicked. She esteemed them all but little, in comparison with hell, which she deserved. Others who have not offended God so much may be conducted by another way, but I would always choose the road of suffering, because I wish to imitate our Lord Jesus Christ, even if there were no other advantage, but there are always many advantages. But if I could speak of the interior afflictions and make them understood, oh how trifling would these others appear, but it is impossible to describe the way they are felt. Let us begin with the affliction which arises from meeting with a confessor who is so cautious and has such little experience that he thinks nothing is secure, who fears everything, suspects everything, as if he saw something extraordinary. This is especially the case if he should discover any imperfection in the soul which has these favors, for he thinks they ought to be angels on whom God bestows these favors, which is impossible while they live in the body. Then he immediately ascribes everything either to the devil or to melancholy. The world is indeed so full of this last that I do not wonder the devil does so much harm by this way. And confessors have great reason to fear and be very cautious, but the poor soul which is possessed with the same fear and goes to her confessor as to her judge, who notwithstanding condemns her, cannot help feeling great trouble and uneasiness. Only he who has experienced it can tell what a grievous affliction it is. Another trouble which such souls have to endure, especially if they have been wicked, is the thought that God allows them thus to be deceived on a account of their sins, and though when His Majesty bestows upon them those favors, they feel secure and cannot but believe it is no other spirit but that of God. Yet these favors soon pass away, but the remembrance of their sins still continues and beholding defects in themselves, for some are never wanting. This torment immediately returns again. When a confessor comforts a soul, she becomes a little calm, though she falls again into trouble, but when he increases her fear, her trouble becomes almost insupportable, especially when some aridities follow. Then it seems she never remembered God, nor will she remember Him, and when she hears His Majesty spoken of, he seems to be one whom she had heard spoken of a long time ago. But all this is nothing, for in addition she may further imagine that she is not able to inform her confessors and that she deceives them, and though she may observe things carefully, and be certain there is not even a first motion undiscovered, and though she may be often told not to trouble herself, still all is of no avail, because the understanding is so obscured that it is not capable of discovering the truth, but only of believing what the imagination represents to her, and this is then the mistress, and giving way to the impertenences which the devil is pleased to represent to her, and to him our Lord often gives leave to try her, and to make her imagine that she is abandoned by God, for there are many things by which she is attacked. There is also an inward anguish, so painful and intolerable, that I know not to what it can be compared, except to the torments of hell, because in this tempest no comfort finds admittance. If she seek for it from her confessor, the devils seem to have combined with him, in order to make him torment her the more. A confessor was once speaking with a person who had been in this torment, and finding it was a dangerous conflict, because so many things were united together. She told her to inform him when she was in the same conflict again, but she was always so much worse, and he afterwards understood that she could not help it, nor had she any power over herself. If she wished to read a book in her own language, she could no more understand it than if she were unable to read a letter, for her understanding was then incapable. In a word, there is no other remedy in this tempest but to hope in God's mercy, which by one word of His, or by some circumstance which seems casual, dispels everything so suddenly, that such a soul appears as if she had never been overcast, for she is now filled with light, and with much greater consolation. Like one who has escaped from a dangerous contest with victory, she continues to praise and give thanks to our Lord, for it was He who fought and conquered for her. She knows very clearly that she is able to do nothing, and it seems that all the arms with which she might defend herself are in the hands of her enemy. She likewise sees plainly her own misery, and how little we can do if our Lord should forsake us. She seems to have no need of consideration in order to understand this truth, because the experience she already has therein, having seen herself wholly unfit, now makes her know her own nothingness, because though she be in a state of grace, since not withstanding the storm she does not, nor would not, for any earthly thing offend God. Yet it is so hidden that she thinks she neither has, nor ever had, the least spark of the love of God, because if she should have done any good, or his majesty have bestowed any favor upon her, all seems to her to have been a dream or imagination. Oh Jesus, what a sight it is to behold a soul forsaken in this manner, and how little, as I have said, does any earthly consolation avail her. Do not think, then, sisters, if sometimes you find yourselves in this state, that the rich, and those who enjoy their liberty more, have a sure remedy against these times. No. No, it seems to me to be like placing all the delights of the world before persons condemned to die, which would afford them no pleasure, but rather increase their torment. And so it is the same here. Consolation must come from above, for here earthly comforts are of no avail. This great God desires we should know our own misery, and acknowledge him for our king. This is very necessary for what I shall mention afterwards. But what shall this poor soul do if she continued thus for many days? If she pray vocally, it is as if she did not pray. I mean as to her receiving any consolation, for her interior does not admit of any. She does not even understand what she prays for, nor does she understand herself, though she may pray vocally. As for mental prayer, this is no time for it, because the powers are not prepared for it. Even solitude does her great harm, and this proves another torment to her, for she cannot endure to be in the company with anyone, nor that anyone should speak to her. However much she may strive against this, she still has a certain nausea in her exterior, which can be observed. It is impossible for him who endures this to be able to express it, because they are spiritual trials and pangs, for which no name can be found. The best remedy that is not for removing, for I know none such, but for enabling one to bear it, is attending to works of charity, and exterior employments, and hoping in God's mercy, which is never wanting to those who trust in him. May he be blessed forever. Amen. End of the sixth mansion chapter one